Different Circles

Chapter 8: Wrap it Up

Coos Bay, Oregon

February 25, 1992

The Water’s View Restaurant on the west side of Coos Bay certainly lived up to its name. Perched on a cliffside over the rocky shore, its huge westward facing windows offered an impressive vista of the rolling blue ocean stretching off to eternity. And though the sky was overcast on this late winter day, there was just enough of a break in the clouds off to the west for a decent sunset to occur as the party truly got rolling.

Jake and Greg had rented out the entire top floor of the exclusive eatery for the evening. The cause for celebration was threefold. The first reason was that two days before, Greg, Celia, Pauline, and Jake had come to an agreement with Obie over manufacturing, distribution, and promotion of the two albums. This came after a lengthy series of negotiations and compromise that had stretched at times the friendly relationship they had developed with the country singer. The forty percent royalty rate, which Obie had offered in that initial meeting with Pauline on New Year’s Day, had only been the starting point for the deal, and, though that number did not change (nor was it ever suggested by either party that it should change) there were dozens of other numbers and directives that had to be presented, squabbled over, re-presented, modified, and then, one by one, agreed upon. The fact that all of that was done and a deal was in place, with contract signed by all relevant parties, was cause for celebration in and of itself.

The primary reason for the gathering, however, was to serve as the wrap party for the band with no name. As of that very afternoon, at 1:30 PM, the last overdub of the last song had been laid down. It had been a backing vocal track by Phil, Jake, Celia and Pauline singing in harmony for the outro to Jake’s tune Hit The Highway. As of the moment that Sharon and Nerdly approved of the take and committed it to the digital memory of the studio, the recording process was officially over. The band had completed their mission, although there was still at least a month of tedious post-production mixing that would start in two days, and then the final mastering after that. Only Jake, Celia, and the Nerdlys were going to be involved in post-production, however. Almost everyone else would be flying out on a chartered aircraft in the morning to head back to their respective homes and lives. That lent credence to a third aspect of the party. It was a goodbye celebration for a group that had been through quite a lot in the last five months.

Ben had already gone home in mid-January. He was now back at his gig teaching community college students the finer points of guitar playing, and staying up late at night with the infant baby girl his wife had delivered on February 10. Aside from him, however, every other member of the crew was here, seated at the long table, eating seafood or steaks (or, like Jake and Ted, both) and drinking expensive wine. Obie was here as well, having been invited by Pauline. He was not a wine drinker and was instead swilling down whiskey sours like they were going out of style.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Ted, who was sitting across from Jake and Laura, suddenly asked.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably a Rule 3 violation,” Jake told him.

“No, no,” Ted said, shaking his head. “It’s not gross at all, I promise.”

“You’ve said that before, Ted,” Laura told him. “And the stories are inevitably gross on some level, even if you think they’re not.”

“Yeah,” Ted said, “I guess I do have a different standard of what gross is than you all. But even if it is, Rule 3 doesn’t apply here. We’re all done eating, right?” And indeed they were. All the plates had been taken away by the wait staff and everyone was just enjoying their drinks at this point.

“Well ... that seems a bit of a technicality,” Laura said.

“Screw it,” Jake said. “Tell the story, Ted. We’ll stop you if it gets too gross.”

“All right,” Ted said happily. “This one is actually kind of funny, in a weird way. I was working with Maureen States this one shift. She’s a cute little redhead EMT, or at least she was cute when this happened. She got into drinking and popping pills a few years later and well ... she ended up pretty haggard once that shit started—got fired about a year ago after she passed out behind the wheel at post and they found narcotics and alcohol in her system. Last I heard, she was living with some loser dude she met in NA and collecting welfare to get by. Anyway, back then she was still straight in the head and cute as can be. Whenever I look at you, Laura, you kind of remind me of her back then.”

“Uh ... thank you,” Laura said slowly. “I think.”

“So, we get this call for a fall in a shower. A common thing, right? But usually when there’s a fall in a shower it’s some old geezer. This time, however, we get there and find this woman in her early forties, naked as the day she’s born, on her back on the floor of the shower. She was a fatty, you see. At least three and a half bills, maybe even pushing four. She had big old fat rolls, floppy titties that you could’ve wrapped around her waist if you’d wanted to, acres of cellulite, the whole bit. Not exactly someone you really want to see naked, you know what I’m saying?”

“Uh ... yeah, I know what you’re saying,” Jake said. “And you’re edging into the land of gross here.”

“Hey, at least she was clean, right?” Ted asked. “Anyway, she’s not hurt or anything, just too fuckin’ big to get up out of the shower on her own. She’d been sitting on this shower chair deal because she had a hard time standing for the amount of time it takes to shower. Anyway, she fell over backwards—was being really vague about exactly what had made her fall—and that chair is all tangled up between her legs and shit. So, the first thing we do is get that chair out of there. That took a minute or two, and all the time she’s moaning about how she can’t get up. Once the chair was free, me and two of the fire guys get hold of her arms and pull on her until she’s kind of in a sitting position on the floor. We can’t get her up any further than that, though, because she’s so fuckin’ big and she’s slippery—got soap and water and fuckin’ baby oil all over her.”

“Eww,” Pauline said. “Do you have to go into so much detail, Ted?”

“I gotta tell things like they are,” Ted said. “That’s what makes a good story. You gotta set the scene. Anyway, we realized that someone needed to get behind her and push her from that direction while the rest of us pulled and kept her feet braced. Now it was me, three fire guys, and Maureen on the call. There wasn’t much room behind this fat chick, so Maureen had to get in the shower stall with her and get around behind her. She was the only one skinny enough for it.

“She gets into position and me and the guys take our spots. We count to three and everyone puts their asses into it. With Maureen back behind the fatty, she finally comes up to her feet. And then we hear this big thunk from underneath her.” Ted looked at them and grinned. “It was a fuckin’ eight-inch vibrator that made the thunk. It had been stuffed up inside of her the whole time, but we couldn’t see it or hear it because her big old stomach rolls were covering her fuckin’ hoo-haw while she was down. Once she was up, however, gravity pulled that thing right out and it landed exactly between Maureen’s work boots, and it was still buzzing away, jittering around back and forth like them little tiny magnetic football players on that old game we used to play as kids, remember that? Anyway, Mo—that’s what we called Maureen—was still holding this bitch up, but she don’t want that fuckin’ dildo touching her boots. So she starts dancing around back and forth, trying to avoid it. She even screamed at one point. Me and the fire guys, meanwhile, we’re just staring at the fuckin’ thing, still trying to process what we’re seeing for a minute, and then trying not to fuckin’ laugh as we realize what was going on. That’s why the bitch fell in the shower. She was hammerin’ herself and overbalanced when she had the big O.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jake said, grinning. He had to admit, this one was pretty funny, as promised.

“Wasn’t she embarrassed?” asked Laura, her eyes wide.

“She really wasn’t,” Ted said. “She just kind of shrugged it off and said, ‘oops’.”

“Wow,” Jake said. “And just looking at Laura reminds you of that?”

Ted nodded solemnly. “Almost every time,” he said.

Laura chewed on her lip a little. “I’m not sure how to feel about that,” she said.

“It’s no big,” Ted assured her. “Like I said, Mo was really cute back then, just like you are now. I’m sure you’re not going to start popping oxy and pouring vodka in your Big Gulp, right?”

“My Big Gulp?” Laura asked, her eyes flitting to Jake for a moment, her face blushing. “You’re not talking about ... you know...”

“Uh ... no,” Jake cut in, picking up on her thoughts. “That’s not what he’s talking about, hon. A Big Gulp is a drink.”

“A drink?”

“Yeah,” said Ted. “A thirty-two ouncer from 7-Eleven, to be exact. The lifeblood of a medic crew. I like a mixture of Pepsi and Dr. Pepper in mine, sometimes with just a splash of Sprite.”

“I see,” Laura said slowly. She really didn’t though.

Jake decided this was a good time to share a few things with the group. He picked up his wine glass and rapped his finger against it in the traditional manner of telling everyone it’s time to listen to me for a minute. The conversations quickly died down and everyone gave him their attention.

He stood, keeping glass in hand. “Sorry to interrupt, everyone, I just wanted to say a few words before we finish this thing up and start heading back to the house for the last time. First of all, to all of us here. It’s been a long road, full of twists and turns, but we’ve come to the end of it now. Soon, we’ll be hearing ourselves on the radio.” He held up his glass. “To success!”

“To success!” they echoed happily, everyone taking a slug from whatever they were drinking.

“And that success is coming,” Jake told them. “I can feel it. I’m proud of all of you. You all did a bang-up job on these projects. Now then, having said that, how about I discuss a few boring financials regarding the albums?”

A good-natured groan erupted.

“Oh, come now,” Jake chided. “I think some of you will find this a very interesting topic.” His eyes flitted to Greg and then Pauline, the two people who did not find what he was about to say interesting, and had, in fact, argued strenuously with Jake and Celia about implementing either all or part of it. Jake and Celia had won.

“Let me address the mothers first,” Jake said. “Mom, Cindy, you two put down some incredible tracks for us during this process, working on both albums, on nearly every cut, and without you we would not have been able to get this thing off the ground, let alone make it the success I know it is going to be.”

“Hear, hear!” said Tom, who was working on his fourth glass of wine and feeling very festive.

“Right,” Jake said. “And through this all, neither one of you have accepted any compensation for your time. We tried to pay you what we were paying Laura and Ben and Ted and Phil, but you would not hear of it.”

“We’re your mothers,” Mary said indignantly. “We don’t charge for our time.”

“No, you did not charge for your time,” Jake agreed. “But Celia and I are going to see to it that you are compensated for your efforts.”

“Jake, that’s not necessary!” Cindy told him. “Bill, tell him that we don’t need money for what we did.”

“I cannot, in good faith, tell him that, mother,” Bill said. “He’s right. You two deserve to get paid for what you did and we are going to see that you do.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“I’m talking royalties here,” Jake said. “You, Mom, and you, Cindy, are both going to collect one percent royalties on each of these albums, in perpetuity, whether you like it or not.”

“One percent royalties?” Mary asked. “Jake, that’s absurd!”

“Oh, do you want more?” Jake asked playfully. “We can negotiate on that if you want, but I don’t know if we’re going to come up any further. You see, one percent of the wholesale rate of six dollars per CD—we’re not releasing on vinyl or cassette, as we’ve mentioned—works out to six cents for each unit sold. Now I know that doesn’t sound like a lot when you say it that way, but both Celia and I plan to go Platinum at least. That is one million units of each album sold, which means two million times six cents in your pockets if we just reach our minimum goal here. That works out to ... Bill, tell them what it works out to.”

“One hundred and twenty thousand dollars for each of you,” Bill said without the slightest hesitation, “assuming that both albums reach Platinum status. In actuality, I sincerely believe we will go far beyond Platinum with both, however.”

“We are not trying to get more,” Mary cried. “We’re trying to have you not give us anything at all!”

“No deal, Mom,” Jake said. “You’re taking the money, even if we have to go behind your back to give it to you.”

“You earned it, Mary,” Celia told her. “The albums are going to sell well because of what you and Cindy did. You deserve to share in the profits.”

“A hundred and twenty thousand dollars?” asked Stan, who was obviously warming to the idea.

“That’s a low-end figure,” Bill told his father. “It will likely be at least double that in the short term, and a number that defies current estimations in the long term.”

“Well...” Mary said slowly, obviously turning that figure around in her mind as well, “if you absolutely insist.”

“We absolutely insist,” said Pauline, who had been in favor of this part, just not the next part.

“Okay then,” Mary said. “Thank you, guys. You didn’t need to do this, but the money will come in handy.”

“Money always does,” said Greg, who had been opposed to both parts of Jake and Celia’s proposal. After all, if the mothers didn’t want the money, wasn’t that their right?

“You’re more than welcome,” Jake said. “And that brings me to our other musicians and singers here. Laura, Ted, the conspicuously absent Ben, and Phil. You guys were important to these projects as well, and your contributions also made them what they are going to be. Now, all of you were paid as we went along, and paid at a fair rate, right?”

“Hell to the yeah,” Ted said. “I made more on this gig than I would’ve made in three years as a medic.”

“And I surely didn’t mind giving up the singing waiter gig for this one,” Phil added. “It pays better and will look awesome on my resume.”

“I like to think it will,” Jake told him. “In any case, we, the owners of KVA, engaged in some discussion the other day regarding what kind of bonus we were going to give you all now that your parts in the projects are complete.”

“Bonuses?” Ted asked, liking the sound of that.

“It seemed like something we should do,” Jake said. “Bonuses weren’t in the contracts you signed with us, of course, but Celia and I both wanted to add a little kicker for you anyway. Ultimately, however, when we discussed the matter with Greg and Pauline, it was decided that we would not give you simple cash bonuses after all. Sorry about that, guys.”

Ted’s face fell. So did Phil’s. Laura tried to hold hers steady, but a frown crept onto her face anyway. Jake could almost read the thoughts in her head. Why the hell did you bring up bonuses if you aren’t going to give them to us?

Jake let them dangle for a few more seconds and then smiled. “Anyway,” he said. “It was eventually decided that, in lieu of cash bonuses, we just go ahead and dial you all in on the royalties as well, the rate and linkage to the albums being tied to your participation in each.”

“Royalties?” all three of them said in near unison. Royalties for session musicians were almost unheard of. But KVA Records was not the typical record company.

“Royalties,” Jake repeated. “Ben and Ted will each get a half percent tied to both albums, since they participated heavily in both. Laura, you’ll get a half percent of Celia’s album since you were heavily involved in that, but only an eighth of a percent from mine, since you only appear on one cut there. And Phil, you contributed backup singing to both albums, but played no instruments. It was decided that a quarter percent of each album is a fair bonus for you.”

The three of them looked at Jake, mouths agape for a moment.

Jake chuckled (while Greg and Pauline frowned). “Do you want Bill to do the math for you? He will, you know.”

“No no,” Laura said, shaking her head. “I’m just trying to process this.”

“Yeah,” Phil said. “I don’t know what to say, Jake.”

“Say thank you,” Obie advised them. “They didn’t have to do this. I sure as shit wouldn’t have.”

“Thank you!” they all gushed happily.

“Happy to do it,” Jake said, smiling. “Or ... at least most of us are. Pauline will have some contracts for you all to sign with your rates and all that. The most important thing to remember is that these royalties will be reported to the good folks at the IRS and the State of California Franchise Tax Board, but KVA will not be taking taxes out as your royalty checks are issued. Be sure to account for taxes or you’ll get hosed the next year.”

“I would recommend a good accountant,” Nerdly said.

“As would I,” Jake said. “Any questions?”

There were none.

That night, after dinner, Jake and Laura were in their bedroom putting the finishing touches on Laura’s packing. She, along with the rest of the not-needed-for-mixing crew, would be flying out on a chartered business jet at nine o’clock the next morning. She had her two saxophones packed neatly and securely in their cases and all but her toiletries, the clothes she would wear tomorrow, and the clothes she was wearing currently in her large suitcase.

“Looking forward to getting back in the classroom?” Jake asked her. Her leave of absence with the school district was now officially over. She was due back in her classroom on Monday morning, just five days from now.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m not looking forward to that at all.”

“Then don’t do it,” he told her.

“Don’t do it?” she asked. “Seriously? Just walk away from the teaching gig?”

“Why not?”

“Uh ... because I got a bunch of people—like my landlord, the bank that financed my car, and the bankers who issued my credit cards—who all prefer it when I pay them a certain amount of money each month.”

“You have enough banked from this gig, don’t you?” he asked. “That should carry you until you get a paying music gig. With those references from Nerdly and Celia and I, and with the Nerdlys using their pull down at National, that shouldn’t be too long.”

“I can’t rely on that, Jake,” she said. “Sure, I have a hefty chunk of change in the bank now, enough to pay off all of my credit card debt and still have enough to carry me for a while, but I can’t just quit my paying job. It would stress me out terribly not to have a source of income.”

Jake caressed the side of her face gently. He then kissed his finger and put it to her lips. “You’ll be fine, Laura,” he told her. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

She smiled at his touch, at his gesture. “I wish I could be as confident in me as you are.”

“I wish you could too,” he said.

She looked at him for a moment, melancholy in her eyes, a little bit of fear as well. “Jake,” she said. “I know we’ve never really talked about ... oh ... you know ... where this thing between you and I is heading.”

“This thing between you and I?” he asked, raising his eyebrows a bit.

“Our relationship,” she said. “I’ve had a great time with you these last few months, the best time I’ve ever had in my life, as a matter of fact.”

“I’ve enjoyed our time together as well,” he said.

“But ... but now I’m going home,” she said. “And you’re staying here.”

He nodded. “For a few months at the most,” he said. “I’m still hoping we can get masters in hand before May, and CDs on the shelves by July.”

She rubbed at her eye a little bit. “What’s ... what’s going to happen to us once I go home?”

“Well, I’m going to miss you,” he told her.

“And I’m going to miss you horribly,” she said. “But that’s not what I was talking about. What’s going to happen to ... to us? Is this our last night together? Are we ever going to ... you know ... be together again after this?”

Jake put his hands gently on her shoulders and moved her to the edge of the bed. He had her sit down. He then lifted her face to his, so he could see the tears forming in her eyes, could see the nervous angst in her expression. “You think I’m going to just drop you from my life because we’re going to be separated for a bit?” he asked.

“Uh ... well, I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I’m kind of new to this whole relationship thing. And you’re a rich rock star who can get any woman he wants, right?”

“Not any woman,” he said. “Just most of them.”

Her expression darkened.

“Just kidding, hon,” he said with a smile. He stood up and walked over to the dresser. He opened a drawer and pulled a small, black felt box out. He carried it back over to her. “I bought you a present the last time I was in Portland. I was going to give it to you right before you got on the plane, but I think I’ll go ahead and do it now.”

She eyed the box carefully. It was obviously a jewelry box of some sort. “What is it?” she asked carefully.

Again, he picked up on her thoughts. “Uh, it’s not an engagement ring,” he told her. “I wouldn’t presume to move that quickly in this thing, for a multitude of reasons. But it is something I think you’ll like, something I put some thought into.”

“Okay,” she said.

He opened the box and showed her what was inside. It was a pendant attached to a 14-karat gold chain. The pendant was a G-clef in 24-karat gold, surrounded by a silver heart studded with a half a carat worth of polished diamonds. It wasn’t the most expensive piece of jewelry Jake had ever bought for a woman, but it certainly wasn’t the cheapest either. It had set him back nearly four thousand dollars—enough to earn him a stern telephone lecture from Jill once the charge reached her.

“Oh my God, Jake,” Laura whispered as she looked at it. “It’s ... it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s for you,” he told her, pulling it out of the box and letting it dangle. “Can I put it on you?”

“Jake ... this looks really expensive.”

He shrugged. “I’m a rich rock star, remember? Now, are you going to let me put it on you? Because just having me leave it dangling here is going to get awkward in a minute.”

She looked up at him and smiled, remembering that those were very similar to the first words he had ever spoken to her, back when they’d first been introduced. The mood between them had been a bit different then. “Yes,” she said. “Please put it on me.”

He unclasped the tiny fastener with his fingernails and then leaned forward to put the chain around her slender neck. He then fumbled for a minute, trying to fasten it back together. At last, he accomplished his goal and took his hands away, letting it hang free. “You know the meaning of the G-clef, of course,” he told her. “It’s symbolic of our relationship as musicians, of what brought the two of us together.”

“I love it,” she said, lifting the pendant up so she could look at it.

“You’ll also notice there’s a heart there,” he said softly.

She looked up at him. “Yes,” she said. “I did notice that.”

“The heart is the symbol of love,” Jake said. “I didn’t choose that symbolism randomly, or on impulse.”

A nibble of the lip. “What ... what are you saying, Jake?”

“I’m saying that I love you, Laura,” he told her. He then said it again. “I love you.”

She looked at his face carefully, her green eyes looking for deceit there. There was none to be found. “You’re ... you’re serious?” she asked. “You’re not just fucking with me?”

“I’m not just fucking with you,” he assured her. “Although I was hoping to do that later.”

His joke went right over her head—either that or it wasn’t really that funny. She continued to stare at him while her face blushed bright red. A tear formed in her left eye and ran down her cheek.

“Are you okay, Laura?” he asked, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have told her that after all. It was true, he was in love with the petite red haired saxophonist, had been so for some time now, but ... was she in love with him? Had he just committed a romantic faux pas? Was she going to say something like, That’s very nice, Jake, but maybe you’ve been taking this relationship too seriously? I was just with you because you’re good at eating my pussy out.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I’m okay. I’m very okay. In fact ... I feel like I’m about to explode with emotion here.”

“In ... a good way?” he asked carefully.

She smiled, a genuine, heart warming Laura smile. “Yes, in a good way,” she said. “Nobody has ever told me that before—not in the romantic sense anyway. I’m afraid I’m a little flustered.”

He nodded, touching the side of her face. “You’re blushing like a red traffic light,” he told her.

“I can feel it,” she said. “Will you say it again, Jake?”

“I love you, Laura,” he told her. “I am experiencing romantic bonding with you on the biochemical level causing a state similar to obsessive-compulsive disorder.”

Her mouth gaped. “Huh?”

He chuckled. “Sorry, I lapsed into Nerdly speak there for a second. Maybe I’m a little flustered too. But I am love in with you.”

She took his hand in hers, her thumb caressing the back of his hand. “And I’m in love with you too, Jake,” she told him.

“Really?” he asked.

She nodded. “Really,” she said. “You’re all I think about these days. I just want to be with you all the time, and not just for ... you know ... the naked stuff ... although I really do like the naked stuff. Look at me, I’m still flustered.” She took a deep breath. “Anyway, I ... I love you.” She shook her head. “Wow. I’ve never said that to anyone either.”

Jake smiled. “I think you did a really good job of saying it,” he told her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking her in his arms. They held each other tightly for a moment and then they kissed, a soft, romantic kiss.

When it broke, Laura looked in his eyes. “Do you want to do some naked stuff now?”

“Always,” he assured her. “But before we do, I want to tell you the point of why I just professed my love to you.”

“There’s a point?”

“There’s a point,” he said. “I wanted to reassure you that when you go home tomorrow, I’m still going to be with you, in spirit and in soul if not in actuality. I am not going to find another woman while you’re gone. I’m not going to forget about you. This is not the end of our time together unless you want it to be.”

“I don’t want it to end,” she said.

“Neither do I,” he said.

They kissed again, this time with a little more passion. When it finally broke, both of them were breathing a little heavily.

“That’s it,” Laura said. “It’s naked time.”

“Agreed,” Jake said.

She paused in the unzipping of her pants. “I’m going to keep the necklace on while we fuck,” she said. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” he said, “but remember, we’re in love now. We don’t fuck anymore. We make love.”

She looked at him for a moment and then shook her head. “No,” she said. “I think we should still fuck. I like to fuck.”

Jake grinned. “Fair enough,” he told her and then began removing his own clothes. “Let’s fuck.”

They fucked, and it was very good, because they fucked like two people who knew they were in love.

The Citation business jet took off from North Bend Municipal and landed a little less than an hour later at Heritage Muni to drop off the parental Archers and the parental Kingsleys. Twenty minutes later, it was back in the air, where it flew for another seventy-three minutes before landing at Van Nuys—its home base. There, Ted, Phil, Greg, Pauline and Laura disembarked. A few hugs were exchanged—again, Laura thought it was very surreal to be hugging Greg Oldfellow just like he was a normal person—and then they went their separate ways, heading for their respective homes.

In the case of Phil and Laura, it was the same home. They called a cab and split the cost of it. The cabbie dropped them off twenty-five minutes later and they dragged all of their luggage up the stairs, piece by piece.

The apartment was musty and a little warm, since the AC had not been running, but it was clean.

“I gotta tell you again, Laura,” Phil said as he tossed his suitcase into his room. “Thank you for getting me that gig. I feel like the king of the world.”

“The king of the world?”

“Hell to the yeah,” he said, and then winced. “Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, because of that gig, my bank account is full and my credit card balances are not. I just got to fly private in a business jet. I have been hanging out with Jake Kingsley and Greg Oldfellow for the past two months. Most important, I really think that gig is going to help my career take off. I have credits on a Jake Kingsley and a Celia Valdez album. I have recommendations from them! No more singing in a goddamn restaurant for me. I’m going big time. I can feel it!”

“I think maybe you will,” she told him, happy for his enthusiasm. “And you’re very welcome. You did me proud, by the way. You sang your little gay ass off.”

“I did,” he said. “And speaking of my little gay ass, it needs some companionship of the non-heterosexual type. I’m gonna catch a little nap and then I’m going to the club. And I’m not coming back until I have put my dick somewhere that Jerry Falwell would not approve of.”

Laura gave him a nod. “That shouldn’t be very hard to do,” she said.

Phil disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Laura finished dragging her luggage into her own room and then looked at the suitcase blankly. She really did not feel like unpacking right now. She and Jake had been up late last night, doing naked things until well after midnight, and she had gotten up early and then spent the day traveling. She was tired. A nap actually sounded like a good idea. True, she would have to sleep alone for the first time in months, but that was something she was going to have to learn to deal with.

She turned to the bed, which was neatly made, just as she’d left it back when she’d come home in the hopes of going to Palm Springs with Dave. It was then that she noticed the envelope. It was leaning against one of her pillows and had her name written on the front. She knew immediately who it was from. She recognized the crappy handwriting, for one thing, but even if she had not, there was only one person it could have come from.

He was in my apartment! she thought, feeling a sense of violation and outrage. I told that asshole that we were through, and he came into my apartment while Phil and I were in Oregon!

Although, a part of her had to admit, Dave hadn’t really listened to what she had been saying when she’d called him up that fateful day—the day after she’d first slept with Jake—to tell him that they were through. He had been more concerned with the fact that she had called him at work—the only place she could get hold of him since he had never given her his home phone number (oh my God, how stupid I was then, a part of her cried now, as she thought about this).

The conversation had gone something like:

“Dave, I need to tell you something.”

“Jesus Christ, Laura, you called me at work! You know how that gets people talking!”

“Well, they’re not going to talk anymore. We’re through.”

“We’re through with what?”

“We’re through with us. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Laura, I don’t have time to deal with this right now. I’ve got two patients in the chair and a receptionist who is giving me dirty looks. The next time you’re home, we’ll sit down and talk about whatever has got a bee in your bonnet.”

“There’s no bee in my bonnet, Dave. We’re through. I’m seeing...”

“I can’t talk anymore. Let me know when you’re back!”

“Dave, I need to...”

“Gotta go. Bye, Laura.”

And then had come the click of a broken phone connection. And though she had tried calling back several times, she was always told that Dr. Dave was busy, or was not in the office, or was on his lunch break. There had been no closure of the relationship. He didn’t even know that she was now letting Jake into her precious fire. She really wanted him to know that!

She reached down and picked up the envelope. She opened the flap and pulled out a piece of lined paper. She read.

Laura,

I haven’t heard from you in a while and I really miss our fire sessions, if you know what I mean. You seemed a little emotional the last time we talked and I hope you’ve gotten over whatever that was about. Anyway, I can’t wait until you come home and we’re able to pick up where we left off. Call me at the office during a lunch hour when you get back. Tell Alisa that you’re Mrs. Carmello calling about a problem with her son, and I’ll know it’s you so we can talk. Waiting to get back into the fire,

Dr. D

“Asshole,” she spat, then looked at the time. It was 12:55. It was still lunch hour. She smiled and picked up the phone extension. She dialed the number from memory. It was picked up on the second ring.

“Pasadena Dental,” a bright voice chirped. She recognized it as Alisa, the primary receptionist.

“Hi, Alisa,” Laura told her. “This is Laura Best. Dave told me to call him and tell you that I’m Mrs. Carmello, calling about a problem with her son. Will you be a dear and tell him that?”

A long pause, and then, “Uh ... okay. I’ll tell him.”

There was a click and then the on-hold music started up. With a smile she realized it was the Muzak version of Already Gone, by the Eagles, a song on one of the albums that Jake had introduced to her during their challenge, one of the albums she had actually quite enjoyed after listening to it for a week. The Eagles certainly did a better job of it than the Muzak folks, but the theme of the tune was quite relevant.

The music cut off and Dave’s voice was suddenly on the line. It was not a happy voice. “Red?”

“Hello, Dave,” she said. “Nice of you to take my call.”

“Are you crazy?” he demanded. “Did you actually tell Alisa that you were Laura Best, and that you were supposed to say you were Mrs. Carmello?”

“Wasn’t that what your note said?” she asked sweetly.

“NO, you stupid twit! The whole idea was that you were not supposed to tell her who you were! Jesus Christ! Are you trying to let everyone know about the two of us? Don’t you know how much this could complicate my divorce later on?”

“There is only one thing I’m trying to do here, Dave,” she told him. “I’m trying to tell you, unequivocally, that you and I are through. We will not be seeing each other anymore. You are not to come to my apartment anymore. Please throw away the key you have and never come here again.”

A pause, and then, “Obviously you’re upset about something, Laura. I don’t really have time to analyze what it might be right now, but if you call me back tomorrow at lunch, or, better yet, if I come over tomorrow...”

“I am not upset about anything, Dave,” she told him. “In fact, I am deliriously happy right now. You see, I’m seeing Jake Kingsley. We’ve been together since the night before I called you the last time. We are in love with each other and you and I are through. I just wanted to make sure you know that and understand that.”

“You’re talking crazy, Laura,” Dave said. “But, like I said, I don’t have time to discuss this any further right now. I’ve got patients in the chair waiting for me. Tomorrow, we’ll...”

“Do not come over here,” Laura said. “Throw away my key, Dave. I mean that!”

“We’ll talk,” Dave said. “Gotta go. Bye.”

“Dave! Listen, you asshole! You need to understand...”

But Dave was no longer there. She was talking to an empty phone.

“Shit!” she barked.

She had to go into the school where she taught the next day. There was paperwork to do, lesson plans to review, and several in-service presentations on new policies and procedures she had to complete before starting back to work on Monday. She had acquaintances at the school, but no real friends. Everyone knew she had been on a leave of absence to work on some sort of music project, but no one knew any of the details. She did not share any with anyone she ran into.

The only one who noticed anything was Jolene Fullar, the assistance principal, an up and comer in the district who gossiped about anything and everything she could and loved to brag about how much money her husband, the architect, made each year. She drove a Mercedes and was always dressed in expensive clothes. Nobody liked her, and Laura was no exception.

“Laura, dear,” she said, as Laura was packing up her things to leave just before noon. “Is that a new necklace you’re wearing?”

“Uh ... yes,” Laura said. “A little something I got up in Oregon.”

Jolene stepped closer, her eyes examining the jewelry closely. “It’s quite becoming,” she said, almost suspiciously. “Is it real?”

“Real?” Laura replied. “Do you suspect it’s a hologram?”

Jolene looked at her crossly and then shook her head. “No, I mean is it real gold? Are those real diamonds?”

“Yes,” Laura said. “It’s real.”

“Impressive,” Jolene said, actually reaching out and touching it. Laura was too surprised by her boldness to back away. “Something like this must have cost a few thousand dollars at least.”

“At least,” Laura agreed.

“It’s quite a gift,” Jolene told her. “Or did you buy it yourself?”

“It’s a gift from a friend,” Laura told her.

“I see,” Jolene said. “A diamond studded heart around that music thingy. This must be quite a friend.”

Laura smiled. “You could say that,” she said. “Is there anything else, Jolene?”

“Uh ... no, I think you’re ready to come back on Monday ... as ready as you’re going to be anyway. I hope you realize how fortunate you are that the board elected to grant your leave of absence. They didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know,” she said simply.

“I was opposed to it, of course. We had the hardest time keeping your slot filled with subs.”

“Somehow you got by though, right?”

“Well ... yes, we did,” Jolene said, taken aback. She was not used to the mousy redhead speaking so plainly to her.

“Now then,” Laura said. “I’ll be on my way.”

“This man who bought you the necklace...” Jolene started again.

Laura turned and smiled sweetly at her. “Who said it was a man?” she asked.

While Jolene tried to process that through her shock, Laura turned and walked out the door. Twenty seconds later, she in the parking lot and unlocking her six-year-old Toyota Corolla, feeling absurdly proud of herself. She had never talked back to Jolene—that gossipy, power hungry bitch—in that manner before. Now, however, she just didn’t care. What was the worst she could do to her? Not like her? She already didn’t like her. It wasn’t like she could fire her for not telling her who had given her a piece of jewelry.

She drove home in the late morning traffic, pondering the newer, more aggressive, more self-assured her. Jake really had changed something in her. And it was a change for the better. It was sad that she couldn’t see him every day like she used to, however. She was accustomed to having a couple of orgasms a day now. What was she going to do without the naked games they played? How was she going to get by? How was Jake going to get by?

I could use a little orgasm right now, she thought sadly as she pulled her car into her designated parking spot. Maybe I could do a little experimentation with my fingers? She had tried masturbation a few times in her younger years, but had never quite gotten the hang of it. Maybe it was time to revisit that subject? Now that she knew orgasms really did exist after all, she could probably figure out the procedure.

She was already starting to juice up at the thought of the coming experiment when she put her key in the door and opened it. She closed and locked it behind her and tossed her folder full of official district papers that she had no intention of reading onto the end table near her favorite spot on the couch. She would let it sit there, unopened for a few days, and then toss it in the garbage can.

She headed toward her bedroom but paused for a moment when she saw that the door was closed. That was odd. She typically left it open when she wasn’t in there. She looked around at the rest of the apartment, seeing that Phil’s door was closed as well, but that was not unusual. He was a bit on the messy side—she often told him that he was the worst gay man ever since he had no fashion sense, no decorating sense, and was a slob—and keeping the room shut off kept her from complaining about it to him. She didn’t even know if Phil was here, hadn’t noticed whether his car was present when she’d parked.

A little confused, but not alarmed in the least, she continued her trip to her bedroom. She had probably closed it absentmindedly as she’d left. It was not exactly an unheard of thing, just a bit unusual. And she really couldn’t remember one way or the other if she’d shut it or not.

She turned the handle and opened the door. And there, laying on her bed as if he owned it, dressed in his red scrub bottoms and green scrub top, was Dave. He was smiling at her salaciously.

“I was hoping you’d get home before lunch hour was over,” he told her.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” she spat, unconsciously using one of Jake’s favorite expressions. “I told you not to come to my house anymore, Dave. What in the hell are you doing here?”

“You were obviously not in your right mind, Red,” he said. “I could tell that just by talking to you.”

“Out!” she yelled, standing back and pointing in the direction of the front door. “Get the hell out of here! And leave the goddamn key when you go. We are through! What in the hell did you not understand about that?”

“Look ... you’re upset,” Dave said, pulling himself into a sitting position. He patted the bed next to him. “Come over here and we’ll talk about it.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” she told him firmly. “We are no longer seeing each other. I am seeing Jake Kingsley now. We’re a couple.”

“Jake Kingsley?” he asked. “I seem to remember you saying that yesterday too. Who the hell is Jake Kingsley? You don’t mean that death metal guy, do you?”

“He’s the one,” she said. “He’s part of the record company that Celia is with. He’s doing his own solo album and he played guitar on most of Celia’s tunes.”

“You never told me about that!” Dave accused.

“No,” she said firmly. “I didn’t. I was under the impression you would take it the wrong way.” She giggled a little. “Although, as it turns out, you would have been taking it the right way. We’re involved with each other now.”

“Involved?”

“We fuck, Dave!” she said, almost viciously, her tone intended to hurt. “And we fuck very well together.”

“You’re telling me that you went to Oregon with this ... this freak you never told me about, and you’ve been having sex with him?” he asked.

“He is not a freak!” she barked. “He is a kind, loving man who just happens to not have a wife, if you can imagine that. He is the most honest person I’ve ever met in my life, including my own fucking parents! And he is extremely good in bed.”

That hit Dave a little bit where it counted. “Well, I can see that you fell under his spell,” he said, shaking his head in pity. “I can see how someone as naïve and vulnerable as you would fall for whatever bullshit someone like that would throw at you.”

“The bullshit that he would throw at me?” she asked, feeling her face turning red, feeling her temper climbing into the danger zone. “You, who has been stringing me along for the past two years, actually have the balls to say something like that to me? Fuck you, Dave. It’s over and done. Now get the hell out of my apartment!”

Dave stood up and, for a moment, she thought he was actually going to do what she said. But then he shook his head. “I can’t do that, Laura,” he told her. “Not until we talk this thing out and make things right.”

“There is no right with you!” she said. “There is nothing more to talk about! I’m with Jake now. Now go home to your wife!”

“How long do you really think this Jake character is going to be with you? He’s a rich and famous rock star. Do you really believe he’s going to stay with you? That he’s going to stay faithful to you even if he does?”

“That is not any of your business. Nothing I do is any of your business anymore. Get out, Dave. I mean it.”

Dave walked over to her. “I don’t think you do mean it,” he whispered to her. He put his hands on her shoulders.

She angrily shook them off, spinning out of his grasp. In doing so, however, she put Dave between herself and the door. That was when the anger started to give way to fear. Though she was fifteen years younger than Dave, he outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds. “Dave,” she said slowly. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Get out.”

He shook his head. “I came over here to have a little lunchtime fun with my fiancé,” he told her. “I’m not leaving until I’ve done that.”

“No,” she said, backing slowly away.

“Yes,” he said, advancing toward her.

The back of her legs fetched up against the foot of the bed. She had run out of room to back up. His hands came down on her shoulders again, this time gripping them, making it hard for her to twist away.

“Get your hands off of me!” she yelled, approaching terror now.

“Let’s get that shirt off of you,” he said with a grin. “Let me at those little titties of yours. I’ve missed them.”

“PHIL!” Laura screamed as loud as she could. “I need some help in here! Get in here!” Oh God, please let Phil be home.

“Stop acting like you don’t want it,” Dave told her. “You know that nobody can burn in your fire like I can.”

“PHIL!” she screamed again, still trying to twist out of his grip. “For God’s sake, Phil! Help me!”

And then she heard the most blessed sound of her life: Phil’s bedroom door slamming open. “Laura?” his voice called out.

“In here!” she yelled. “This asshole is trying to rape me!”

“What?” he barked. She heard his footfalls pounding rapidly on the floor.

“Rape?” Dave said, still holding onto her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Laura! My god, you are so overdramatic.”

Phil rushed into the room, his hair in disarray, wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with characters from The Little Mermaid on them. His face was alarmed at first, then turned quickly to anger as he saw who Laura’s assailant was.

“Get your hands off of her!” Phil yelled at the dentist.

“Look, Phil,” Dave told him, trying to make his voice sound reasonable. “Laura and I were just having a little discussion. Nobody’s trying to rape anybody here. She’s my fiancé, for Christ’s sake.”

“She is not your fiancé,” Phil said through gritted teeth. “And I’m only going to say this one more time. Get your fucking hands off of her. NOW!”

Dave released his grip on her, putting the hands up in appeasement. Laura immediately rushed around him and threw herself into Phil’s arms, the adrenaline and relief now surging through her, making her tremble. Phil put his arms around her protectively.

“Holy shit, Phil,” Laura breathed. “Thank God you were home!”

“Look,” Dave said, his hands still up in the air. “I can see there is some sort of misunderstanding going on here.”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Laura yelled at him, tears running down her face now. Tears of shame, of fear, of relief.

“I think you’d better leave, Dave,” Phil told him. “Right now.”

“I’m not leaving until Laura and I...”

“I’m going to count to three,” Phil interrupted, “and if you’re not moving toward that front door by that point, I am going to start using physical violence on you to compel you to leave.”

Dave took an angry step toward him. “You listen to me, you little fudge-packing faggot,” he said, pointing a finger at Phil’s chest. “I don’t know who you think you are, but...”

“All right,” Phil said. “You just lost your three-count.” He gently moved Laura to one side and then took a step toward Dave, throwing a left jab at him from the shoulder, just as he’d been taught by his boxing instructor in high school. Phil had not really been interested in boxing back then—his motivation had been to hang out in a gym with a bunch of sexy, shirtless, sweaty guys—but the lessons had taken, nonetheless. His fist connected with the right side of Dave’s face, making a resounding smack that echoed off the walls. Dave’s head snapped backward, instantly shutting his mouth. He staggered backward a few steps and then fell to his butt on the floor.

“You fucking faggot!” Dave screamed at him, outraged. “How dare you put your dick stroking hands on me!”

“I’m going to put them on your again if you don’t get up and walk out that door right now,” Phil told him.

“You assaulted me! Laura, call the cops on him! I’m pressing charges!”

Laura looked at him in disbelief. “Call the cops on him?” she asked, and then used another Jake-ism she’d picked up along the way. “What fucking world do you live in?”

“I want him in jail!” Dave said.

“Maybe we should call the cops, Laura,” Phil suggested. “I think they’d find the circumstances here very interesting indeed.”

“What are you talking about?” Dave asked.

“You were trying to rape me, you asshole!” Laura screamed.

“I was not trying to rape anyone!” Dave insisted. “Laura and I are in a sexual relationship with each other. We have been for more than a year! Trying to have sex with her is not rape!”

“You have an interesting definition of rape,” Phil said. “I’m pretty sure the cops won’t agree with it, however, especially since Laura broke up with you weeks ago.”

“And especially since you came into my apartment without permission, after you’d already been told several times not to come here, and especially since I’m pretty sure you left bruises on my shoulders when you grabbed me.”

“I ... well ... I wasn’t ... I mean, how was I supposed to take you seriously?” Dave asked her. “Look, things got a little out of control here.”

“And they’re about to get more out of control if you don’t get your ass off that floor and out of this house,” Phil said. “I’m going to start that three count again. If you’re not moving by then, I’ll blacken your other eye and then drag your ass out of here myself.”

This time Dave took him seriously. He slowly got to his feet and walked through the doorway, back into the living room. He trudged toward the door. He turned back once more. “Laura,” he said. “We can work this out. Won’t you please let me...”

“Out, Dave,” she said firmly, still tremoring with adrenaline. “Never come back here again.”

“And leave that key on the end table,” Phil told him.

He dug in his pocket and pulled out the key. He dropped it where told. “This isn’t over,” he said. “I’m not letting you go this easily.”

“You call this fucking easy?” Phil asked.

“We’re meant to be together, Laura,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“No, you won’t,” Laura said. “Never come back here again, never contact me again. We are through, Dave. Completely and irrevocably through. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He turned and opened the door. Just before he stepped through, they heard him mutter, “I’ll be back. You’ll see.”

Phil shut the door once he was through it. He engaged the lock. The two of them then went to the blinds and peered out to make sure he was really leaving. He was. They watched as he staggered down the stairs and out of sight around the corner of the building.

The moment they pulled their faces from the blinds, Laura’s emotions overtopped their dam and she burst into tears. Phil took her in his arms again, hugging her face to his chest, running his hands over her back, comforting her.

“Oh my God, Phil!” she sobbed. “He was really going to do it! He was going to rape me! He as much as said that!”

“I know, hon,” Phil said. “He’s a scumbag, but he didn’t rape you. I stopped him.”

“What if you hadn’t been here?” she cried. “I don’t know if I could’ve fought him off!”

He ran his hand through her hair a few times. “I think maybe you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” he said. “One kick to the balls and he would’ve been out of the game. And even if not, if you’d kept screaming like that, one of the neighbors would’ve called the cops.”

“Still ... he was going to do it!” Another round of sobs.

“But he didn’t, hon,” Phil told her again. “It’s over now.”

“Is it?” she asked. “He said he was going to be back.”

“He doesn’t have a key anymore,” Phil said.

“How do I know that?” she asked. “How do you? How do we know he hasn’t made a duplicate key at some point?”

“Well ... we don’t,” Phil said, “but I’ll call a locksmith and get the locks changed.”

“We can’t do that!” she said. “It’s against the rules of our lease!”

“I’m sure the landlord will understand under the circumstances,” Phil said.

Laura was shaking her head. “But what if he waits outside for me? What if he comes to my work and catches me while I’m leaving? Jesus fucking Christ, Phil. I can’t live like this!”

“What are you saying?” Phil asked. “You want to move out of here?”

“I need to do something,” she said. She released her grip on Phil and looked up at him. “I’m going to call Jake. He’ll know what to do.”

Phil nodded. He suspected that Laura was right.

Jake was watching a rerun of MAS*H on the television—the one where Hawkeye and Trapper try to acquire an incubator for the unit—when the phone rang. The Nerdlys were, as usual, at the computer doing mysterious things on CompuServe. Celia was in the kitchen, puttering around and making some sort of snack. No one made any move to get the phone so Jake, with a sigh, stood and walked over to it.

“Yeah?” he asked, wondering who in the hell would be calling them now.

“Jake?” a tiny, hesitant voice enquired.

“Laura?” he asked, feeling a little sense of dread worming into him. It was definitely Laura’s voice, but it sounded so un-Laura like.

“It’s me,” she confirmed.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “You don’t sound good.”

“I’m ... I’m really not good right now,” she said.

That worm of dread grew stronger. Was she breaking up with him? Why would she do that? She’d been home less than forty-eight hours, for God’s sake! What could have possibly happened? Had she thought things over and decided it was a bad idea. “What’s going on, hon?” he asked.

“Something ... something just happened to me.”

“What happened?” he asked, his voice loud enough and alarmed enough to attract the attention of both the Nerdlys and Celia.

She told him the story, her voice halting at first, but gaining power and anger as the tale unfolded. Jake’s sense of worry about their relationship faded out and was replaced with a black anger of his own. That motherfucker! he thought, his fist gripping the handset tightly. He came into her apartment and tried to rape her? Fucking rape my girlfriend? That shit was not going to stand!

She told of how Phil had intervened in the attack, stopping it and blackening the asshole dentist’s eye in the process. Way to go, Phil! he thought happily. It’s a pity I’m not gay or I’d suck your dick for that. She also told of Dave’s final words as he’d left—about how he would be back.

“What do I do, Jake?” Laura asked. “I don’t feel safe anymore, especially not here, in my apartment. I mean, Phil’s already called a locksmith to come and change the locks, but that doesn’t mean much. If he wants to get in here, he will. And even if he doesn’t get in here, he knows where I work, what time I go to work, what time I get off. I can’t live like this!”

“You’re not going to have to,” Jake assured her.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to take care of this for you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Go ahead and get the locks changed, but you’re not going to stay in that apartment anymore.”

“Where am I going to stay?”

“My place,” Jake said. “If I give you the address, will you be able to find it?”

“Uh ... well ... I think so. Phil is good with maps and he’ll be able to help me, but ... your place, Jake? Are you sure about this?”

“I am completely sure. As soon as I get off the phone with you, I’ll call Elsa—I told you about Elsa, right?”

“Your housekeeper,” Laura said. “You told me about her. Will she mind having me come to stay there?”

“She will not mind, and even if she did, that doesn’t matter. I’m her boss. She’s been freeloading these past five months anyway since I haven’t been staying there. It’s about time she did some goddamn work. Anyway, I’ll tell her you’re on the way. I’ll have her put you up in the master bedroom where I sleep. She’ll give you a key to the house, the alarm codes, and she’ll cook and clean for you while you’re there.”

“Cook and clean for me?” Laura asked. “I can’t ask her to do that!”

“She’ll do your laundry too. It’s her job, Laura. I pay her more than thirty grand a year for that shit. Besides, she going to love you, and you’re going to love her.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked.

“I know so,” he assured her. “Now I don’t want to hear any more argument about this. You’re going there.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Thanks, Jake.”

“No need to thank me,” he said.

“But what about when I’m at work?” she asked.

“I’m going to make sure your dentist doesn’t bother you anymore.”

“How are you going to do that?” she asked, perhaps a little nervously.

“He and I are going to have a talk.”

“A talk? When? Where? What do you mean?”

Jake looked up at the clock on the wall. It was now 12:30. “Today,” he said.

“You’re going to call him?”

“No,” Jake said. “I’m not going to call him. You told me at one point he closes up the practice around five-thirty, right?”

“Right,” she said slowly.

“Then shortly after that moment in time, we will have our talk.”

“You’re going to fly down here?” she asked incredulously.

“You bet your ass I’m going to fly down there. I’ve found that shit like this is best handled immediately.”

“Wow,” she said. And then, “You’re not going to ... you know ... hurt him or anything, are you?”

“Probably not,” Jake said.

“Probably not?”

“Best I can promise,” he said.

“Jake ... don’t get into trouble over this,” she said. “It’s not worth it.”

“I can promise I won’t get into trouble over this.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said. “Now, do you have a pen and paper to write down my address with?”

“Uh ... sure.”

He recited it to her and then had her read it back to him. “If you have any trouble finding it, call back here and Nerdly can help you. I’m going to call Elsa and then I’ll be on my way to the airport and out of communication until I get back on the ground. Don’t linger in the apartment. Pack what you need and get over to my place as soon as you can.”

“I will, Jake,” she said. “And you be careful.”

“I always am,” he assured her. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay ... I ... I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too,” he said. “And don’t worry too much. Things are going to be okay.”

He hung up the phone and looked at the Nerdlys and Celia, who were all staring at him, various versions of alarm and concern on their faces. He could only imagine what they were thinking from having just heard his end of the conversation.

“Trouble with Laura?” Celia asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Her dentist apparently didn’t take the breakup very seriously. He was waiting for her in her apartment after she got home from a school meeting. He tried to ... to rape her.”

“Madres de Dios!” Celia exclaimed. “Is she all right?”

“She’s physically fine,” Jake said. “He didn’t get very far in his attempt thanks to Phil, who did a little ass-kicking on her behalf.”

“Thank God,” Sharon said.

“Thank Phil,” Jake corrected. “Anyway, she’s kind of rattled, so, as you undoubtedly heard, I’m having her go to my place to stay for now.”

“A wise move,” Nerdly said approvingly.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “And I know we’re planning to dive into the mixing tomorrow, but I’m gonna have to take a sick day for that. I need to fly home right now and deal with this guy so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Jake?” Celia asked.

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had in quite some time,” he said.

“Do you plan to pursue a course of violent intimidation against him?” Nerdly asked. “If so, I must ask you if you’ve considered the ramifications of such an endeavor.”

“I don’t think I’ll need to resort to violence,” Jake assured them. “I’m just going to have a little talk with him, but I need to roll now if I’m going to make it to LA in time to have that discussion today.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Celia asked him.

“I am sure,” Jake said. “Now let me call Elsa and then I gotta roll.”

Jake drove quickly and almost recklessly to the airport, arriving there at 12:55. He hurriedly filed an IFR flight plan and then made a phone call to the limousine service, asking them to have a car and driver at Santa Monica Airport when he landed. They promised they would. After that, he called Pauline. He briefly explained the situation to her and asked her for a certain piece of information she’d dug up for Laura a few months back, when her dentist had refused to return her calls. She provided the information and then expressed the same concerns everyone else had expressed so far.

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

“Probably not,” he assured her.

“Jake, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“No? Well, I do. Anyway, I got to go, sis. Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“I certainly hope so,” she replied.

He then went out to the tarmac and had a fuel truck pump his tanks two-thirds full. That would be enough to get him all the way to Los Angeles with fuel to spare for emergencies, but would not be enough weight to slow him down, particularly with no passengers or luggage in the aircraft.

He forced himself to go through the preflight checks carefully, using his checklists and not cutting any corners. Finally, he taxied to the runway and lifted off into the overcast sky at 1:31 PM. His assigned altitude was nineteen thousand feet. It took him thirteen minutes to climb that high and then, once leveled out and on course, he did not retard the throttles as he usually did for cruise flight. Instead, he kept them at the climb-out level, so both engines were sitting just below the red line on the tachometers. His airspeed settled at 220 knots, about 260 miles per hour, fifty miles per hour or so faster than he normally cruised at. It was not the most fuel-efficient way to fly—in fact, it was sucking up that kerosene like no tomorrow—but with 812 air miles to fly, he would get there in time as long as nothing delayed him.

“Come on, baby,” he said softly, patting his control panel affectionately. “I got a dentist appointment I need to get to.”

Dr. David Boulder, DDS, was in a foul mood as he left the practice at 5:35 PM that day. His right eye was swollen and surrounded by a large purple bruise. It throbbed and he had a bit of trouble seeing out of it. He still could not believe that goddamn fudge packer had actually hit him. Of all the nerve! He still had half a mind to call the police and have him arrested. Only the thought that they might have to call or visit his house at some point for some sort of follow up and, as a remote consequence, his wife might find out the details of the assault, kept him from actually doing it.

It’s a good thing I’m good at coming up with cover stories, he thought as he walked out to his 1991 Dodge Ram four-wheel drive. The way everyone looked at me when I came back from lunch ... Jesus Christ, what a mess.

His cover story for them was an oldie but a goodie. “I was walking into the deli to get my sandwich and someone opened the door in front of me and it hit me in the face.” Simple, succinct, to the point. He was pretty sure everyone had bought it, which was a miracle in and of itself since that stupid twit piece on the side of his had actually told Alisa who she was when she’d called yesterday. What a dumb cunt! That had not been easy to explain, although he had managed to come up with something. “Laura Best is Mrs. Carmello’s niece,” he’d told Alisa. “She has kind of a strange sense of humor. I think she thought she was being funny.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Alisa had told him with a nod.

Thank God for dumb-ass receptionists. It seemed this whole Laura situation was still under control—at least as far as his wife or his colleagues and staff finding out about it. There was still the problem with Laura herself, of course. Had she seriously hooked up with Jake Kingsley, as she claimed, or was that just some sort of story she was making up for purposes of her own? He kind of suspected it was a story—probably to make him jealous, to try to push him into leaving Barbara and marrying her (like that was ever going to happen). Jake Kingsley could have any woman he wanted. Why would he go after the meek little redhead? Did she really even know Jake Kingsley? Was this whole thing with Celia Valdez a lie as well? When you thought about it, her getting a job playing her little saxophone for either one of them seemed kind of farfetched, didn’t it?

As he approached his huge pickup truck with the oversized tires and the lift kit—he had needed to have a stepping rail installed just so he could get into the thing—he noticed there was a limousine parked out near the back end of the professional complex his practice was located in. He glanced at it for a moment, thinking that its presence was a bit odd, and then dismissed it, his mind turning back to this little tiff he was having with Laura. Perhaps not calling her the entire time she was away had been a mistake? True, she was dumb as a rock and naïve as a seventeenth century pilgrim girl in modern New York City, but still ... everyone had their limits, he supposed. He might have crossed over hers just a bit. That was undoubtedly what had led to this whole we’re through fit she seemed to be in the midst of. He just needed to let her cool off for a few more days—the amount of time it took for his eye to heal, perhaps—and then he would go back over to her apartment on one of his lunch breaks and smooth talk her a little, put on the bullshit extra thick.

Yeah, he thought, his mood already starting to improve. That’s the ticket. Dazzle her with some more smoke and mirrors, maybe get her some flowers or some shit like that, give her the usual bit about how he couldn’t stand living with Barbara any longer and was seriously considering just leaving now, before the kids were even out of school, and, before he went back to work that lunch period, he’d be dancing in the fire once again.

His thoughts were interrupted when he came around the Lexus that belonged to Dr. Carlisle. The view of the driver’s side of his monstrous truck was now open and he saw that a man was standing there next to his door. He was a tall man dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt that had a lighthouse on it. His brown hair was a little frazzled. He had a mustache that looked like it needed to be trimmed. And he was looking directly at Dave, his eyes full of what appeared to be anticipation and ... maybe recognition.

Dave slowed his advance, feeling a slight sensation of discomfort creeping into him. He had no idea who the man was, but he looked to be formidable, perhaps even a bit dangerous? And he was standing between Dave and his truck with no apparent business there. Dave almost turned and went back into the office to wait until the man left, but then chided himself for being a pussy. He was in a public place, for Christ’s sake. What could this man do to him?

He continued his approach.

“Howdy,” the man hailed as Dave came within six feet of him.

“Uh ... hello,” Dave returned.

“Is this your truck?” the man asked, turning his head briefly to look up and down the length of it.

“Yes,” Dave said, feeling a little relief. It was just another admirer of his wheels. Ever since he’d put in the lift kit and bought the oversized wheels and rims, people often stopped him to talk about them. “That’s my baby.”

The man turned back to look at him. “Really nice truck, my man,” he told him. “Sorry about the dick though.”

Dave stopped, feeling himself flush. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“The dick,” the man said. “Obviously it’s not a very formidable one or you wouldn’t have to attempt a pathetic compensation for its inadequacy by buying and equipping a form of commuter transport that is more suitable to Papua New Guinea jungles than suburban Los Angeles.”

“What?” Dave asked, stunned and a little angry.

“Sorry,” the man said with a light chuckle. “I went a little Nerdly on you there for a minute.” He shrugged. “Sometimes that happens and I don’t even realize it. What I was trying to say was that it seems pretty obvious to the thinking person that the size of your truck and the manner in which you display it can only be inversely proportional to the size of your member. I mean, you went to college and shit, right? Somewhere in all that education, you had to have taken a psych class or two.”

Dave was now feeling a mix of emotions. Anger, confusion, shame—this last particularly poignant because he knew that his weapon really wasn’t all that formidable, at least not to the eye—although Laura always seemed to like it, even if Barbara had never really been impressed and had even made fun of it on more than one occasion. But to suggest that the size of his truck had anything to do with that ... that was asinine! And who the hell was this guy anyway? What was this shit?

“Look, partner,” Dave told the stranger. “I’m just trying to get home after a hard day at work. If you’ll just step aside so I can...”

“I mean, really, dude,” the man interrupted, as if he had not even heard him. “How can you claim this truck is anything other than a compensatory mechanism for a tiny dick? What is the name of this truck? It’s a fucking Ram Big Horn. Seriously, could they have come up with anything more phallic than that without obscenity charges? I would be willing to bet that when the suits got together to design your truck and then had the meeting about what to name it, they actually had a discussion about how it would sell really well with guys with small dicks.”

Dave’s anger broke—at least as far as his anger was capable of breaking when talking to someone who could probably kick his ass if he wanted. “Now you listen here,” he said sternly, pointing his finger at his tormentor. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll have you know that my cock is quite large, large enough that I actually considered a career as a male pornography performer to get me through college.”

“Is that a fact?” the man asked him.

“That is a fact!” Dave said.

The man nodded his head up and down a few times, as if considering this information, and then suddenly shook it back and forth. “Sorry, my man,” he said. “I’m going to have to call bullshit on that. You see, I happen to know just what the size of your dick actually is.”

“Excuse me?” Dave repeated, flushing again, so angry now that he was almost ready to fight the man.

“Yeah,” the man said with a smile. “You see, Laura told me all about it.”

Dave felt that surge of dread again. “Laura?” he said slowly.

“Laura Best,” the man said. “She and I are, shall we say, acquainted with each other. Intimately acquainted.”

Dave looked at the man’s face again. This couldn’t be ... No! It looked nothing like him ... well, except maybe for ... No! He shook his head. And then his eyes dropped down to the man’s t-shirt again, the shirt that had a picture of a lighthouse on it. COOS BAY, OREGON, read the motto. THE REAL BAY AREA!

Coos Bay? That was where Laura had been these past months. Where she claimed she had been recording an album with Celia Valdez. Where, just today, she had claimed she had been sleeping with... “Jake Kingsley?” he asked.

Kingsley smiled. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Dave,” he said, stepping closer. “I think you and I need to have a little talk.”

“Now wait a minute,” the little weasel of a dentist protested. “You’re claiming that you are Jake Kingsley, the singer?”

Jake smiled. He was immensely enjoying this confrontation and could not wait to see where it led. “I could show you my identification if that would help,” he suggested.

“Your ... identification?”

“Or maybe I could just sing something for you?” He then belted out the primary chorus of Point of Futility, the song he could be pretty certain the dentist had to have heard multiple times before and would recognize since it was Intemperance’s most mainstream hit. He sang it out a-capella, but with all the tonal inflection he would have used had he been singing it into a microphone before an audience. The fact that it was a song about realizing when your relationship was over was perhaps an added bonus.

The dentist’s eyes widened as he heard this. “You ... you are Jake Kingsley,” he whispered, partially in awe, partially in shock.

“One and the same,” Jake told him. “Now then, going back to the subject of dicks. I must confess that I’m not the most well-hung specimen on the face of the Earth myself. I’m kind of average in member size, perhaps a tiny bit above. Like any guy, I’ve actually measured my shit before and I’m hanging at just a tad over six inches.” He shrugged. “Not exactly porn movie material, I’ll admit, but I get the job done—and trust me on this, I’ve done a lot of jobs in my time. Anyway, you want to know what Laura said to me the first time she ever put her hand on my Johnson?”

“I see no point to this conversation,” Dr. Dave said through gritted teeth.

“She said, and I quote: ‘It’s soooo big!’ But it really isn’t, just average. Now why do you suppose she would think that my manhood is so huge unless she was used to something considerably less than average for comparison?”

“Look, Kingsley,” Dr. Dave said. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but...”

Jake took a step toward him, letting the amusement drain away from his face, putting a look of intimidation there instead. “You don’t know what I’m doing here?” he asked incredulously. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Uh ... no,” he said, taking a step backward. “I’m not ... uh ... not doing that.”

“Laura broke up with you, dude,” Jake said. “She told you this on the phone on several occasions. She told you not to contact her anymore, not to come to her house. She told you she was with me now. And, despite all this, you went to her house and went inside, uninvited, where she told you once again that she was done with you. And then you tried to rape her.”

“Rape her?” Dave said, shaking his head violently. “That is not what happened at all!”

“You put your fucking hands on her, asshole. You did not take your hands off of her when you were told to. You tried to rape her. And now you actually have to balls to say to me that you don’t know what I’m doing here?”

“Look now,” Dave said, trying to sound reasonable, putting his hands up in appeasement. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

“Well, Dr. Dave,” Jake told him, “that is what I am doing here. We are going to clear up any and all misunderstandings, right here and right now. You are going to stay away from Laura Best for the rest of your natural life. You will not call her. You will not go to her house. You will not go to the school where she works. You will make no contact of any kind with her at any point, ever again.”

“You have no right to tell me something like that!” the dentist barked at him, his face red.

Jake took an angry step forward. “I have every fucking right in the world to tell you something like that. Laura is with me now and she has expressed to me, in no uncertain terms, that she does not want to see you ever again. You will stay away from her or the consequences are going to be quite severe.”

“You’re threatening me?” he asked, trying to sound tough.

“Hell to the yeah I’m threatening you,” Jake told him plainly. “Have you heard of a restraining order?”

“Laura would never put out a restraining order on me,” he scoffed.

“She already has,” Jake explained. “And I’m fucking serving that order on you right now, right here. It is not a restraining order issued by the court, however. It is a restraining order issued by me. It is not in writing. You just need to absorb the terms of it with your fucking ears. You will not come within two hundred yards of Laura Best, anyone she knows, anyone you might think she knows. You will not come within a mile of her place of work, of her home, of my home, of anyone’s home she might be visiting. You will not show up at any place that Laura Best is visiting or patronizing or doing anything else in. If you are in a public place and Laura Best just happens to coincidentally show up there, you will immediately leave that place without making any attempt to contact her or make eyes at her. In short, if you’re in the fucking coffee shop, minding your own business and Laura Best walks in, you will leave as quick as you can and get as far away as you can. If you’re about to give a speech before the fucking Nobel Prize committee in Stockholm because you’ve invented some new dentist shit and Laura Best pops up in the audience, you fucking leave right then. Am I making myself clear here, Dr. Dave?”

“You cannot dictate terms like that to me!” he said petulantly.

“I am dictating terms like that to you,” Jake told him. “And you will follow them, or I will find you. I know where you work, as is quite obvious by my presence here. I also know where you live.”

“You do not!” Dave spat. “My house is unlisted.”

“Two-nine-one-seven Morning Glory Lane,” Jake said, repeating the information that Pauline’s shady ‘associates’ had dug up and that Jake himself had memorized during the flight. “Nice neighborhood. Not as nice as mine, of course, but decent enough.”

This made an impression on the dentist. He paled a bit, but tried to keep up the tough façade. “So you know where I live,” he said. “What good does that do you?”

“It makes it easy to find you,” Jake told him. “And when I do find you, I will beat the living shit out of you. And that is only if you simply violate the proximity clause of this restraining order. If you actually talk to her or make any contact with her, I will put you in the fucking hospital.”

“And you would go to jail,” the dentist told him. “You’re not going to bluff me that easily, Kingsley. In fact, I have half a mind to simply call the police now and report this terroristic threat you’re trying to put on me.”

“You have half a mind all right,” Jake informed him. “Do you really think I give a flying fuck if I go to jail for beating your ass? Hell, I’ve been to jail numerous times for more serious shit than kicking the ass of some dentist. I’m a rich motherfucker, Dr. Dave, and I’m a celebrity on top of that. I have high-priced lawyers who get me out of any shit that I get myself into. Hell, I could beat you to within an inch of your life, leave you sitting in a hospital bed with broken bones everywhere and breathing through a tube in your neck, and I wouldn’t spend more than a day or two in the slam before they got me out of there.

“But you know what would happen if you decided to go down that road—other than the fact that you would be in the hospital sucking air through a trach tube? The press would be all over that shit. Not just those sleazy entertainment rags, but the mainstream press as well. It’s way too fucking juicy of a story for them to not cover it. Jake Kingsley beats some dentist’s ass and puts him in the hospital! The fucking headlines would be screaming that shit. And, of course, they would make me out to be the bad guy—they love to demonize me, sometimes quite literally—but they would also dig into you like a pig in a trough. They would dig into Laura as well. All the stinky details of your relationship with Laura would be on front page headlines in every newspaper in the nation, with pictures and everything.” He looked at the Dr. Dave pointedly. “What do you suppose your wife would think about all that?”

This actually made Dr. Dave turn a whiter shade of pale—as it were. He swallowed slowly. “Well now ... there is no real proof that Laura I were actually ... uh...”

Jake chuckled. “Proof?” he scoffed. “The press doesn’t need proof to print something. What fucking world do you live in? Is it warm there?”

“Uh ... well...”

“Look, doc,” Jake told him. “I’m a reasonable man, which is a good thing for you. If you’d a pulled this shit on Matt Tisdale, you’d probably be wrapped in chains and sinking to the bottom of the ocean off the deck of a fishing boat about now. I’m not like that, however. I just want to solve this particular problem, you dig?”

“Uh ... yeah, I think I dig,” Dave said slowly.

“Now I must admit, when I got that call from Laura and she told me what you’d done, I really wanted to do some serious physical violence to your person. I still do, really, to tell you the truth. But I can control my basic instincts in matters such as this, and I will continue to do so as long as I’m confident that you understand the terms of this restraining order I’ve just laid out for you. You come near Laura again, even accidentally, and I will put you in the hospital. If I put you in the hospital, everything about you and Laura is going to be printed in every newspaper in the country and your little wifey is going to know about where you’ve been putting that little dick of yours. If you abide by the terms of the restraining order, however, you go about your life, me and Laura go about ours, you stay out of the hospital, and no one knows about any of this shit. You’re free to go find yourself a new chick to put it in and pump a few times. Does this sound reasonable to you?”

Dave continued to stare at him for a few moments and then slowly nodded. “Yes,” he said softly.

“Yes what?” Jake asked.

“Yes, it sounds reasonable,” he said.

“Then you will abide by the terms of this restraining order?”

“Yes,” he said. “I will abide by it.”

Jake smiled. “All right then,” he said. “I guess I won’t be seeing you around then. You have a nice day, doc.”

And with that, Jake walked slowly back to the limousine, almost strolling.

He did not look back and Dr. Dave said nothing more.

It was just before 6:30 when the limousine dropped Jake off in front of his house. He tipped the driver fifty dollars, thanked him for his part in the mission, and then went to the front door. He had to ring the bell to get in because, in his haste to leave Coos Bay, he had not brought his keys with him.

Elsa opened the door. Her dark-skinned face showed a mixture of concern and relief as she saw him standing there. “It’s good to see you, Jake,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay,” he assured her, stepping in and giving her a hug. “How’s Laura?”

“She’s up in your bedroom,” she replied. “I made some dinner for her—my stuffed pork chops—but she didn’t eat much. She told me about her ordeal this afternoon. She seems very upset ... very worried.”

“She’s had quite a day,” Jake said, closing the front door behind him.

“It sounds as if she did,” Elsa said. “She seems a very nice girl, Jake.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” he agreed.

“I assume things are quite serious between the two of you?”

He nodded. “Quite serious.”

She smiled her smile of approval. She then turned her stern, motherly look upon him. “Do I need to expect a visit from any police officers?” she asked.

“No,” he told her. “I handled the situation without violence.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he assured her. “The doc and I had ourselves a nice little talk and we came to an agreement.”

“An agreement?”

“He stays away from Laura forever and, in return, he stays out of the hospital and out of the newspapers.”

“Are you sure he’ll abide by that deal?”

“I’m pretty sure he will,” Jake said. “He seemed more intimidated by the thought that his wife would find out about all of this than the thought that I might put him in traction.” A shrug. “Maybe he’s never been in traction before. Anyway, I think we’ve seen and heard the last of Dr. Dave.”

“If you say so,” Elsa said doubtfully. She hesitated for a moment and then said, “I mentioned this to Laura earlier, and she was quite opposed to the idea, but I must ask you now. Shouldn’t the police get involved anyway? He did attempt to force himself upon her if I understood her story correctly.”

“If she wants to get the cops involved, I will support that decision and stand by her, but if she doesn’t, I will do the same. In truth, involving the cops would accomplish little but getting bad publicity for everyone.”

“But it was attempted rape,” Elsa said.

“It’s hard for a woman to get any justice even when it’s a completed rape,” Jake said. “This would just be a convoluted mess. She has a previous sexual relationship with the perpetrator. He has had a long-standing open invitation to her apartment and a well-established pattern of coming over there at lunch for sex. She has nothing but her own word that she told him they were through and he should not come over to her house anymore. It’s your basic he-said/she-said situation through and through. It is very unlikely the investigating cops would consider it anything other than a domestic squabble that maybe turned a little violent, or maybe didn’t. I doubt they would even arrest him, but the word of the situation would make its way to the press and Laura would be dragged through the mud along with the good doctor and probably me and Phil as well.” He shook his head. “No, I think the way I handled the situation is probably the best for all concerned.”

She still looked doubtful. “If you say so, Jake.”

“I say so,” he said. “I’d better get up there and see her. Thanks for taking care of her, Elsa.”

“No need to thank me,” she said. “It will be nice to have someone in the house again to feed and look after.”

“Yep,” Jake said with a smile, pulling her into another hug. “Your free ride is over, Elsa.”

She laughed and returned the hug with considerable affection. “Never boring working for you, Jake,” she said, not for the first time and not for the last.

He headed for the stairs. Just before mounting them, he turned around again. “Are there any of those stuffed pork chops left?”

“There are,” she said. “I’ll heat a few up for you and then cook up some fresh spinach to go with them.”

“That would be awesome, Elsa. Thanks.”

She headed off to the kitchen and he went upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the door and found Laura sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. Her face, however, lit up when she saw him.

“Jake!” she cried, springing to her feet and rushing over to him. “Oh my God, I’m so glad it’s you!”

He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. She hugged back just as hard. “Were you expecting someone else?” he asked.

“I heard the doorbell ring a few minutes ago,” she said, still clinging to him, speaking into his neck. “I thought it might be ... you know ... the police.”

“Sting and the boys?” Jake asked. “Why would they be here?”

She broke the embrace and looked in his face. “What?” she asked, confused.

He chuckled a little. “Sorry,” he said. “Bad joke. Why would you think the cops were here?”

She shook her head a little. “Well ... I thought maybe they might be coming to say you were ... in jail or something.”

“Naw,” he scoffed. “It was just me ringing that bell. I’m a dumbass and forgot to bring my keys from Oregon so I had to have Elsa let me in. What do you think of Elsa?”

“Uh ... I like her,” Laura said. “She’s easy to talk to and very nice, but ... but ... what happened? Did you talk to Dave?”

“I talked to him,” Jake said.

“And?”

“And you don’t have to worry about Dr. Dave anymore. He will not bother you, me, or anyone we know any further.”

“He won’t?”

“He won’t,” Jake assured her.

“Well ... what did you say to him? How can you know he’s not going to bother me?”

“I laid out some plain facts for him and he agreed with my assessment of the situation.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means I told him that if he comes within two hundred yards of you ever again, even on accident, that I was going to find him and beat his ass. And if he ever contacted you, spoke to you, or, worst of all, touched you, I was going to put him in the hospital.”

She looked in his eyes as he said this. “You said that to him?”

“That was a paraphrase, of course. The actual conversation was a bit longer, but yes, I said that to him and I made him believe my words.”

“How did you do that?”

“It was easy,” he said. “My words were true. Truth conveys very well in situations such as this one and it’s a great motivator.”

She gave a little shudder. “You would really do that ... for me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I would really do that for you. I was not bullshitting the good doctor. My threat, coupled with the additional information that his wife would find out all about his little affair with you if this thing started involving the cops, did the trick. He has assured me that he will stay away from you. And I believe him.”

She licked her lip a little. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Are you okay with that, Laura?” he asked gently. “I mean, if you want to go to the cops and try to press charges on him for what he did, I’ll stand beside you.”

She was shaking her head violently. “No cops!” she said firmly. “I may be naïve, but I know how something like this would be handled. They’d make me out to be some slutty little whore who was trying to pull some scam. No way. I’m not going down that road. That’s why I didn’t call them in the first place.”

“That’s kind of my take on the situation as well,” he said. “The decision, however, is yours to make.”

“No cops,” she said again. “I’m just ... just amazed that you did what you did. I mean, it’s crazy, Jake. This only happened six hours ago and here you are, telling me you handled it. And I believe you!” Another shake of the head. “Wow. Just wow. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I mean, no one has ever tried to rape me before, obviously, but I thought I was just going to have to just suck this up and live with it—another example of the screwed up world we live in. You actually went and talked to him, Jake!”

“I actually went and talked to him,” he said. “The problem has been handled.”

She put her arms around him again and pulled him close. He held her, feeling her warmth, her softness, against him.

“Are you okay, hon?” he whispered to her.

“I’m trying to be,” she said. “This is probably going to screw with my head a little for a bit, but I’m really glad you didn’t get hurt, or in jail or anything like that.”

“Wasn’t going to happen,” Jake said. “I know his type and I know what buttons to push with that type.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” she said, speaking into his neck again. She hesitated for a moment and then, softly, “Do you ... you ... still love me?”

He pushed gently on her shoulders, breaking their embrace so they were looking into each other’s eyes again. “Of course I still love you,” he said. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well ... while I was waiting for you here, my mind was thinking all kinds of horrible things. One of those things was that ... well ... you would see me differently because he’d ... he’d put his hands on me like that. Like ... you know ... you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

Jake felt a strong surge of emotions running through him at these words. He had to choke back on a tear. “Laura, hon,” he told her. “I love you. Nothing has changed about that. Love doesn’t turn on and off like a light switch, you know. Nothing he could have done was going to change my feelings for you.”

“I ... uh ... just wasn’t sure,” she said. “This is my first time being in love, remember. I don’t know all the rules.”

He smiled. “There really aren’t any rules, but be assured, the love is still there.”

“Is it?”

“It is.”

She walked over to the edge of the bed and began unbuttoning her shirt. “Then show me,” she challenged.

He rose to the challenge quite easily.