Chapter 65: Threats and Promises

It was tomorrow, and Richie didn’t feel any better. He had hardly slept, and by the time the first rays of sunshine were poking through the window, he was done being in bed. He had tried to relax, had tried to put things into perspective, but couldn’t get past the point that Julianna had lied to him. Richie felt so let down, so betrayed.

He knew, though, that he had to deal with this or else risk going back to that place he swore he never would revisit. He pulled himself together as best he could, and went up to the house. When he walked into the kitchen, he was not surprised to see it empty. Jon was probably up in the studio or still in bed, and Dave and Teek were most likely home with their women. The song for the finale done, there wasn’t anything to do except wait for opening night.

Richie set about making coffee and after pouring himself a mug, sat at the table and stared at it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jon asked from the doorway.

“Waiting for you,” was his wingman’s tired response.

Richie told Jon everything and waited. Jon just looked at him. “You fucked up, man,” he said to his friend.

“What do you mean?” Richie answered.

“Julianna hasn’t done anything to make you think she’d get back together with that tool. In fact,” Jon said, taking a seat across the table from Richie, “if anything, she can’t stand him. I don’t believe for a minute that she invited him back.”

“Whose side are you on?” Richie asked, getting angry.

“Look,” Jon said. “Didn’t you tell me he just showed up at her apartment one day and she threw him out?” Richie nodded. He’d conveniently forgotten about that. “Why would she do that if she wanted him around?”

“Maybe she was lying about that too,” Richie said.

Jon was getting impatient. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” He looked at his friend’s face, and shook his head. “Man, you have to decide if you trust her or not. It’s an all or nothing thing.” He stood and slapped his brother’s shoulder. “You have to make that decision on your own.”

* * * * *

Julianna was in such a mood, that the final rehearsals, rehearsals that should have run smoothly, were choppy. Nothing made her happy. At one point, she made Lila so upset she left the stage. Stan, who’d been watching from the balcony called down to her, “What the hell is going on down there?”

“Nothing,” Julianna said, and promptly burst into tears and fled the stage, slamming into her office. She wouldn’t open the door for anyone, and Stan finally resorted to calling Julianna’s mother. Stan had a car bring Teresa to the theater, and she lightly knocked on the door.

“Cara,” she called softly, “Please talk to me.”

Julianna opened the door and fell into her mother’s arms. The two women disappeared behind the door and Julianna told her everything. Resting her head in her mother’s lap as she did when she was a girl, she told her mother everything from the time Mark came to her apartment to Richie leaving. “Have you called him, Cara, tried to explain?” Teresa was stroking her daughter’s hair.

“No, Mama,” she said. “I told him if he didn’t trust me, he should leave,” her sobs got greater. “And he left.” She was crying in earnest now.

“Then he’s a fool,” Teresa said.

* * * * *

Mark’s secretary rushed into his office without knocking. “Mark, there’s someone here to see you,” she said excitedly.

“Jesus, Martha, don’t you know any better than to rush in here?” Mark hurriedly closed what he was working on, not wanting her to see the change he had made to Sam and Lila’s contracts. He was going over to the theater today to get their signatures, and Julianna wasn’t going to stop him.

“But Mark, it’s…” She was cut off by the person in question coming through the door.

“Valentino,” he said, eyes cold and hard.

Mark nodded at him. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Martha, you can leave us, and shut the door.” He waited for Martha to comply before continuing. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“It’s not a pleasure, believe me.” Jon started advancing on Mark, who had the good sense to retreat behind his desk. “I want you to stay away from BIO,” he said.

Mark just laughed and sat in his chair. “What’s the matter? Little Julianna go running to her boyfriend for help?” Mark’s laugh was bitter and evil.

“No,” Jon said, “she hasn’t said anything to Richie or me.” It was true enough, Jon supposed. Not that Mark needed to know the whole truth.

“What’s it to you, Jon?” Mark sneered.

“You’re fucking with my family, and I don’t tolerate that,” Jon said, steel creeping into his voice. Jesus, he thought, this guy really is an asshole.

Mark shook his head. “Look, I’m a big boy, and I don’t have to take orders from you. If that’s all you came to say, you can just take your ass on out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

Jon knew that threats wouldn’t work on this guy, so he switched tactics. Taking a stroll around Mark’s office, he saw photographs of Mark with various people – famous people. People Jon considered his friends. Taking out his phone, he dialed a number. Mark looked on, amused. “Hello? Yeah, it’s Jon.” He waited a few moments for the person to finish his response. “Yeah, listen, I’m calling to ask a favor. Do you know a Mark Valentino?” Mark’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his name. “Yeah, well, he’s fucking with Richie’s girl.” Jon laughed. “I know. So anyway,” he stopped as his friend spoke some more. “That’s exactly it. Thanks, Chris. See you soon.” He hung up and looked at Mark. “That’s one,” he said, and dialed again.

“Look,” Mark began. “I have shit to do, and it doesn’t include watching you make inane phone calls.” He buzzed for his secretary. “Martha,” he said, when she opened the door. “Mr. Bongiovi was just leaving.”

“Oh, OK. There’s someone else waiting for you,” she said.

“Tell whoever it is to wait,” Mark answered, dismissing them both.

“This isn’t over,” Jon said to him.

“Yeah, rock star, it is. Bye-bye now.” Mark went back to rewording some of the clauses in the contracts he had drawn up for Sam and Lila. By the time he was done with them, there was no way they could get out of the contracts without giving up everything they had. He’d own them.

When Jon went out to Mark’s outer office, he was surprised to find Teresa there. “What are you doing here, signora?” he asked her. Teresa looked up from the magazine she was reading.

“Jon!” she said, pleased. She stood and Jon kissed her cheek. “I am here to see that snake,” she said, distaste evident on her face, “and to tell him to keep away from my baby. What are you doing here?”

Jon laughed. “I was doing the same thing, though Richie isn’t my baby. He’s a piece of work,” Jon said, waving at the door.

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I do not know,” she said.

Martha looked up at them. “Ma’am, Mark will see you now,” she said.

“I’ll wait for you,” Jon said, and settled into the waiting room,

Teresa breezed into Mark’s office.

“Teresa? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Delivering a message. Stay away from my daughter or I will have you killed.”

Mark sputtered and stood, outrage turning his complexion red. “How dare you come in here and threaten me. You can’t do that!”

“It is not a threat, it is a vow,” Teresa said quietly. “Do not think I cannot or will not have this done,” she said. She opened her bag and took out a single black rose. “This is your only warning,” she said, and laid the rose on Mark’s desk. Without looking back, she headed for the door.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mark mocked, and didn’t see the narrow-eyed look Teresa shot him before closing the door.

Jon rose when she came out. “Well?” Jon asked.

“One way or another,” she said cryptically, this is done.”

* * * * *

Buried on page 23 of the New York Times, several days later

An unidentified man was the victim of a hit-and-run accident last night, outside the Bring It On theater. The man was Caucasian, 34-40 years of age, 6’2” dark hair and eyes. He was wearing a business suit and trench coat, of good quality. No identification was found on the body. Anyone with any information is urged to call their local police station.


Neither Julianna nor Richie saw this article, but Teresa did. She went outside, taking her pre-paid cell phone with her. “I see it is done. Your debt is paid.” She dropped the phone on the ground, crushed it with a rock, and threw away the pieces.

Buried on page 32 of the New York Times, two days later

The man struck outside the Bring It On Theater earlier this week, has been identified as Mark Valentino. Valentino, producer of television’s, ‘New York Minute’, had apparently just left the set of the upcoming Broadway show, ‘Tommy & Gina’, when he was struck and killed. Officials still have no leads and are asking the public for help. Anyone with any information is urged to call their local police station.


This one, Julianna saw, but said nothing.