Dirty Diana by January James

Epilogue

Jude squeezed my hand as we opened the door to Cherry’s dressing room. The atmosphere inside hit us like a wave. Music pumped out of a speaker in the far corner of the room and numerous scantily clad people—men and women—were running from wall to wall fetching makeup and items of clothing, reading out cards from well-wishers over the loud noise, and flying high with adrenaline. I noticed Ayda grinding to the music against Cherry’s friend Callum, and Amber, the bassist from Jilted, strutting around miming to the lyrics. I couldn’t see Cherry until the makeup artist stepped to one side. Our eyes locked and she squealed.

“You’re here! Oh my God, Di, I’m freaking out!”

I rushed over and gave her a giant hug, taking care not to ruin the makeup artist’s handiwork.

“You’re going to be amazing. The crowd out there is going nuts.”

“This is my biggest gig, ever,” she said, eyeing me seriously.

“And you’ve earned it,” I assured her.

It was the truth. Cherry had come a long way since the days of demanding three thousand thread count Egyptian cotton-clad sheets and being photographed falling out of cabs with her latest fling on her tail. The threat of Phoenix’s closure had rocked her; it had made her realize a future in this industry wasn’t guaranteed. She’d not only stopped her demands, she’d offered herself up to do whatever she could to help the cause. She’d worked overtime doing promotion, she’d taken on her own styling and social media management, growing her own following by showing her true self and being honest about the challenges she’d faced on the road to stardom. And her craft had grown all the stronger for it. The songs she’d been writing were deeply personal, sometimes tragic, often rallying. She’d been described by music critics the world over as a breath of air for the mainstream-numbed Gen Z.

Ayda wasn’t far behind Cherry in the charts with her jazzy edge. She appealed to a broader, arguably more sophisticated audience that didn’t gobble up every release and instead waited for the albums which were played at dinner parties and chilled-out gatherings in hundreds of thousands of homes. Both had become firm friends and I watched them dote on each other like a proud mother.

“Jude,” Cherry smiled, seeing my fiancé at my side. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he grinned. “I can’t wait to see you up there on that stage.”

“Did you know Billie Eilish is here?” Cherry said, her voice trembling.

“I saw,” I said.

“And one of the Jonas Brothers,” Jude added. “Although I never know which is which.”

I jabbed him in the ribs. “At least you know our acts—that’s the main thing.”

“Darlings!” I didn’t need to look round to know who’d just burst into the room—I’d be able to pick out that voice anywhere.

“Hello Carlos,” I turned to plant a large kiss on his cheek.

“This looks like the after party,” he sang. “Have I missed the show?”

“Come here, you,” Cherry reached out her arms to pull him in. “I need some Carlos courage, I’m so scared.”

I watched them both cuddle and slid an arm around Jude’s waist, feeling him kiss the top of my head.

“Have you seen Shez?” I asked Carlos’ back.

“She’s gone straight to her seat. Wants to make out with her new man I reckon,”

“She’s brought Dean?” My voice rose a level. “I can’t wait to meet him!”

And I couldn’t wait to catch up with my friend. She had barely come up for air since Dean Rogerson, an investment banker from Chicago, had asked her on a date. She’d been working like a trojan but every other spare minute had been taken up with her new love interest and I couldn’t be happier for her.

“We’ll head down,” I said to Cherry. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I could do with a double…” she said, her face fearful.

“Double vodka? Double scotch? Your wish is my command,” Carlos replied.

“No, a body double, you heathen,” she prodded him.

“I can stay with you,” I said, seriously. She was about to play again at Madison Square Gardens, only this time, on her own, with only one support act. If she hadn’t been crapping her pants, I’d have been worried.

“No, I’ll be fine. Eric’s here, Carlos and Ayda will come with me, and the rest of the team. You go inside.”

“Ok, if you’re sure.”

“I am. You better come back here afterwards though. I have a free day tomorrow so tonight I am going to party!”

“You bet.” I hugged her one last time. “I’m so proud of you, my angel,” I whispered in her ear.

When I pulled away she looked back at me with glistening eyes. “And I’m proud of you, Diana. I have you to thank for all of this.”

I tried to shake my head but she grabbed it. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Thank you for giving me someone to believe in,” I smiled, weakly. “I better go before I reduce us both to tears,” I added, squeezing her hand. “I love you. Break a leg!”

I let Jude pull me back through the crowded dressing room and out into the cool air of the corridor.

“God, I’m so nervous for her,” I said, as we made our way through the rabbit warren of corridors.

“I know you are. It’s rolling off you in waves. You need to chill.”

“I’ll be fine once she starts. It’s just all the preparation—so many people working to make so many things happen. So many opportunities for something to go wrong.”

“You need to calm down before we take our seats,” Jude muttered. “I can’t have you freaking out everyone else with your own anxiety.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will,” he said, suddenly pulling me back to stand in front of him.

“What are you doing?”

“Tradition.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Then I turned to look where his gaze had travelled and saw the door to the room where he’d fucked me over a speaker the last time we were at this venue.

“We can’t come backstage at Madison Square Gardens without a re-run of the real show.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t miss the start…”

“We have twenty minutes…”

“You’ll have to be quick,” I warned, knowing it would take me less than five minutes to reach my own climax, knowing what he did to me.

He grabbed my hand, practically dragging me to the door, then he pulled me into the dark storage space.

“That won’t be a problem,” he whispered, his breath sending tendrils of desire across my skin. “With the memory of everything we did in here last time, and knowing exactly how to make you come, and seeing you dressed like a fucking goddess, I have no doubt we can do this quickly. The question for me is this: Do I want to fuck you quickly? Or do I want to draw it out for as long as I can, until you are on your knees begging me to end the agony. Hmm?”

He trailed a finger down my cheek and held my waist tightly as my knees turned to jelly. In the dark I could only just see his eyes but they were dancing, reminding me of when I could only see them through the slits in his drape; reminding me of the times he couldn’t put me down the night of our first encounter; reminding me of the darkness in them when I finally gave into him after the press had hung him out to dry. I’d never known desire like it. We couldn’t get enough of each other. I thought having a night out together somewhere public like this, would give us both a break from the relentless need for closeness, for a release from the pent-up desire that built up through the day. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go even one night without feeling this man around me, inside me, all over me.

I moaned as he dragged his lips from my lips across to my earlobe, taking it into his teeth and biting down softly.

A low, gentle growl left his throat and he hummed into my ear.

“Option B it is.”

The end.

Thank you for reading Dirty Diana!CLICK HERE to download The Announcement, the moment Diana discovers Jude’s her new CEO, from Jude’s perspective, for FREE!

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