Rob wanted to feel excited about the studio session the next day, but the way his life had been going, he found it impossible. He took his time getting back to his apartment. He was in no hurry to face the four walls alone. The next two days, he was off work, and the only plans he'd make the rest of the day lay in the bottle of Jack Daniels.

The day was warm. The sun felt good on his shoulders as he got off the last bus. A slight breeze stirred the leaves in the trees around him. Usually, Rob walked with his head down, not caring about the atmosphere around him. But for some reason, today was different. Was it a small amount of hope he felt?

He wasn't sure if Lucy had stayed but the door to his apartment wasn't locked. He could smell bacon frying from inside. He took that as a sure sign she was still there.

She was standing at the small apartment size stove with a giant red and white beach towel wrapped around her body. 

"Hi there," she said. "Do you like my apron?" She spread her arms and turned in a slow circle, modeling the towel, then turned back to the stove to flip the bacon. " I ran to the store for a few things. I hope you don't mind, but I thought you might be hungry. I know I am."

Rob's stomach rumbled.

Lucy heard it and laughed. "I guess that answers my question."

"I need a drink first," Rob pushed past her and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard over her head. "I hope you don't mind."

"It's only ten-thirty in the morning, but to each his own." Lucy turned off the stove and started to take the bacon from the cast iron skillet.

He took a tall glass from another cupboard, filled it with ice from the freezer, grabbed the bottle of Jack, and went to the table. He sat down and poured a fair amount of the whiskey into the glass. The smell made him dizzy with longing. No Coke. He forgot to stop by the store again.

Fuck it, he thought and put the glass to his lips. He tipped it and let the burning liquor run down his throat. It went straight to his head, and he started to feel better about things. He poured more into the glass and glanced up at Lucy.

"Want to join me?" he asked, holding up the bottle.

"Oh, hell, no." She shook her head and grabbed a plate out of a cupboard. "I need food."

"Suit yourself," Rob said, then took another drink. "It smells good, though."

"I think you need to eat something," she said, bringing two plates to the table. "Just a little bit."

"I'll eat when I'm ready."

A bulging paper sack sat on the table. Rob pointed at it. "What's this?" he asked.

"You don't remember?" Lucy shoved a piece of bacon in her mouth and took a bite of toast. "It's the money," she said around the food.

Rob averted his gaze. He hated it when people talked with their mouths full. It disgusted him and showed a lack of manners.

"What money?" He stared at his tennis shoes firmly planted on the green tile floor. He took another drink. It tasted better and better.

"You forgot?" she asked, finally swallowing. "It's the money we made singing last night."

"I don't remember last night."

"I know that. But I told you about it this morning. How could you forget already?"

"I just forgot, that's all." He shrugged and poured more liquor into his glass. "I have a lot of shit on my mind right now, Lucy."

"Open it."

He hesitated, staring at her across the table. Her grin was broad. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Go on," she insisted. "Open it."

He reached for the paper bag and turned it upside down. Coins and paper money fell into a pile on the table. Rob tossed the empty bag aside and ran his fingers over the money.

"Is this for real?"

"Of course, it's for real."

"But how?"

"Well, I met you late Sunday afternoon. You were pretty drunk already. You wanted to sing karaoke," she laughed. "You were very insistent. You went around the bar asking everyone to sing with you. The only problem was we were at The Frolic Room, and there's no band or karaoke there. No room for it."

"What did we do then?" Rob hated his blackouts. Hated not remembering. He was so afraid that he would wake up to find out he had done something horrible one day.

"We went to the Brass Monkey. There's nothing but karaoke there."

"We made all of this money there?"

"Oh, no," she answered. "There's a lot of bars in LA, and we made the most of it. Go ahead and count it."

"Have you counted it yet?"

Lucy nodded, her long auburn hair shaking with the movement.

"Then I don't need to," he said, taking another long drink. "I trust you."

"How can you trust me? You don't even know me."

"Well, I left you alone in my apartment, and you haven't stolen anything."

Lucy laughed. "There's nothing to steal in this place."

Rob laughed with her, his mood lightening. "Right."

"And I made breakfast," she reminded him. "Of which you ate none."

"I'm sorry, Lucy, I really needed a drink after this morning.  And I'm sorry for the sour mood when I got home."

"Count the money," she insisted again, choosing to ignore his apology. "That will cheer you up even more."

"Just tell me how much is there."

Lucy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Close to a thousand dollars," she stated bluntly.

***

Once they split the money from the paper sack, they each had four hundred ninety-four dollars and thirty-seven cents. Rob found an old pickle jar under his kitchen sink, and they threw the change in it. They planned to add any spare coins they made singing into the jar, then split it once it was full.

Rob agreed with Lucy it might be lucrative to keep doing the karaoke on his nights off from the bar. Even though he couldn't remember if she could sing, there had to be a voice there for them to rake in that much cash. He wished he could remember their first night but promised himself he wouldn't drink too much the next time.

Needing a change of clothes, Lucy went home. For the first time in months, he picked up his guitar and started to pick out a tune. The tune had been running around inside his head for quite some time. He wasn't sure where to go with it.

He didn't know if it was the money or Lucy herself. Or both. He liked Lucy; he was starting to like her a lot. She was pretty in an impish sort of way. Her manners needed some work, but he could live with that. Besides, he had no plans to marry her. They would just be sharing a common interest and making money in the process. He just had to see how it would go this evening.

In the morning, he would be going back to Capitol Records. Larry Brown would be recording him in a professional studio. Rob still wasn't sure how he felt about it. He knew he sang well. He had been singing most of his life. He had no idea how he sounded on a recording. At this point, he was pretty sure nothing would come of it. He never had Lady Luck on his side.

***

A light musky scent filled his nostrils and his breath caught in his throat. The fragrance aroused him. It was familiar. Goosebumps broke out on his arms. He felt the long tresses sweep across his chest. A whisper caressed his ear.

“Hello, sleepyhead.” He tasted strawberries as her lips brushed his.

“Lucy,” he murmured.

His fingers trailed lightly across her lips, traveled down her neck, searching for the softness of a breast, the stiffness of a nipple. He knew he found it when he heard a soft moan.

Rob opened his eyes. “Lucy,” he murmured again. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I see that.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “I missed you.”

“I see that, too. Tell me what you want.” Her green eyes flashed with excitement.

"I want you and I want to do this."  He pulled her on top of him, all thoughts of a headache gone.

"Oh, really?" she teased lightly. “I thought you wanted to make money.”

He grabbed her by the ass and raised his hips, pushing himself inside of her. “Fuck money.”

She moaned. "That does feel good."

"Yes, it does." He rocked her slowly. "Let's stay in. We can order pizza. Play Canasta."

Her muscles gripped him as she laughed. "What the fuck is Canasta?"

"I have no idea," he gasped at her movement.

Grabbing her tighter, he rolled her onto her back and shoved himself deeper inside of her. "Come for me, baby," he murmured in her ear. I want to hear you scream."

She felt his warm breath on her ear and moaned louder. "I'm not a screamer.”

"That's too bad." He thrust harder and deeper into her. "I want to be the first to make you scream."

"Not going to happen." Her breathing came faster. Sweat glistened on her body.

He felt her tense up. Her body started to shiver. Immediately, he withdrew from her.

"No!" she cried.

"Oh, no, no," he whispered. "Not yet." He slid down her wet body and spread her legs, wrapping them around his neck. He buried his face between them.

She squirmed beneath him. “Oh, shit.”

He slipped a finger inside of her, slowly moving it in and out while he licked the folds of her vagina. He blew a warm breath on the wetness left from his tongue.

“Rob.” It was a soft cry.

He slipped a second finger into her rear and she tightened up.

He looked up at her. “Relax,” he whispered.

“Rob,” it was almost a sob. “Help me.”

“I will, Luce. I’ll help you. Just relax.”

"I can't!"

"You can."

"Oh, God, I think I'm gonna die!"

He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his cock."You won't die," his voice was muffled against her hair. “I won’t let you.” Shoving harder and harder, in and out, he whispered in her ear. "Now scream for me, Lucy."

The release seemed to last forever. Rob waited for the scream he wanted, and then he joined her in the orgasm.

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