XII: (Blown Out of Chicago)

Carla carefully opened the door to their hotel suite, intending to tip-toe quietly to her bedroom so as not to wake Nick. There were so many things to discuss with her partner that she did not want to get into until she'd had a full night's sleep. He was there waiting for her in the living room, however, pacing back and forth and looking like he'd worn a footpath in the carpet. Nick seemed less like the unshaven, depraved individual who had confronted her this morning and more like himself, except that his usual smile was missing.

"Oh, you're awake." Carla was holding a pretty bouquet of peach roses and ivory carnations given to her by Brian, which she set down on the sideboard. She started to undo the belt of her long top-coat but stopped, remembering the chiffon evening gown she was wearing underneath. "I thought you'd be in bed by now."

 "Well I've been waiting up for you. You didn't come home last night, remember? And I haven't seen you all day so I was worried. What's with the flowers?"

The last question was such a non sequitur that it threw Carla off-guard. "Those? Oh, well, I met this charming fellow, and we hit it off so well that he bought me flowers," she fibbed.

"You mean the guy from the diner this morning?" Nick said, arching his eyebrows. He was still pacing. "The one who told me to scram?"

Confused where he was going with the question, Carla decided to go along with it. "Yes, him. We were out on a date, which is why I'm home so late. We caught a picture at the--" And then she saw the calculating look in Nick's eyes, and her entire story of how she had gotten the flowers flew out the window. "Of course, why didn't I realize..." Carla smacked a hand to her forehead. "You were at Brian's show."

"I was," Nick said simply.

Carla froze, feeling a rush of dread course through her body. "Which means that you saw me play."

"I did."

"Oh, uh... Surprise?" She found Nick's cool demeanor incredibly unnerving; it was tough to gage his reaction.  "I've been meaning to tell you."

He stopped pacing. "Really, when? After you got an article printed about you in the papers? How long has this been going on?"

"Since we got to Chicago or thereabouts," she said meekly. "But you weren't supposed to find out like this, Nick. I really was going to tell you. Are you mad?"

"Mad? You mean mad that my partner has been performing without me behind my back, not to mention using my last name for it--no clue what compelled you to do that, by the way--and everyone knew about it except for me? Gee, I don't know. How do you think I feel?"

"Well when you put it that way..." Carla bit her lip. On the one hand, she felt guilty for keeping Nick in the dark all this time; on the other hand, it wasn't fair for him to turn something that made Carla so happy into a point of contention between them, especially when Nick had made mistakes as well. Holding on to that thought, Carla decided to fire back at him. "What were you doing at the show anyway? I thought you said that you couldn't get tickets."

He shrugged. "A friend of mine had tickets and invited me to go with her."

"Oh, isn't that swell." Carla rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the two of you had a real gay time, going off to a show that you know I was dying to see. I bet you didn't even spare one thought for little ol' me." Since Nick knew already about her performance, she shrugged off her coat and went to hang it in the closet, the gauzy chiffon of her evening gown swaying as she moved. She noted with satisfaction that seeing her filmy dress up close made Nick's eyes bulge.

"I tried to find you to invite you too, you know, but you were avoiding me. In fact, you were at the show yourself so what does it matter?"

"What does it matter?" Carla scoffed and said breezily, "That's so like you-to be out chasing skirts and having a good time when you and I are fighting, just like how you went out with Lillian when we were supposed to have a show. It seems to me that our partnership, our music is becoming less and less important to you, Nick. Are you surprised that I've been performing solo? With such a flaky partner, what do you expect?"

Nick's coolness disappeared and he looked agitated. Crossing the room to stand right in front of Carla, he grasped her by the shoulders. "I've already told you that I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. And don't you go giving me a hard time about skirt chasing, ‘cause I know that you've been flirting with Brian Littrell, okay? I saw the way he looked at you when you two were on stage together, and I'm sure he's the one who gave you those flowers."

"What's wrong with that?" Carla asked, confused by the tone in his voice. She had been pleasantly surprised and flattered by the attentions of the most famous crooner in all of America.

"He's way older than you, Carl! You're still seventeen, and he's what--twenty-three, twenty-four?"

"He's twenty-three, which is not at all old, and what's it to you, anyhow?" she demanded. With a toss of her shoulders, she shrugged off Nick's grasp and went to stand on the other side of the coffee table in order to put more distance between them. "I'm responsible for myself. Sure, when you first met me I was a little wet behind the ears, but that doesn't make me a child. I feel like I've really grown up over the past several months. Since when are you responsible for me?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'm responsible for you. If I hadn't been there to look after you, you never would've survived. In fact, you would never would've made it out of that town of yahoos you came from."

Carla made a sound of disbelief. "I think our time in Chicago has proved that for a yahoo I can make it just fine on my own, thank you very much. I've played in all sorts of venues without you, and now Brian has offered me a spot on his tour. Oh, and his manager Mr. Pearlman wants to sign me to his talent agency. He even says he can get me a recording deal!" She was still on the fence about whether to accept or not, but Nick didn't need to know that.

"You, go on tour with Littrell? I won't let you, Carl!" He threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

"You can't stop me!" she told him. "And you know what, I'm real sick of you calling me Carl all the time when we're not even on stage. It's like--"

Nick came charging around the coffee table, and before Carla knew what was happening one of his arms was around her, pulling her close. His other hand tilted her chin up slightly, and then his lips were on hers, kissing her with great urgency. Carla squirmed in Nick's grasp, but he only squeezed her more tightly, his hands curling into the soft fabric of her gown, and deepened the kiss. Frantically, she lifted her foot and with her free hand took hold of her beaded slipper, clubbing Nick in the back of the head with it just as his warm tongue brushed against hers. Nick staggered back and Carla fled to the opposite end of the room, brandishing her shoe at him. "What are you doing?!" she breathed. "Don't you ever try anything like that again!"

There was a creaking sound and both of them turned to see the front door ajar. "Is someone there?" Carla breathed. Silence.

"Close the damn door!" Nick told her. "Why'd you leave that thing open anyway?" He sat down heavily on the couch, slouching with his chin in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees.

"I thought I did close it..." She firmly shut the door and turned the lock then joined him on the couch, leaving a cushion's worth of space between them. They sat there in silence a good few minutes until Carla said finally, "What'd you even do that for?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "To make you shut up, I guess."

Her mouth dropped open but she quickly recovered. "Well I would appreciate it if next time you tried a different tactic. I don't like being handled the way you handle all your other girls." He nodded, and they continued to sit there in stony silence. Carla felt a tension between them that she had never felt before. She didn't know if it was necessarily from the kiss or simply because this was the first serious row they'd ever had. Usually they got along quite well and rarely quarreled, so to fight like this felt strange.

It was Nick who broke the silence next. "Look, Carla," he said, emphasizing her name, "I know that I fouled things up in a big way, but not for the reasons that you think." He proceeded to recount the story of the record deal with Vance Records and his entanglement with Lillian. Once all the pieces of the story came together, Carla realized that Nick hadn't abandoned her after all, that it was one huge misunderstanding. "When I missed our show, I wasn't out having a good time," he explained. "I was stranded at Lake Michigan trying my darnedest to get back into the city. I feel really badly about missing the show and about letting you down. So, yes, I made some bad judgment calls along the way, especially in regards to Lillian, and ultimately it was my own fault for not making it to the show, but I never forget about you or our music. I hope you can forgive me."

Carla nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry for being so quick to judge you... and also for not telling you sooner about Carla Carter. I love performing together as ‘Nick and Carl.' I just wanted to see what it was like to stand on my own two feet; I wanted to find out if people could accept me for who I am, and not just as the mute sidekick of Nick Carter."

"Well, you're fantastic, in case you haven't figured it out yet." He sighed. "And now you're going on tour with the famous Brian Littrell..." Nick's voice sounded bitter.

"I don't see what you have against Brian when the other day you were so eager to go to his show. And to be honest, I haven't accepted the offer yet; I'm not even sure if I want to. I mean, this sounds like an amazing opportunity, but when I asked Mr. Pearlman about any other openings, he said he wasn't interested in a guitarist. I don't think I could go without you." If Carla had been looking at Nick instead of down at her hands, she would have seen the faintest of smiles curl up at the corner of his mouth. "Plus it's such a big change. I don't want our duo to split, do you?"

"Definitely not. I think we're great together. Come here," he said, putting his arm out. Carla scooted over on the couch and Nick put his arm around her in a hug. "If touring with Brian is really what you want, then I'll try my best to be gracious and not put up a fight, but I'm not going to be happy about it. Apart from being a great pianist, you're my friend, and I would feel pretty crummy if you left."

 "I don't think I would be very happy either if we separated. Tomorrow I'm supposed to meet with Mr. Pearlman to tell him my decision. As for Brian... " Carla sighed. "He's awfully charming, but I think it's a bit hasty for me to just take off across the country with someone I don't know." She missed the irony of her words. "I want to give Nick and Carl another try. I know that if the two of us keep at it, we'll get our big break."

"Nick and Carl, huh? What about Carla Carter?"

"I'm sure we can work something out." She smiled up at him. "Just don't call me a yahoo ever again."

...

The next day Carla caught the trolley uptown to the cafe where she and Lou Pearlman were supposed to meet. He was sitting at a booth with a cup of coffee waiting for her, a stack of files and contracts at his elbow. "Ah, Miss Carter, good to see you. Please, won't you take a seat? Coffee, tea?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I'd like to keep this brief, Mr. Pearlman. While I truly appreciate your offer to sign me to your talent agency, I'm afraid I must regretfully decline it and also Brian's offer to finish the tour with him. Chicago has been most kind to me, and I'd like to continue to try my luck here."

Pearlman's eyebrows arched slightly, but he made very little reaction otherwise. His huge ham fists didn't shake in the least as he grasped his coffee mug and took a long slow drink. "I'm quite surprised, Miss Carter. You seemed amicable to the idea yesterday night. May I ask what changed your mind overnight?"

"I didn't mean to sound overeager last night... It's true, I was more than a little excited after performing with Brian but I made no promises. In fact, I told him that I needed to think about it a bit more." Carla bit her lip. "I realize that this is a wonderful opportunity, and I don't mean to be ungrateful but I simply cannot go without my friend, the guitarist whom I spoke to you about. Since you've made it clear that you have no need of a guitarist on your tour, I must thank you for the offer and respectfully decline it."

"This is very unexpected, Miss Carter.  Brian, especially, was looking forward to having you on tour."

"I know, and I'm sorry." Carla produced an envelope addressed to Brian from her handbag and presented it to Mr. Pearlman. "Please give this letter to him for me. I understand if he's too busy to meet with me again before you leave for the next tour stop, but I hope this letter can explain to him my actions."

Pearlman took the letter from her and stared at it thoughtfully before tucking it away with his papers. "To turn down an offer like this, you must have something big lined up already. What are your future plans?  I daresay you and Nick Carter are in quite the pickle after that incident at the Aragon Ballroom the other night."

"Well, yes, there's that, but Nick is working on getting back in Mr. Winderley's good graces so I--" Carla stopped abruptly. "Wait, I never told you about Nick and me. How did you... Did Brian say something?"

"No, does Brian know as well?" Pearlman asked in surprise. "He never mentioned a word about you being the other half of ‘Nick and Carl.' I was able to deduce it on my own. You let slip about your partner the other day in the recording studio, which made me curious, so I did some digging."

"Then you understand why I can't go on tour with Brian, Mr. Pearlman. After all, I can't just abandon my partner."

"But you simply must if you know what's good for you." With a shrewd look he reached for one of the files in his stack and extracted several black-and-white photographs. Carla gasped when she saw that they had been taken the night before during her argument with Nick. One was of Nick grasping her by the shoulders, a heated expression on his face; the next photo showed them locked in a passionate kiss moments before Carla had been able to free herself by batting Nick on the head with her shoe. But there was no evidence of a struggle in the picture. Carla herself had to admit that in the photograph she appeared to be enjoying the kiss. "I had these developed this morning, Miss Carter. As you can see, these photos are very telling."

"Where did you get these?  How...?"

"In a big city like this you really musn't forget to lock your door behind you," Pearlman chided. "You never know what sort of characters might come by and open the door unnoticed, especially when you're in the middle of a passionate argue with your lover and not paying attention to your surroundings."

"My lover!" Carla choked out. "No, this is a misunderstanding. Nick and I aren't--this simply isn't what it looks like."

"Oh, really? I have a witness account that you two have been holing up together for some time now. Nick has a very loose reputation, and if it gets out that you two have been co-habiting, I'm afraid your reputation will be destroyed. Carla Carter, which I doubt is your real name, will never be able to work anywhere but cabaret revues and sleazy night clubs. As for Nick and Carl, well I'm sure that between Nick's actions at the Aragon and your own shocking behavior, Chicago will be so scandalized that you two will never play in this town again," he told her with a look of barely contained glee.

Carla could feel the blood pounding in her ears. "Are you... blackmailing me? You can't do this to us!"

"Actually, I can. I have more connections than you can imagine. I know people in every big city. I'll run you out of Chicago; I'll run you out of New York. You name it. You'll never be able to get a gig anywhere of quality. I will ruin you." Pearlman showed no compassion when tears formed in Carla's eyes and began to run down her cheeks. "Now, your other option is to forget about Nick Carter altogether and come on the road with me and Brian. Nick can go back to being a womanizing guitarist, and you can be famous. It'd be better for the both of you."

"Why are you doing this?" Carla whispered.

"Because whatever Brian wants, Brian gets. If this is how I have to do it, then this is what I'm going to do."

Pulling a handkerchief from her purse, she dabbed at the corner of her eyes. Carla could see no way out of this mess. She bowed her head and, body shaking, nodded in submission. "Fine, but at least let me say goodbye to Nick," she pleaded.

"While I'm drawing up the paperwork for your contract, my driver will take you back to your hotel to gather your things and say goodbye to him. I'll send along two of my assistants to make sure you don't try any funny business. Meet me at Banner Records in an hour, yes?"

The assistants turned out to be two burly-looking henchmen that Carla could only describe as thugs. One posted himself outside the entrance to Nick and Carla's building, while the other went around to the alleyway in the back. "You got fifteen minutes to pack and be back down here, or we's comin' upstairs to pack for you. The boss told us your room number," the henchman at the front entrance warned Carla, crossing his arms imperiously.

She rushed inside, ran stumbling up four flights of stairs-the building having no elevator-and burst into their hotel suite, startling her partner who had been tuning his guitar. "Nick, I--I messed up," she gasped. "Badly. I'm in soooo much trouble, and I don't know what to do!"

"Slow down." He rose and crossed the living room to her. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's Mr. Pearlman!" Carla said wildly. "He threatened me. He has photos."

"What kind of photos?"

"From last night when the door was open. He got photos of you-of you kissing me. And he knows that we've been living together. He says if I don't leave with him and Brian on tour today, he's going to tell everyone that we're lovers living in sin." Her cheeks burned.

"You and I both know that's not true," Nick reminded her.

"It's our word against his, and you know you have a reputation for being a womanizer. Between the photographs of  us, and the fact that he says he has a witness to prove we've been living together, we don't stand a chance. Mr. Pearlman says he'll expose us, ruin our reputations, use his connections to make sure we can never play here or anywhere ever again. I don't know what to do, Nick!" she cried.

"That bastard," Nick swore. He turned away from her and appeared to be thinking.

"Oh, this is all my fault!" Carla cried. She went to the sideboard where she'd placed Brian's flowers and flung them on the floor. "I never should've agreed to play that show with Brian. What was I thinking? Of course someone was going to figure out my identity."

Nick put up a hand to silence her. "Shut up for a second, will you?" He paced back and forth, chewing on his lip, as he worked out a plan. "Besides playing music," he said slowly, "there's only one other thing I know how to do, and that's run. Chicago is the railroad center of the nation; we can catch a train anywhere. We'll lay low for a bit, figure out what to do. The main thing is to get out of this city and away from Pearlman."

"But his henchmen are guarding the entrance," Carla told him. "They're not going to just let us waltz out of here."

"Then we'll have to leave another way. Change into some traveling clothes and pack your bag.  Be ready to go in ten minutes."

Carla went to her room and flung open the closet. When did I get so many clothes?! she wondered, looking at the different gowns, blouses, and skirts she had acquired during their time in Chicago. She'd made quite a bit of money performing as Carla Carter and had been using the money to build her wardrobe so she would have a variety of outfits to perform in. But there was no way she could take them with her now. With a groan Carla dug around the corner of the closet for her traveling pack, tossing aside an expensive pair of white glittery heels. It was a waste, really. She'd spent all that money and now she had to leave all her pretty things in Chicago.

It could be worse, she reminded herself. You and all these dresses could be forcibly dragged out of here by Mr. Pearlman's thugs. When she thought of it that way, Carla decided that her wardrobe wasn't worth it. She stripped off the blouse and skirt she was wearing, kicked them aside, and reached for a pair of trousers, shirt, and belt. There was no time to bind her torso so she shrugged on a coat to hide her chest and stuffed the bandage wrappings into the bottom of her pack along with the rest of her boy clothes. She didn't have much space left for any feminine articles of clothing, so she picked out a simple day dress and low slingback heels.

Going over to her bed, Carla reached under the mattress and fished out the coins and dollar bills she had stuffed under there. Altogether she had saved a little over ten dollars, after dress shopping and sending money back home to her family. She shoved the money into her pack and then went out to meet Nick. He was waiting for her in the living room, his guitar and traveling pack ready to go. Nick's bag was much larger than Carla's as he also had to carry their camping supplies.

"You ready?" he asked. She nodded and he went over to the window, sliding it open. "I figure we can use the fire escape. The alleyway is kind of narrow, so they shouldn't be able to see us from the street."

"But I saw one of the guys go around to the back of the building," Carla told him.

"Oh, don't worry. We're not going down; we're going up." He pushed his travel pack out the window first and then climbed through with his guitar. "Here, hand me your bag." Nick took Carla's pack and then gave her a hand out onto the fire escape. They were on the fifth floor, and the landing was very narrow and cramped with the both of them standing on it. It was a long drop down. Carla could just make out a black spot moving below, which turned out to be an alley cat slinking among the garbage bins. She shrank back against the wall and tried not to look down again.

Nick shouldered his bag and started climbing the ladder up to the roof ahead of her. As Carla reached for her own bag, she heard the voice of one of the henchmen calling from the hallway. "Eh! Your fifteen minutes is up, lady. Come on out." The doorknob rattled, and Carla hurried up the ladder after Nick. "I don't want no games. Mr. Pearlman said we has to be back at the studio by eleven. I'm giving you ‘til the count of three, and if you don't open this door, I'ma bust it down. One..." She was halfway up the ladder. "Two..." Almost to the top. "Three!" Carla heard the sound of crashing and then the splintering of wood as she climbed over the edge to the roof of the building.

"Come on!" Nick was waiting for her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her across the rooftop to the other end. The roof of the next building was about ten feet away and a five foot drop. "Gimme your bag." He hurled her pack and his onto the opposite rooftop and started to back away from the edge, giving himself room to jump.

"Are you crazy?!" Carla shrieked. "That's at least a fifty foot drop if we miss the jump."

"Well then don't miss. I've made wider jumps than this." Nick adjusted his guitar on his back, and without another word sprinted for the edge of the building.

Carla's heart was in her throat as she watched him take a flying leap and land hard on the next rooftop. She cringed to think what would have happened to Nick's guitar if he'd landed badly, or to him if he hadn't reached the other side at all. But he'd been able to clear the gap with plenty of room to spare, so Carla hoped that as long as she gave herself enough space for a running start, she could make it as well.

"You can do it!" Nick called to her.

She nodded and after a steeling breath took off. "Don't look down, don't look down," she chanted.  Just as Carla reached the edge of the building, she leapt and suddenly she was sailing over the open gap, the wind whistling past her body. She hit the ground hard and her knees buckled.

"I got you." Nick caught her before she collapsed and helped her to get steady on her feet again. "Come on. It'll take them a second to figure out we climbed up instead of down to the street. We can take the fire escape down on the other side of this building."

When the two of them made it safely down to the street, they hailed a taxi to just outside of Grand Central Station where they looked for the next train to depart. Sneaking amongst the waiting trains, their footsteps crunching lightly in the gravel, they tried their best to avoid detection. When they thought they had found the right train, Nick located an unlocked boxcar and together they slid the heavy door open. They clambered inside and shut the door behind them, closing themselves off in complete darkness.

"Think you remember how to do this?" Nick asked.

It had been over a month since they'd stowed away on a train, and Carla had grown accustomed to the comforts of the city and their hotel suite. She wasn't sure if she was ready to go back to a life of backpacking across fields and camping in the woods, but she didn't want to admit so to Nick. "I think so," she said. "Nick? I'm really sorry about this whole mess."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Believe me, it's not the first time I've had to flee a city like this--though I guess that's not a good thing," he added with a laugh.

The train's whistle sounded, and with a lurch it took off from the train station, gradually picking up speed. After a few minutes Nick opened the door a crack and peeked outside. The train was just pulling away from the city, which meant it was safe for them to climb up to the catwalk. Carla assisted Nick in sliding the door open wide, and then took off her traveling pack and set it on the floor. With Nick helping to boost her up and keep her from falling out of the moving train, Carla climbed onto the rooftop. She reached down to grab Nick's guitar and their bags, then offered her hand as Nick pulled himself up to join her. They were greeted by a few other stowaways as they settled in for the ride.

In the distance, Chicago was growing smaller and smaller as the train sped away. Nick put his arm around Carla and they said goodbye to the city where they had watched their dreams rise and fall.