They hit the first bar at ten minutes before eleven. It wasn't quite as crowded as they would have liked, but it was Monday, not a good night for bars unless it was a sports bar. And they would never be allowed to sing during a football game. If they even tried, beer bottles would be thrown instead of money.

They sat at the bar and had a few drinks. Lucy finally decided the crowd would be the only bunch they would get.

A little after midnight, Lucy fired up her karaoke machine and plugged in the first song. Rob insisted she start them out. He had never heard her sing. He was uncomfortable with this situation and wanted to get a decent buzz before singing with a machine that gave him all the words to songs he didn't know.

Lucy's voice surprised him. She had a lot of power for such a little person. The only thing wrong was she had too much power. Her voice was loud, overbearing. Opera would be better suited to her.

Rob decided then he wouldn't be singing karaoke with Lucy. It was probably a bad idea anyway. He had his own gig at the bar where he worked. He shouldn't be out here making a fool of himself when he was already established as a serious musician and songwriter. It could give him a bad name.

Also, he had a demo appointment in the morning that could possibly turn into something huge for him. It was too important to miss. He should be getting some more sleep. Along with his body, his voice had to rest.

He was undecided about how to handle the situation. He was glad Lucy had driven to the bar. That way, her car would still be in the parking lot. He could hail a taxi with no problem. He had a dilemma, though. Should he let her know he was going home or just leave and not say anything? She was so involved with her singing she wouldn't notice him leaving.

He liked Lucy and didn't want to ruin the relationship, but he also had to take care of himself. He was pretty sure his leaving was going to piss her off no matter what. He figured coming clean with her was the best decision. A feeling that he needed to handle her with kid gloves gnawed at him. Underneath her cute, bubbly exterior, he sensed an anger hiding deep within.

Rob ordered another Jack and Coke and waited for Lucy to finish her song. By now, he had a decent buzz. He pulled his wallet out of his jeans' back pocket, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, and tossed it on the bar. That should take care of the drinks he'd had and anything Lucy would be drinking. The rest would just be, I'm sorry, money if she would accepted it.

She finished her song and almost floated over to Rob. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled with elation. "So, what do you think?"

"You want the truth, or do you want me to lie."

Her face fell as she studied his eyes. "What do you mean?"

He smiled to ease his words and spoke carefully. "You can definitely sing," he said. "You have a big voice for such a little person. A lot of power. That's really a plus in your favor, Luce."

The bartender strode by and pointed at Rob's glass. Rob nodded and then pointed to Lucy's empty glass.

"Okay," she dragged out the word. "So, what does that mean?"

He took a deep breath, wishing the bartender would hurry up with their drinks. "Lucy, you're wonderful. I like you a lot. I don't want to damage our relationship if that's what it is, but I can't sing with you."

She crumpled onto the barstool next to him. He felt awful, letting her down that way.

Their drinks arrived. He took a long swallow from his before speaking again. Then he set his glass down and gathered her hands in his. "Lucy, I already have a gig," he said. He proceeded to tell her about his job at the bar, the man in the pajamas and slippers, the trip to Capitol Records, meeting Larry Brown, and the offer of the demo.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I guess your excitement rubbed off on me. The money was attractive too."

"But you were fine with it last night."

"I was shit-faced last night, and I don't even remember." He was hoping she would understand and accept the facts. "I need to go home. It's late, and I'm exhausted. I need to get up early in the morning, so I need to rest my voice tonight. I have to be ready for the appointment."

"You're going home?"

That's all she heard? He thought. Okay, so there was no easy way to play this. "Yeah," he said. "I need to get some rest."

Suddenly, her face grew dark. "Go home then," she said. "I don't care what you do."

"Luce," he didn't want to beg or plead, but he didn't want her angry. "Please understand. This is important for me."

"And this," she waved her hands around the bar, "is important for me. Don't you care?"

"I do care. I care about you, I care about me, but I care a lot more about a contract with Capitol Records. There's nothing that means more to me."

"I get it," she said. "Go home then. I'm going to stay here and make money."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"I'll see you when I see you," she stated bluntly. She grabbed the glass from the bar and finished her drink in one gulp. "Bye, Rob."

The bounce was gone from her step when she left him sitting at the bar and went back to her machine. She picked up the microphone and angrily hit the button for another song, glaring at him the entire time. The song she chose to sing was Randy Meisner's version of Love Me Or Leave Me Alone.

Rob took the hint and left the bar, calling a taxi service on his cell on the way out.

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