The All or Nothing Game

Eva slid to the floor and buried her head in Granny's lap and Granny gently caressed her head. They were both silent for a while.

"I'll go then!" Eva looked up, almost defiantly, and they hugged again for a long time.

"You'll have to teach me how to keep track of you. That Internet thing you know..." Granny said after a while, and Eva cried and laughed at the same time.

**********

That is how Eva came to stand in front of the meticulously cured and manicured flawless beauty of the woman called Maryka Vollerhofen. They were presently in a hotel room in one of the larger hotels in Fort Lauderdale, and Eva kept looking over the head of the other woman at the milling life among all the slick yachts in the harbor outside the window. They had just signed the contracts and were now engaged in a conversation which was meant to be leisurely and relaxed.

"You must call me Maryka," the woman insisted. "No one uses the surnames here you know." She smiled — a smile that never reached her eyes.

Eva understood that this was not just pleasantries. They indicated what tone Maryka expected the present setup to have. An indication of how she was to meet Julian Woolfe himself too of course — although that was never said in so many words.

Eva was not unfamiliar with Maryka's career, if one could call it that. Being of Dutch decent she had met Julian already in England when his career was on the rise. She had since then been working close to him for almost all the time he had hit it big. There were rumors telling of a brief affair many years ago, and if that were true, it would have said something about the woman who stayed on after it was ended to manage the career of her ex-lover. Rumors also had it that she was worse than any bodyguard when it came to shielding her protégé from "unwanted" attention. The fact remained however that Julian accepted to have her around and depended deeply on her to take care of all the practical details in his life. Thus, Eva concluded in her mind, it was indeed vital to be on good foot with this lady.

"Let's go and see then if we can find Julian now so that you can be introduced and discuss how he wants you to work with the upcoming shows." Maryka rose, ending the conversation.

They went along the corridor on a carpet that was so thick and luxurious that their feet made no sound. It was an almost eerie feeling, and for a little while Eva felt as if wrapped in an unreal dream. She was soon to be recalled to the present, however. Outside a door farther down, there were two men positioned, one sitting down and the other standing up. Eva realized that they must be Julian's bodyguards. At that moment, it sort of hit home for the first time that she had moved into another world — one widely differing from what had been hers up to this day. Maryka said something to one of the guards in a low voice, and he opened the door for them and let them into a small hall with yet another door which hopefully led to Julian's present apartment. Eva didn't know that such hotel suites even existed. Maryka knocked on the inner door, and Eva heard a voice answer at the other side. Then she was unceremoniously ushered into the presence of the man himself.

Julian Woolfe certainly didn't look like a superstar at the very first glance. He lounged, rather carelessly dressed, in front of the TV and had evidently been watching one of the numerous talk shows which ran without breaks on the TV channels in the hotel. He put down his tea cup and rose when they entered. He looked first briefly at Maryka. Then concentrated his gaze on Eva. And he smiled. That wolfish grin Eva knew from so many pictures. She took in all the impressions as if in a breath. That he wasn't as young as his pictures wanted to convey, that he had small lines in his face, which made it more interesting than those buffed and retouched plastic versions of him which were spread everywhere around town for the moment; that he had extraordinarily beautiful features with high cheekbones, a prominent sharp nose, a full and sensitive mouth and above all those mesmerizing almost steely eyes, which seemed to penetrate her now.

"Julian, dear," Maryka murmured behind her. "This is Eva Sanderson who has so graciously accepted helping us now that Janet Birkman can no longer be available."

Julian raised his eyebrows and extended his hand for a greeting. When she took it, she felt that it was warm and strong.

"Where do you come from?" was his first and rather unconventional question. Eva was taken aback and felt confused all at once.

"South Dakota," she answered and could have bitten her tongue when realizing that New York would have sounded so much better under the circumstances.

His grin widened and he made a small tour around her. Eva's discomfort and uncertainty rose with each step he took. What kind of survey was this? Would she have to accept to be subject to it? She heard him click his tongue twice in small, almost inaudible, appreciative noises.

"Wow," he laughed," I had no idea of that so much style and elegance could come out of that place."

Eva couldn't prevent an awful blush from starting to travel her throat and cheeks, and anger came too.

"You evidently haven't been there, I can tell ... Sir," she added in a measured tone before she even had time to think of what she answered. At the same time she experienced seeing what he saw. A slender, almost delicate woman with a fair skin with just a hint of freckles, long auburn hair, loosely tied in a careless knot at the nape of her neck, soft full lips, prominent eyebrows, giving character to her face and liquid violet-blue eyes. His appreciation was evident, and he was also amused by her talking back.

"No offence, no offence!" he touched her shoulder lightly. "And by the way, if you "Sir" me one more time, you'll be out of here before you even have time to say "I'm sorry." I'm Julian and you are?"

"Eva!" she said, taking his hand which he offered again as if signing a peace contract. Then Eva felt that the awful moment had passed and that she was approved of, and now she could laugh too.

Maryka made a small cough behind them and thus brought them back to the present.

"Julian," she said, "what time do you want Eva to turn up before the show? Since this is the first time, you may want her to come a bit earlier perhaps?"

"Yes, I'd say," he replied and the laughter left his face to give room to the professional. He turned again to Eva. "I will be on stage around ten in the evening so it'll be fine if you could turn up around half past eight. Better let someone show you the premises. You've been backstage on a set like this before?" The last bit was a question. Eva shook her head and Maryka intervened.

"Don't worry Julian; I will take care of this. Eight thirty this evening, she'll be in your dressing room."

When the two women left the room after having said their good-byes, Eva reflected on Maryka again. She wondered to herself how many times Maryka had said those words: "Don't worry Julian." There must have been countless moments.

**********

Maryka engaged one of the young roadies, Martin, to take Eva around the stage — both back and front. Eva was really in awe of the construction, raising high above her head like a complex skeleton of steel, hundreds of workers crawling around it to get the lines, wires, electricity, light and sound in order and place for tonight's concert. The sound testing had already begun, and Eva could see that the musicians in the band were milling about the stage, testing their equipment.

"Let's take the chance to meet the band too," Martin ventured. "They can do with a break."

Together they climbed the stage. Eva had read countless articles about the band members and heard them play too, partly on audio recordings and partly from live sessions on TV. It would, of course, be a totally different thing to hear them live. It was a thoroughly international band Julian had put together when he started touring again some years ago. Yet, however disparate they seemed as personalities, when they entered the stage they became a tight knit unit.

Steven Macintosh from Philadelphia was one of the two guitarists — the hot and trashy according to Julian. Steven had become the spokesman for the group, more or less self-appointed. The others didn't seem to mind but were rather happy to let anyone with Steven's vitality deal with all the practical details. Then there was the second guitarist, Klaus Schiller from Berlin, the poetic one as Julian had once described him. When let loose — and Julian often did so — Klaus would climb heights with his instrument, lost to the world. The base was played by a phenomenon in the music world, the charcoal black Daren Ndolo, originally from Nigeria but operating since years in San Francisco. Daren was a natural on rhythms. He could pick up the most intricate one imagined and get it into his fingers and body within a take, never to forget it again. It was as if it were built into him and a source of endless fascination to Julian. Daren was the solid rock the band was leaning on; with him there, getting the perfect beat from the beginning, everyone felt safe on stage. Cooperating closely with Daren to form the exquisite rhythm and drum section which was the trade mark of Julian's present band, was Bo Lassiter from Jamaica. Lastly, to enhance and put that shimmering touch to the music was Rupert Hain on synth. Rupert was from Manchester in England and had worked closely with Julian ever since the start. He knew exactly what Julian wanted and not many words were wasted on explanations or intentions between the two of them.

Steven approached them now and met them halfway. He looked with apprehension and curiosity at Eva and broke into a little improvised welcome-speech when Martin had introduced her. Steven brought her along to the band.

"Eva, now?" Klaus said with his slight German accent as he focused his soft, almost sad eyes on her. "Well, as long as I don't see an Adam in the tow, I'm confident that this will be totally swell."

Eva flashed a smile towards him and turned to Daren, marveling over the almost statuesque base player in front of her. He would make a wonderful model for her to paint on! Daren seemed to feel her appreciation because he flexed his well-trained body a bit extra for her to the great amusement of the others. The elegant Rupert Hain bowed ceremoniously over her hand and pretended to blow a kiss on it, and Bo Lassiter drummed up a small fanfare on his instrument.

"Well, boys," Eva called out to them when proceeding to follow Martin who was already on his way backstage, "I'll guess I'll be seeing a lot of you — and I don't mind that at all!"

She lifted a hand in the air and made the V-sign and was greeted with appreciative whistles and a cacophony of instrumental noise.

It was a good idea, Eva realized, when entering the backstage area that she got some knowledge of the place in advance. Without any guide, she would soon be lost in there. Now Martin pointed out all the different stairs and doors and explained to what area they belonged and led to. Eva asked him to concentrate on how to quickly find Julian's dressing room because that was to be the only essential thing for her to know in the beginning. She would have an hour and a half with Julian during this first session before the show. She would also have to be at hand to help him better his makeup and hair if needed when he went off stage for a break. The rest of the maze which made up the backstage she would have to learn about later. Martin agreed with her and showed her in detail how to get to Julian's dressing room in the best and quickest manner, if she came from the outside. There were security checks which she would have to be prepared for, several of them, and she must always be sure to wear her pass card clearly visible. He clicked his tongue in admiration when she showed him her new one. It said "Category One" on it which meant that she belonged to the few people on the premises who had full access to Julian's person.

As they talked and walked about the stage, the sun started to set and soon the place would be filled with an audience full of anticipation. A loudspeaker boomed over the arena, announcing that it was time to leave the front stage at this instance, and Eva thanked Martin for the guided tour as everyone started to withdraw backstage or leave the place to come back later.

"If you want to," Martin said and looked shyly at her from the corner of his eyes. "I can show you a marvelous spot to watch the gig from. I mean, you don't have to sit around in the dressing room all the night, do you?"

Eva raised her eyebrows and smiled in pleasant surprise.

"Oh! How nice of you. Can it be done? And we won't be in anyone's way? And can I quickly get back to Julian's place, when I need to?

Martin laughed at all her eager questions.

"No prob at all. When you're done with all that makeup thing and he is on his way out here, I'll be waiting for you behind that big loud speaker set — he pointed over to the left — and from there I'll show you were to go. OK?"

"OK! Yes! Thank you!" and they parted company because Eva wanted to get a bite to eat before the evening started. She hadn't eaten during the whole day and all of a sudden she realized that she felt famished.

**********

It was nearly eight thirty in the evening when Eva returned to the arena. The atmosphere was now totally different from earlier during the day. Now it was charged with electricity, a seething pot of anticipation and common yearning. The band which was to introduce Julian was already at work out there, and Eva felt the whole stage vibrate with the sound. She hastened towards Julian's dressing room and had to pass three security checks before she found herself in the area where it was situated. She knocked just briefly and entered without waiting for an answer. After all, they had made an appointment for this evening, and he was waiting for her. They greeted each other, and Eva put her small suitcase down on the floor. She felt nervous — she had to admit that — but she also knew that as soon as she had started to work, she would snap out of that feeling. He looked her over quietly and expectantly.

"First of all," she said, "I want to know if there is something in particular which you wish me to concentrate on."

"Nope," he smiled teasingly, "I'll leave it all to you tonight. Let's see what the result will be like when you have finished."

So, he was going to challenge her? Well, he could try!

"All right," she smiled, "fair enough. What will you be wearing tonight?"

He pointed at the costume displayed on a hanger in the room. It was a bright yellow jacket and equally bright yellow-striped trousers.

"I see," she said, "yellow is not an easy color, but we'll manage that too."

Then she proceeded to put herself in front of him, between him and the mirror, so that she could look directly at him. Now all at once her gaze was a different one. Now she looked at him in a totally professional way. It was as if he sensed this because he relaxed in the chair and extended his long legs on either side of her. She took care to look at all the details this time. The flaws and the features which needed enhancing. When she was done, she moved around him and swept a big towel around his chest and shoulders. Then she put her fingers into his hair — the first time ever that she touched him in anything but a formal way. She let her supple fingers slip along his scalp, massaging his head slowly and steadily. He wasn't prepared for this, but reacted as everyone had done before him when treated to her initial massage.

"Mmmmmm..."he murmured involuntarily and let his head fall back against the rest.

"Good," she encouraged. "That is what it is for, to relax. That is the best thing before any session. It brings the blood in circulation and unwinds all the tensions. Even if we only will have an hour to do the makeup in the future, I will always start off with a quick massage."

Eva could see a look which almost looked like regret in his face when she stopped, but he made no comments about it. Instead she quickly started trying out a base color for covering his face, both with his own skin in mind and with an eye on what he would wear. She worked with speed but not in haste. She kept looking at his face, but she didn't see Julian. She saw a face to build up and paint. All the while he had his eyes fastened on her with enormous concentration. He didn't try to meet her eyes. She accentuated his prominent cheekbones and sensitive nostrils and did a daring eye makeup for him. She outlined his lips before painting them and she could see them quiver slightly when she drew the line around them with her soft pencil. She had a very special mascara which she wanted to try on him. She was quite aware of that he often displayed his androgyny, and she wanted to stress this feature a bit extra. The innuendo between his looks and his actions would not be lost on his fans; she was sure of that. She drew back and surveyed the result. Not bad. He looked like the alluring wolf she wanted to convey to the audience. Lastly, she turned to his hair. It wasn't common that makeup artists did hairs too, but that was one of the special features in her training and maybe why she landed this job in the first place. She sculptured his head and yet made it look as if he had casually drawn his fingers through the hair. It must look natural. Before finishing off, she asked him to cover his face with his hands while she applied the hairspray. Then she was done with him. She moved behind him and asked him to take a look. And now their eyes met in the mirror. He nodded slowly.

"Mmm, I like it! Good. What is it you have done to the hair? It looks different?"

"It is a special spray to be used in spotlight. It brings out the color of the hair to shine with a light of its own. Up there on stage you will look almost translucent, generating your own light. It mustn't be too much, just a touch of it, you know."

"I have one reservation," she added. "I haven't been able to see what these colors in your face will look like in the spotlights you are going to be subjected to. I will not know until I see you out there," she smiled.

"You will watch the show?"

"Yes!" There was no idea lying about that fact. "I will watch it from the wings."

"Where will you be standing?"

"Oh, I don't really know exactly where, I will have someone to show me to get there, but I promise you that I won't be in anyone's way and I'll be here when you need me again."

"Oh, that's all right. I think it's a good idea that you should watch the show. You will know the basics then, so to speak, and I'd recommend that for the future. Very good idea."

"By the way," he added lightly after the briefest of hesitations. "Who will show you where to stand?"

"His name is Martin and I believe he is one of the roadies," she answered, still intent on not making the truth fancier than it was.

"I see," he added after a brief pause and evidently the matter was closed for him then.

He rose from the chair and flung the towel but also the bathrobe he had been wearing aside, only to reveal that he didn't wear any shirt underneath but displayed his bare chest. He was statuesque to look at, all smooth and shiny, muscles rippling beneath his flawless skin in a measured way. Eva took a step back and couldn't help that her eyes widened at the sight of him. She didn't want to show him that she had reacted, but now it was too late. She also observed that he had noted it from the corner of his eyes, but she collected herself quickly though.

"Well, I'm done with you! I guess you want to let the dresser in. I'll see you before the Encores then."

He moved and faced her directly, focusing his deadly charm on her; the one he otherwise usually sent out over an audience of 40,000 spectators.