<br><br><center>https://s9.postimg.org/hn4y2onsf/girl-1445281_960_720.jpg</center>

<br><br>I'm a great believer in second chances, and a sucker for happy endings, but so far neither is happening for me.

Kenzie is a talented and beautiful singer who's keeping me at arm's length. I've invited her to an awards ceremony, but any hope of it going any further seems dim.

No doubt she's Googled me on the web and despite the fact I've turned my life around, what happens in Vegas, doesn't always stay in Vegas.

But I wish it did.

<br><br>So, hoping against hope, the following Wednesday night I’m waiting for her in the foyer at The Juno’s.

“You’re going to wear out that carpet pacing back and forth, “ Gerry laughs.

“What if she doesn’t show, Ger?”

“I’d be more worried if she does—you know these things sometimes get out of hand.”

I was thinking about that too—the party scene, the drinking, the loose conversations—was this the right venue to invite Kenzie—to a place where I have almost no control?

<br><br>“She’s here,” Gerry chirps.

She’s dressed in a black Terani styled evening gown. It accentuates her slim figure and spills over her hips, tapering down to a subtle flutter at her feet. And incredibly, she’s wearing her hair loose and flowing.

I take her hand as she approaches, and lean close and whisper, “You look stunning.”

Her smile lights the room and I'm blinded by her sun. Then, I remember Gerry standing behind me.

“Kenzie, I’d like you to meet Gerry Fishman, my agent.”

<br><br>Gerry is all smiles. “I’ve heard so much about you, Ms. Owens, but words alone can’t convey your beauty. You look very elegant tonight.”

And so it goes all evening—Kenzie surrounded by admiring men and basking in the attention.

The music and wine flow freely and I’m mentally congratulating myself on my decision, until Allie Starr spots me from across the room.

<br><br>Allie has been drinking with several producers and is obviously past the point of being tipsy—actually, her laughter tips me off to her presence, but unfortunately, I don’t have much warning before she crosses the room to confront me.

Over the span of two years, the two of us have had an off-again, on-again relationship, but it has definitely been off for the past six months.

Still, that doesn’t deter Allie. She’s boisterous and unruly when drunk, and tonight is no exception.

<br><br>“Well, hello, stranger—have you been avoiding me?”

She’s wavering from side to side, eyes glassy.

I see Gerry instinctively take Kenzie’s elbow, intending to lead her away—but Allie spots the gesture too.

“Oh don’t bother trying to be gallant, Gerry—she’s going to find out soon enough what Paul Chambers is all about.”

He hisses under his breath, “For God’s sake, Allie—don’t make a scene.”

“Why? You afraid I’m gonna spoil the party and upset Paul’s new fling?”

<br><br>She offers Kenzie a mock toast with her glass, and chuckles harshly, “You’re not going to last, Honey—he’ll dispose of you like he did me—once he gets what he wants.”

Before I can respond, Kenzie turns on her heel and storms from the room. Gerry stares helplessly after her.

With a gleam of victory in her eyes, Allie puts on a little girl voice, “Sorry to ruin your night, Paul—maybe you’ll just have to go home with me.”

Gerry motions to a waiter who discreetly escorts her out.

<br><br>“Sorry, Paul—tried to guide her out of harm’s way, but Allie was hell-bent on getting her revenge.”

“It’s not your fault, Ger,” I sigh, “you did the best you could. I guess my past just keeps coming back to haunt me.”

He looks crestfallen, but there’s nothing to be done. There’s nothing anyone can do.

<br><br>I leave the room and drive back to my apartment, resigned to accepting defeat. 

I uncork a bottle of Shiraz, pour a glass and take it out to the terrace—the familiar stars are all there—and so too is the loneliness and emptiness.

I realize again with painful clarity who I am and how I got here and it’s the classic case of getting high to bury feelings and fill up a hollowness.

<br><br>I click on the CD player, but Kenzie’s song starts playing. I can’t handle that now.

I change the track, but it’s her again. Finally, I select a random mix and lean against the railing, staring out at the jumble of lights. The song that’s playing sums up my life.

*Never knew what I’ve been looking for,
Or why they left me, always needed more,
Never asked where love was coming from,
I’ve been hoping, Darling, you’re the one…*

The lyrics tear at me—exasperated, I fling the wine glass at the wall and slump down in defeat onto the patio stones.

<br><br>A deep moan rises up from within me. "I can’t do this anymore—I’m done."

“Done with being alone, or done with me?”

I turn to see Kenzie standing in the shadows.

“How did you…”

“Gerry gave me the key. He told me what you’ve been going through. I’m sorry, Paul—I really had no idea.”

<br><br>There'a an acid taste in my mouth and an aching in my chest.

“Oh great—just what I need—a pity party, as if I don’t have enough of this already.”

“I didn’t come here out of pity, Paul.”

“No—then why did you come.”

“I came to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

She grabs my shoulders and stares into my eyes. “You’re the one.”



<br><br><center>© 2017, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center>

<br><center>https://goo.gl/images/M87nwg</center>

<br><center>song lyrics: David Clayton Thomas, William Daniel Smith
 Blood, Sweat & Tears </center>