CDMX - 35. CDMX • XXXV

Although it did not come as a surprise, CJ found the note taped to his apartment’s front door amusing. In both English and Spanish, it asked for quiet due to a TV interview being recorded.

He slipped off his shoes and carried them while silently padding toward the kitchen. A smiling Owen leaned against the doorframe, watching the proceedings in their living room. Their kiss was brief and quiet.

CJ discarded his footwear, coat, and briefcase, dropping them on one of the kitchen island stools, and returned to stand next to his husband.

“How long have they been at it?” As CJ spoke, Chipper at last noticed him and winked.

“A bit. After they landed, the entourage went to check the auditorium out, stopped by the hotel, and then the three of them came over.” Their friend would be staying at their apartment that night and join his band and staff at the hotel the next day.

“Where are the other two?”

Owen pointed at the balcony. “Out there with Liebe. She seems to like Peter.”

“Yeah, I can see that. He’s barely taller than she is.” They had met Peter Pure, Chipper’s personal assistant cum manager in January. The man, a dwarf, was barely taller than four feet which was not too far off Liebe’s height. She had surpassed the average size for a girl her age during every visit to the pediatrician.

“Don’t start, Ceej.”

“Why release a new album in Spanish at the same time as another in English? Wouldn’t delaying one or the other have increased your exposure?” If Felicia had noticed CJ’s arrival and his subsequent whispered conversation with Owen, she gave no indication. Her voice was steady and the friendly tone did not falter.

“I’m not so sure about that, Felicia. You are asking me about both of them, aren’t you? Seems to me as if neither one detracts from the other. But practically, the timing was right.” Chipper and his management team had delayed the releases after the Grammy wins to coincide with the beginning of his tour. It was also a way of encouraging fans to buy his debut album and maximize its sales. On the eve of his world tour’s kick-off, two new offerings were made available simultaneously. “The albums are related, a few of the songs appear on both although in different languages.”

CJ was impressed with how comfortable Chipper appeared talking to the journalist. Even though she was someone he had never met before. He had warned his friend Felicia could hurl hard balls, but she was pitching easy ones so far.

“Your Spanish is close to flawless. How difficult was it to get in the right frame of mind to record in a language other than English?”

“Not at all.” Chipper looked good dressed casually in jeans and a Versace Medusa t-shirt with a pair of red, green, and white sneakers emulating the Mexican flag colors. “You have to remember I may be a boy from New York City, but both my parents are from Argentina. I grew up speaking Spanish, took classes all the way through college, and while at the University of Miami, I was immersed in the Latin American capital’s community and culture. It made sense to sing in my parents’ tongue.”

“It seems to have worked in Monterrey last night.” Felicia had already congratulated him on the positive reviews of his first show.

“I owe it to the audience. They were amazing. Their energy inspired and motivated me, and the reviewers were generous. If all my future concert appearances go as well, I’ll never complain.”

“Why did you choose Mexico as the first stop in your Latin American tour?”

“It was done in consultation with my entire team. Mexico was an easy choice, though. It’s our closest Latin neighbor and my two best friends live here.”

“You’ve mentioned the Latin portion of the tour several times. How long will this segment last?”

“I’m not exactly sure. There’s the potential of adding shows in a few cities. I do know we wrap up in Buenos Aires, we’ll take a break then, and I plan to spend a little time with my mother before we leave for Europe. In August we’ll be in London.”

The back and forth continued for another thirty minutes or so. Felicia was wrapping things up when the balcony door slid open and Liebe ran towards Chipper. “Uncle Chipper, you sing now.”

“And on that note, I’ll end my questioning.” Felicia looked directly at one of the cameras for the first time. “In case this makes the final cut, and viewers wonder who the gorgeous girl who just joined us is, she’s the daughter of Chipper’s previously mentioned best friends. Liebe was kind enough to let us conduct our conversation, but I think she’s ready for her uncle to serenade her. As are those of us anxiously awaiting your performance.

“Thank you for your time, Chipper. And our thanks to Licenciado CJ Abelló and Dr. Owen Liston for allowing us to conduct our chat in their home.” She unclipped the microphone from her blouse as she told her crew to pack things up. She and Chipper both stretched after standing.

“My thanks to you, Felicia. You were very kind.”

“It’s been my pleasure. Thank you, for the exclusive.” Chipper had held a press conference earlier in the day, and Julian Torres had promised several reporters five minutes each during rehearsal breaks on Thursday. Felicia was offered the extended time at CJ and Owen’s suggestion.

While in Miami earlier in the year, they had talked about their reporter neighbor and how much they liked her. Julian, in charge of the Latin American portion of Chipper’s tour, asked if she would be interested in a sit down with the rising star. Felicia could not say yes fast enough when CJ called her on the spot.

“Ceej!” When Liebe noticed her fathers exiting the kitchen, she moved her short legs as fast as she could, propelling her toward CJ. Colliding with him, she wrapped her arms around his legs.

“Hey, Munchkin. How you doin’?”

“Good. Uncle Chipper va a cantar.”

“I don’t know if he’s gonna sing or not. Why don’t you go ask him yourself again?” CJ turned the girl around and nudged her in the couch’s direction. Looking up, he grinned at the two men who had looked after her during the interview. “Julian, Shorty, welcome to Mexico City.”

Julian laughed while Peter gave him the bird. “Keep it up, CJ. Your daughter likes me, and I can turn her against you.”

“She likes you because you two are about the same height.”

“Go to hell!”

“CJ, Owen, I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity. Did you know one of Chipper’s new songs’ the top hit in Mexico right now? Your friend’s going to be a big star.”

Felicia had already dismissed the rest of her crew, and CJ was surprised when he noticed. “Your staff was quick and very quiet. I didn’t even notice them leaving.”

“They’re experienced. It’s my favorite crew to work with, and I always request them when doing high-profile interviews. Many are done in private homes and the guys know how to be careful and respectful.”

“How about I sing for you after dinner? I’d like to have a glass of wine and talk to your dads for a bit.” Chipper had squatted to reach Liebe’s eye level and spoke to her in a non-condescending manner; CJ and Owen had warned him she did not respond well to child-speak.

“Felicia, did you ask Chipper about his wine knowledge? It’s as good as Owen’s”

“I didn’t know, and I didn’t bring it up. Does your family own vineyards too?”

Chipper shook his head. “My mom’s worked in the industry since before I was born. I probably had my first taste while in diapers, just like Liebe here did.”

“I’ll have to do a little research, and I may have a question about it later. Mostly for my own benefit.”

“Any time. I’m spending the night here so feel free to call.”

“How about I throw a chicken breast in the skillet? Infanta left a plate of them already seasoned along with the enchiladas. Probably for dinner tomorrow since she won’t be here.” Cinco de Mayo was a holiday and they always gave the nanny the day off when the embassy was closed. She had been surprised and delighted when CJ and Owen offered free tickets for her, her husband, and Lupe to Chipper’s Friday night concert.

“Nah, don’t bother.” Chipper had mentioned he avoided dairy products the days before a performance; the resulting mucus could play havoc with his vocal cords. “It’s only a rehearsal tomorrow.”

“It’s not a problem, mate. You three can drink while CJ cooks and I feed Liebe.”

“No, honest. Those enchiladas look too good to pass up.”

“Does she cook for you guys every day?” Julian had momentarily met Infanta when he and Peter arrived at the apartment, but since they had volunteered to look after Liebe during the interview, Owen had sent the nanny home early.

“About two or three times a week. CJ enjoys cooking, and we do eat out often. We like to try different places. Mexico City may not have the abundance and variety of cuisines you’d find in New York or Washington, but the food scene’s pretty hip.”

“That’s one thing I’m looking forward to, traveling to all these cities: the food.” Chipper glanced at the wine bottle’s label and sighed. The New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc had been one suggested by CJ and Owen’s Kiwi friends. “Unfortunately, no Asia, Australia, or New Zealand this tour.”

Using an oven mitt, CJ retrieved the hot pan with the enchiladas and set it atop the island. “How long are you gonna be on the road total?”

“Close to a year. Three months in Latin America, three in Europe, and three in the U.S. There are a couple of breaks like the one in Buenos Aires.”

“Ha! Keep thinking that, but I already told you to double the estimate.” Julian sounded adamant. “I’m leaving him in Buenos Aires, CJ. A different promoter’s running the Euro segment. Chipper doesn’t yet realize the magnitude of his popularity and how fast it’s growing.”

“So you think he’ll be on the road for two years straight?” CJ could not imagine traveling for that long at a stretch. Sleeping in a different hotel in a new city almost every night.

“Hell no! No way would I do that. I should wrap Europe up in late October or early November. The schedule has lots of flexibility in case there’s demand for those additional shows I mentioned to Felicia. We’re taking time off around the holidays, then we’ll hit the road again at the beginning of 2023.”

“So you’ll be taking two months off?”

“More like six weeks and not entirely. Last time I was in D.C., I stopped by Blues Alley to say hi.” A Washington institution, Chipper had performed at the blues and jazz club while in high school. “I owe them for giving me a chance to get on stage when I was a kid, so I offered to do a couple of shows. The Thursday night one will be a surprise, but Julian swears once word gets out, there’ll be lines around the block Friday and Saturday.”

“I hope you’re working for more than minimum wage and tips.” CJ recalled Chipper being more interested in performing in front of a live audience than in what he was being paid.

“I am. But not much more. I see it as repaying a debt instead of trying to squeeze a few dollars out of them. There aren’t enough places like that left in the country, and I’d like to support them. Next time I’m headed to Miami, I’ll make Tobacco Road the same offer.” The lounge held liquor license number one in Miami-Dade County; it was the oldest legal drinking establishment in South Florida.

“So what happens with the two of you after Buenos Aires?” CJ directed the question at Julian and Peter.

“I return to Miami, take a vacation, and go to work on my next project.” Julian shrugged as if his plans were nothing special. “I’ll probably spend time helping plan a different tour.”

“What about you, short stuff? I don’t even know where you’re from.” Calling Peter ‘short stuff’ was not even acknowledged. CJ was sure by this point the man had realized there was no malice behind the name-calling.

“California.”

“We were just in Malibu at my dads’ place for a weekend. You have family there?”

“Just my parents. They’re in Santa Clarita north of L.A.”

“You going to visit them then? I’m assuming you’ll be part of the Euro contingent, right?”

Peter chuckled. “Euro contingent. You do have a way with words, Tootall. Yep. As long as I don’t get fired, I’m in for the long haul.”

“And why would you get fired?”

Chipper took it upon himself to respond. “Because as you discovered, Peter can be excitable and at times acts like a jerk. Miles, our shared lawyer, pushed me to hire him, claiming he was one of the best people available for the job. He arranged a meeting, and Mr. Pure here got on my nerves. So much so I told Miles there was no way I could put up with his crap.”

The personal assistant looked and sounded sheepish. “I’ve had a chip on my shoulder since I was a kid. Thanks to people picking on me because of my height. When I met Chipper, I figured he was another tall, good-looking guy with talent and zero desire to deal with real people. I could foresee him turning into another spoiled star-wanna-be, and may have been a tad rough in my assessment. I admit I was wrong about him.”

“A tad?” Chipper’s guffaw made Peter smirk and look down. “He tore into me about how I’d never amount to anything unless I followed his direction.”

“Yeah, I may have been full of myself. Anyway, Miles sent Chipper out of the room and spent time describing where he foresaw your buddy’s career going. He gave me an ultimatum: I either adapted, or he would find someone else.”

“You adapted.” CJ was enjoying the conversation and looked forward to spending time with Peter. If he remained in Chipper’s employ, the man would be dealing with CJ and Owen on an ongoing basis.

“I did.” Peter smirked. “Afterward, Chipper made it clear I would keep my job as long as he was happy. So, I try to humor him.”

“By pissing off my best friends when you first met them?”

CJ cracked up. “You can lay off him. He did apologize to us.”

After dinner, Chipper kept his promise. He sang to Liebe until she fell asleep. By then, Julian and Peter had left, so he joined his hosts on the balcony when Owen opened a fresh bottle. They talked until it was gone.

“You still run every morning?” Chipper had followed CJ to the kitchen where he finished loading the dishwasher and set it to run.

“Yep. Although since I don’t have to work tomorrow, it won’t be as early as usual.”

“Good. I’ll go with you. Among Julian’s predictions, he has one about me being recognized in the streets. He swears by the time we’re halfway done, I’ll need bodyguards to go out in public. I’m not looking forward to that shit. Might as well enjoy my anonymity while it lasts.”

The following morning, the sweaty men stood in the kitchen after their run, guzzling bottles of Gatorade. Owen sat with Liebe as she ate her breakfast. “We should call César to wish him a happy birthday while Chipper’s here.”

“I always forget Ozzie and your dad have birthdays close to each other.” Chipper leaned close to Liebe. “You wanna call Grandpa A and sing him happy birthday with me?”

The girl nodded while Owen gave their friend a questioning look. “Grandpa A?”

“Yeah… She’s not about to call him Mr. A like we do, is she? She has too many grandfathers to call them all grandpa, and she already calls her great-grandfather Abuelo. I think Grandpa A and Grandpa Cap could work.”

Not wanting to call too early, they waited until eight, ten on the East Coast, assuming César would want to sleep in on his birthday. A sleepy face greeted them when they connected. “Why are you calling this early?”

“Come on, Grandpa A, it’s ten your time.” Chipper, with Liebe on his lap, moved one of her hands to wave at her grandfather.

“No, it isn’t. Vegas’ an hour behind Mexico.” Brett’s face momentarily showed up on the screen. “Hang up, babe. They can call again later.”

“No! Don’t hang up. I’m gonna be tied up with press and rehearsals the rest of the day, and I may not get another chance to talk to you. Happy birthday, Grandpa A.”

“What’s this Grandpa A crap? Where did it come from?”

“Me. I figured since we all call you guys Mr. A and Cap, Liebe could just add grandpa in front of it.”

“I think I like it.”

“Shut up, Jarhead. Ignore Brett. We were up way past curfew, and he must have put an entire bottle of Scotch away. No way he’s sober right now.”

“Not my fault they kept bringing me refills even without me ordering.”

“That’s ’cause the pit boss wanted to get you drunk, hoping you’d lose or leave.”

CJ moved the phone so only his face was visible. “Sorry for waking you guys up, but you have to backtrack. What the hell are you doing in Vegas?”

“Duh! Celebrating his birthday.” Brett tried to grab the phone, but César held it away. “We took Meryl and Kevin up on their offer, and we have a suite at The Aegean. They wanted us to see the before so we could compare it to the after once their five-year renovation project’s done.”

On the main strip, The Aegean Resort was a contemporary of Caesar’s Palace, Vegasfying Greek instead of Roman culture. Meryl Easton had been one of Brett’s mother’s best friends and her current husband was the majority owner of the hotel and casino.

Chipper nodded as if aware of the redevelopment plans. “I had dinner with them before leaving L.A. I promised Kevin I’d talk to him about performing during the reopening.”

“That’s a long way off. Your music might stop selling, your concerts could bomb, and you might be a nobody by then.”

“JARHEAD!”

“Grandpa Cap! You nasty.” CJ may have chastised his father but laughed along with him.

“You better be wrong, Cap. Your granddaughter loves her Uncle Chipper singing to her.” Owen’s words were reinforced by Liebe nodding.

“So what have you guys been up to there?”

“We got in last night, had dinner, went to see Thunder From Down Under at The Excalibur—”

“That’s the stripper show, right? How was it?”

“It was okay… if you like that sort of thing. I mean, it’s just a bunch of good-looking, tan, muscular Aussies wearing very little while dancing.”

“Riiight. I’m sure you suffered all through it.”

“I certainly did. But the craps table cheered me up afterward. I hit a streak and the bones didn’t want to quit.”

“Brett was hot. Literally. After the first fifteen minutes of rolling the dice, he took his blazer off and handed it to me. You could see sweat stains under his arms. Five more minutes and the sleeves were rolled up. The tats made a few people do a double-take. I stopped him when he tried to take the shirt off.”

“Don’t know why. I had a wife-beater underneath.”

“Sounds like you two are acting like a pair of spoiled, rich brats.” CJ loved how his fathers could be the most professional individuals at times while acting like college kids at others. “What’s in the cards for the rest of the weekend?”

“In the cards? Good one! Brett rented a couple of Harleys, and we’re going riding in the desert today. Dinner at L’Atelier tonight.”

“That’s Robuchon’s place at the MGM, right?” CJ recalled first hearing about it during the Las Vegas season of TV’s Top Chef. “I know Michelin doesn’t rate Vegas restaurants these days, but that one got three stars when they still awarded them.”

“Jesus Christ, boy. How the heck do you remember that?”

CJ shrugged. “Who knows. Anyway, what else you doing?”

“Gambling every night. If I keep handing César purple chips to hide the way I did last night, we may be able to stay here indefinitely for free.”

The conversation lasted for some time. While chatting about a party on Lake Mead on Saturday, room service delivered the breakfast ordered the previous night, and Brett and César said goodbye.

CJ and Owen had met Chipper’s band while in Miami, so the musicians were not surprised when their boss’ friends showed up at the afternoon rehearsals. Liebe stole the thunder from her fathers. The girl ran around the stage while Chipper and Julian planned the next day’s playlist and blocked out stage movement. When the drummer sat her on his lap and let the girl bang away, she couldn’t have looked happier.

“I want drums.”

“Not a chance, Munchkin.” CJ lifted her above his head and shook her until she could not stop laughing. “I don’t care how soundproof our apartment may be. I’m sure the neighbors wouldn’t be happy with a novice drummer in the building. Maybe when we move back to Washington.”

“Hey! Stop that. You’re stifling her creative spirit.” Chipper, after CJ put Liebe back on the ground, squatted to talk to her. “Don’t listen to CJ, Liebe. If he doesn’t want to buy you drums, Uncle Chipper will.”

Friday was as normal a day as could be expected. Most people had no idea who Chipper was or that he was in the city, but a select few were aware of his arrival and the fact he was CJ’s friend. Simmone made a point of stopping by his desk to let him know Trixie had been going out of her mind anticipating the evening’s performance.

The next day, the teenager tried to squeeze the life out of CJ and Owen when she arrived to babysit Liebe. “Oh em gee! It was incredible! I can’t say thank you enough for getting me and Mom tickets. And the passes! All my friends are sooo jealous I got to meet Chipper backstage. You guys are gonna have a blast tonight.” It was the longest she had ever talked at once in front of the two men. Since CJ and Owen planned to go out with Chipper and some of his band after the show, Trixie would be spending the night.

It took a few moments for the audience to realize it was Chipper in the middle of the mariachi band walking on stage. Recognizing the man they had come to see, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

“Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay!” One of the men shouted as he strummed his guitar. The opening bars were enough for recognition to dawn on the crowd and the noise level grew when they did.

Chipper tilted his sombrero back, allowing it to slide until it hung by the chinstrap around his neck. “Dicen que por las noches—”

“Is this from that new album you were playing the other day?” Calum sat between CJ and Lincoln with Owen on the other side of the FBI agent.

“Nah… ‘Cucurrucucu Paloma’ is classic Mexican. I know I heard it as a kid when my grandmother would watch the Spanish stations. The man’s kissing ass, ingratiating himself with his fans.”

Although the balance tipped towards material from his three albums, Chipper interspersed a few covers in both English and Spanish. Returning for an encore was never in doubt, an extraordinarily loud ovation and nearly universal show of phones, guaranteed Chipper knew he was appreciated.

“Thank you! Thank you very much. This is my first time in Mexico City, but I already know I’ll be back.” The response was what he must have been expecting, loud cheering forced him to quiet the audience with a hand. “We have some more music for you, but first I’d like your help. One of my best friends turns thirty today, and he’s in the audience. Owen? Where are you?”

Considering he stared directly at his friends, and a spotlight played against all sides of the auditorium before shinning on Owen, CJ knew the question was a ruse.

“I’m glad he chose to celebrate by being here with us tonight. How about you all help me show him how much we appreciate it.” He conducted the audience in a rendition of “Feliz Cumpleaño” that at last made Owen stand and wave in acknowledgment.

“Felicidades, hermano.” Chipper took a few steps back and stared at the audience. “The rest of you, you guys enjoying yourselves?”

Ten thousand voices cheered in response. “I’ve recently been listening to this artist and enjoying his music. Here’s ‘The World’s Mine’ by Samm Henshaw.”

Calum elbowed CJ to get his attention. “I know of Samm! The guy’s a Brit. Cool music.”

The Aussie was right, the song was upbeat and catchy as was the second one by the same artist. A couple more covers, and Chipper and his band left the stage. Minutes later, he returned alone, carrying an acoustic guitar and wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap. He played two old Spanish ballads, and before the second one was finished, the band returned.

“Mexico City, thank you. You’ve welcomed me with open arms, and I can’t thank you enough. We want to end with a song I wrote about my high school years in Washington, my first number one hit, and the one that won me my first Grammy. Here’s ‘The District.’”

“Homeboy! That was sick. You get better each time I see you.” CJ and Owen had been at a Maroon 5 concert the previous summer when Chipper was the opening act. In January, they had seen him in Miami, and now in Mexico City. The complicated handshake and hug, CJ noticed, brought smiles to Julian and Peter.

The dressing room was otherwise empty while Chipper toweled himself dry and changed clothes. “I have half an hour of shaking hands and posing for pictures, you guys wanna come with?”

“Can we just wait in here?” Owen eyed the food table. “We’ll munch on fruit and whatever until you and the band are ready.” Since it was their last night in Mexico—they were flying to Puerto Rico the next day—everyone wanted to go out. Julian had arranged for admission and VIP section seating for the large group at one of the hip clubs in the Zona Rosa. Chipper had insisted they celebrate Owen’s thirtieth birthday.

It was a couple of hours after midnight when CJ and Owen stumbled out of a taxi and into their apartment. “You want water?” CJ made straight for the kitchen.

“Yeah… Please don’t wake me up too early tomorrow.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. You know Liebe’s gonna walk in as soon as the sun rises.”

“Let’s lock the door.”

“Why, so she can bang on it and wake Trixie too? I’ll try to steer her out of the room if she does come in.” CJ grasped Owen’s arm and pulled him in close. “Happy birthday, Oz. I love you.”