Prologue

Frankie had moved into the artist's loft in the Soho neighbourhood of New York only a few months before but already the space was becoming hers. It was not large but comfortably appointed and convenient to work at the Gallery. Her and her mother had searched for weeks for just the right pieces to furnish her new home, and it was almost complete.

Two soft off-white leather lounges sat facing each other in the broad expanse of the lower floor, separated by a chunky recycled timber door that had been transformed into a coffee table, and on which sat several art magazines and the portfolio of the latest artist Frankie was displaying at the gallery.

The polished cement floor was adorned with large colourful rugs, in abstract designs of red, cream and slate grey. Across the room stood a rustic table flanked by six aged oak chairs, in complete contrast to the modern white hi gloss cabinetry and black stone bench tops of the adjacent kitchen. A large floor to ceiling glass window spaned an entire wall and opened by way of sliding doors onto a large balcony that looked out over the city skyline. Heavy timber treads protruded from the left wall of the loft and led upwards to the open bedroom and ensuite where Frankie stood before the full length mirror putting the finishing touches to her outfit. She smoothed the waist band of her fitted black linen pants and adjusted the silver halter that finished in a deep V between her pert breasts. She sat on the small stool in her walk in robe and fastened black six inch strappy sandals around her delicate ankles. Frankie was just putting on a final coat of lip gloss when the buzzer rang.

It was the car that would whisk her off to Water Mill in the Hamptons for the Darfur Benefit. The gallery had sponsored the charity event, lending artworks to adorn the walls of the stunning new residence in which it was being held, and even offering a few for auction. In thanks for their generosity the gallery had been provided two tickets for the Gala and Frankie was putting them to good use. It would be an opportunity to acquaint herself with some of the gallery's wealthier patrons and even perhaps entice some new ones.

She made her way carefully down the stairs and into the private elevator that opened into her small vestibule and was greeted at the door by her friend and assistant Sophie.

"Hey Soph" She greeted her friend with a brief hug, surprised when her hand fell on bare flesh. "Spin please...." Sophie did as asked " WOW....You look great" Sophie wore a simple black dress that dipped far lower in the back than the modest front would lead you to believe, exposing her all the way to the waist.

"Thanks babe, so do you. Now let's get this thing done so we can get back and hopefully make Jai's party before it's done." Jai was Sophie's brother; he and Frankie had gone to school together, Jai being just a year older.

One of the guys in his college football team was celebrating a birthday, and he had asked Frankie to join him. She was excited at the prospect, she had had a crush on him since junior high and it was only now that they were out of school that he paid her any notice.

"Sounds good to me" Frankie said grinning, imagining dancing through the night wrapped in Jai's arms.

Two hours later the town car was pulling into the drive of a luxurious new Tuscan styled Villa in Head Of Pond Road, the venue of the Gala. The sun was slowly sinking in the sky and the evidence of landscape effect lighting could be seen. Frankie and Sophie disembarked from the car and carefully navigated the gravel drive in their heels as they headed for the entrance. Their picture was snapped in front of the promo backdrop at the door before they were ushered inside and offered a drink. Both girls being younger than the legal drinking age declined the champagne and instead opted for Perrier.

The pair worked the event, chatting amicably with the other guests while drawing their attention to the artworks they were there to promote. The girls worked separately but came together often to compare notes and gossip.

They had been there little over two hours when Sophie approached Frankie and whispered in her ear. "HE'S here!"

"Who?"

"Jon Bon Jovi!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me?" Frankie exclaimed just loud enough to earn a few disapproving glances.

"Nope" Sophie replied and motioned the direction discretely with a flick of her head.

Frankie moved away from Sophie to get a better look; she was only meters from him now. She had to admit, for a man of his age and lifestyle, he had certainly aged well. She could see why women fell at his feet. The charm he exuded was palpable. He was casually dressed in a white button down shirt, the top three buttons undone to reveal silver downy fur, and dark blue denim jeans. His feet were clad in black suede loafers. She examined closely the perfect, even, whiter than white teeth. The azure depths of his eyes and how they crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the cleft in his chin, the soft lips and the mole that sat to the right of his nose, or left as she was looking at him.

A short distance away Dorothea Bongiovi said to her husband "Now look at that, that young girl can't keep her eyes off you and she's barely older than Stephanie. You know, I just can't understand what it is about you that brings women of all ages to their knees." Then she added under her breath "literally", the sexual connotation not lost on her husband.

"Gee Dot, I don't know. Maybe you could tell me, you obviously saw it once too!" Jon walked away from his wife before she could respond. It was not the time or place for that conversation and given her present 'mood' he had no desire to entertain her.

Frankie watched the scene and thought he must have felt her eyes on him for he turned and glanced at her before turning back, speaking briefly to his wife and walking off alone in the direction of the yard. Frankie studied the body language between them, it seemed to her something was lacking. They stood close together but there was no intimacy there, none of the little affectionate touches and attention that her parents had lavished on each other before her father had died.

A tear sprung to her eye as she thought of him, such a tragedy to be taken so young and so full of life. He had not long turned forty-eight when his life was cut short at the hands of a reckless maniac, who ran a red light on a busy city street. Frankie still blamed herself for his death less than a year before. He was only coming home to see her, after all.

Jon circled around the yard and made his way back to the other side of the house where he was able to study the young woman without drawing the unwanted attention of his wife. The girl looked familiar to him but he just couldn't quite place her. He decided the only course of action was to confront the situation head on.

When Frankie finally snapped out of her thoughts, she wiped the stray tear from her face and looked up to find Jon, now alone on the other side of the room, studying her just as intently as she had him. She looked around the room, his wife was nowhere to be seen, and she assumed that she must have made her way out into the yard where the party was now in full swing. She turned her attentions away from him, not wanting to appear awestruck in the face of a Rock Star. She couldn't really say that she was a fan but she knew his music and had to admit he was certainly a very talented and charismatic individual. Curiosity getting the better of her, much to her chagrin, she turned back to where he had stood but he was gone.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" The warm breath on her neck and his voice close to her ear caused her to visibly startle and her drink lapped over the edge of her glass and dripped to the floor. "Shit, sorry...I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well how do expect a person to react when you come up from behind like that" Frankie could feel the warmth radiate from him. By God but he oozed charm, how did women ever resist that.

"Like I said sorry, it truly wasn't intentional. And really it wasn't a line. Do I know you from somewhere?" He studied the young woman before him. Dark Blonde hair fell in a silken sheet to below her shoulder blades. Bright blue intelligent eyes studied him intently. Full luscious lips were set in what he believed to be a perpetual pout, sexy as all hell. He glanced down her body, slim but not skinny, curves in all the right places, much the same as his own daughter. She seemed so familiar to him yet he couldn't quite place it. It was maddening, that piece of information required to solve the puzzle just out of reach of conscious thought, and then it came to him.

"Sorry if I was staring" he said "But you do remind me of someone I knew once a long time ago."

Frankie stood before him dumbstruck, now that he was so close she couldn't quite believe it.

"You ok there honey?" He asked her.

"Oh ....sorry. I don't mean to stare. It's just that well... you've been the object of my dreams of late and I'm just wondering if the real you could ever live up to my fantasy?" Frankie explained unaware of the connotations of what she had just said.

"Whoa, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression honey. Don't get me wrong you're a stunning young woman but barely older than my daughter and I don't do teenagers." He said with an amused grin.

"Well that's ok 'honey'" she said emphasising the term of endearment he had used on her "I have no intention of 'doing' my father!"