Me especially, but there are plenty of things Jett does that I still can’t figure out. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy them though. Especially when we’re alone. No ropes required.
Although I do file that one away for later as well.
Handcuffs? Nah.
But a little gentle rope play?
No harm in that, even if it means I’m helpless for an hour or two until Jett unties me.
Knowing this is the last time I have to share him with over a thousand other people is a little comforting as much as it’s nerve-wracking.
Being his own manager and agent, as well as Jett having handpicked only his most trusted and respected crew from other shows takes some of the edge off. But not enough for my liking.
I’ll be glad when this show is over, so I can have him all to myself again, and me being all his like it should be.
I’ve still got an oversized companion for the show, but not a bad-smelling, cigar-smoking one.
Stanford Carlisle sits erect next to me, his eyes are wide with something like a smile on his face the whole time.
They weren’t kidding when they said he was Jett’s biggest fan, but I guess he can make everyone feel that special when they’re watching him live or even on a screen from anywhere in the world.
The whole broadcast is being streamed live as well as part of a commemorative box set.
Jett having all the royalties from that, I made sure of it.
Sebastian Hawke leaves the stage to thunderous applause, but only after hogging the mike for a little too long.
To his credit, he does say more about Jett’s achievements than his own, and I know the planned montage of Jett’s career at the end will dwarf anything he has to say right now.
It should, I put it together myself.
But long before we even get to the finale. I check my watch and wonder what’s changed in the schedule when a familiar-looking tank appears.
It’s the one stunt I dread the most Jett doing again, and although I’ve begged him not to do it, he insisted on going through with it.
A part of me wants to sit this one out, go wait in the lobby for fifteen.
But a bigger part of me can’t miss seeing it. Making sure he’s okay and if I’m honest enough, it really is my favorite Jett Masters escape.
It has my heart in my throat every time.
Gladly it goes off without a hitch and with just enough suspense and time on the clock to have the entire audience, not just me on the edge of my seat.
There’s a short break for his change and a once over by his medical team, then it’s on with the rest of the show.
Odd though… There’s still like a ten minute gap.
I hope no one’s noticed and wants a refund later.
Once Jett takes center stage again, I’m on my feet along with everyone else, figuring he probably has ten minutes of standing ovations to come anyway.
But once he finally manages to hush the crowd and we resume our seats, the lights go down a little and I feel the same way I did on that first night.
His eyes find mine again somehow in the front row, his voice lowering as he has a heart-to-heart with the audience.
After twenty-something years, I guess it’s not unexpected. And there’s not a dry eye in the house once he’s said all his thank you’s.
“But I can’t leave a lifetime of shows without a special finish, ladies, and gentlemen.”
I feel my breath catch, certain that he must’ve set up some surprise illusion or stunt that he’s even managed to keep from me.
“I’m gonna need a little help up here with this last one too.”
My stomach drops and my heart pounds once I watch him move to the stairs by the edge of the stage, stepping down into the audience. Ignoring all the shouts and calls of fans begging him to choose them.
Don’t pick me. Don’t pick me.
For once in my life, and only because of some intense and sudden nerves, I will him to pick someone else, like Stanford who’s right next to me.
But before he even gets close enough, I know, I can see his eyes dancing with mischief as he gets closer.
Finally he stops in front of me and holds out his hand as the audience heaves with some disappointment.
Everyone else in the room wants to be chosen by Jett.
But eventually, there’s a round of applause once he helps me up out of my seat and onto the stage with him.
My first instinct is to hold myself close, to kiss him like I always do.
But being part of his show now, I’m left wondering just how I should act and on another level wonder just what the hell he’s actually doing.
“What’s your name, honey?” he asks, making me flush a deep red.