Standing On Top

Chapter 2c

Pasadena, California

December 31, 1986

Rachel ended up wearing a black, thigh-length cocktail dress that clung to her body quite alluringly. Her toned legs were clad in dark nylons. She wore three-inch patent leather high heels on her feet. Her blonde hair — which was usually tied up in a ponytail at the restaurant — was styled and hanging down around her shoulders. Her face was carefully and expertly made up with just the right amount of blush, eye shadow, and bright red lipstick that glistened in the light.

When she opened the front door of her Pasadena apartment to Jake's knock he couldn't help but feel a sharp twinge of lust go coursing through him. "You are absolutely beautiful," he told her, quite truthfully.

She blushed, her long eyelashes batting just a little. "Thank you," she said shyly. "And you look... well... nice too."

He laughed. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, tennis shoes, and an old blue sweater. "I look like a skid row bum next to you," he said. "I told you it was casual."

"Do you think I'm overdressed?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Not at all," he assured her. "You'll have all the heads turning. I guarantee it. Are you ready to go?"

"Uh... sure," she said, "but before we go... well... can you come inside for just a second and meet my roommate? She doesn't believe I'm really going out with Jake Kingsley."

He went inside and met her roommate. She was a voluptuous brunette with large, jiggling breasts. She was dressed in a leather mini-skirt and a pair of knee-high boots, obviously about to go out on a date of her own. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Jake and she actually screamed, a shrill, piercing cry of worshipful disbelief.

"Oh my Gawd!" she yelled, bouncing over to him. "It really is you. She wasn't just fucking with me."

"It really is me," Jake said. "She wasn't just fucking with you."

"Oh my Gawd, oh my Gawd, ohmygawd!!" she yelled, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Rachel was clearly embarrassed by her roommate's reaction. It took her more than a minute to calm her down enough to make introductions — the roommate's name was Maureen. Jake took it in stride. He was quite used to women reacting in this manner when in his presence. He instinctively knew that if he wanted to, he could fuck Maureen right now, that she would accompany him to her bedroom right in front of Rachel if he only just asked. He didn't ask. Eventually he signed an autograph for her and told her it was time that he and Rachel got going. Maureen followed them downstairs, still bouncing excitedly and proclaiming "oh my Gawd!" every few seconds, saying she wanted to see the limo.

It was a standard stretch limousine, so common to Jake that he hardly even noticed it anymore. Both girls fawned over it, ogling the leather seats, running their hands over the window controls, drooling over the fully stocked bar. Finally, after more than ten minutes of showing them the various features, Maureen bid them a reluctant goodbye and went back into the house. Jake and Rachel settled into the seats near the back and Mario, their driver for the night, closed them inside. A minute later they were off, heading toward Malibu.

"Are you sure it was a good idea introducing her to me?" Jake asked. "Won't she go telling all your friends at school that you went out with me?"

"Probably," Rachel said, still looking around in awe.

"And won't word of that make it back to your boyfriend? I really don't like to make an enemy out of a man who might someday be treating me in the emergency room."

"It might," she said with a shrug. "I'm not really sure I'm going to be dating Paul much longer anyway, so what does it matter?"

"I see," Jake said, a touch of nervousness worming through him. He decided to treat it as he always did — with alcohol. "Would you like a drink?"

She did. He mixed her a whiskey sour and himself a rum and coke.

They arrived at Matt's Malibu beach house twenty minutes later. Mario held the door open for them and they stepped out, climbing the porch steps to the front door. Matt's butler opened it within seconds of the doorbell button being pushed. He led them inside to the entertainment room, where most of the people were gathered. Music was playing from the sound system at a volume just below the conversation dampening point. A keg of Foster's beer — an import from Australia — had been set up next to the bar. Nerdly and Coop were playing a game of pool at the table in the center of the room. Each had a young woman dressed in slutty clothing with them. Pauline was talking to Darren over in a corner. Another sluttily dressed woman was hanging on Darren's arm. Pauline had apparently come stag. Matt was over near the stereo system, loading CDs into his forty-eight disc changer. He had a drink sitting on the stereo cabinet and two women — one a petite brunette in a pair of hot pants, the other a demurely dressed redhead who looked like a librarian — standing next to him.

"Holy fuck!" Matt proclaimed when Jake and Rachel walked up to him. "Is this the waitress at that chow joint you took me to that one time?"

"This is her," Jake confirmed. "Rachel, I trust you remember Matt? He's kind of hard to forget."

"Hi, Matt," Rachel said shyly. "Nice place you got here."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Matt said, looking her up and down. "You're hot, baby! You oughtta wear that outfit when you're waiting tables. I bet your tips would go up."

She wasn't quite sure whether Matt was insulting her or not. Jake assured her that he meant that as one of his deepest and most heartfelt compliments.

"Fuck yeah, I do," Matt proclaimed. "You're the shit."

The party settled into gear. Everyone had a few drinks and then Matt broke out his newest acquisition — an electric water bong. "It doesn't actually burn the shit," he explained. "It just heats it up and vaporizes the THC for you. You can hardly feel the hit at all but it'll fuck you up like an F-111 over Libya."

He took the bong around to each person, refilling it after each hit from a large bag of green buds and explaining over and over how it worked. Rachel eyed it nervously as it came their way, sipping from her third whiskey sour.

"I've only smoked pot like twice, Jake," she whispered to him. "I'm a little nervous about it."

"You don't have to smoke it if you don't want to," he said. "We're here to have a good time. Nobody's gonna pressure you."

She thought that over for a few minutes and then decided to go for broke. She took two tremendous hits when the bong was given to her. Almost instantly her eyes began to glaze over. "Wow," she said. "I've never smoked anything like that before."

"Only the best in my house," Matt told her. "Only the fuckin' best. You in on this shit, Jake?"

Jake was in on it. He took two hits himself and was soon feeling quite all right.

As the night went on people gathered in small groups, talked, broke apart into other groups, and then talked some more. They munched on mushrooms stuffed with crab and cheese, finger sandwiches, taquitos smeared in guacamole, and several other appetizers prepared by Louisa, Matt's cook. They drank and smoked cigarettes. Matt, Darren, Coop, and a few of their women all snorted some cocaine from the edge of the pool table. Through it all Rachel stayed by Jake's side, flirting gently with him and making a point to touch his arm, his shoulder, his back whenever the opportunity arose. Several times she was a bit careless with her skirt when she sat down, letting Jake see that she was wearing frilly black panties beneath the nylons. It seemed that her boyfriend was the furthest thing from her mind right now.

Jake wasn't quite sure whether he should make a serious move on her or not. He genuinely liked her company and he knew that if they ended up having sex it would change their relationship, probably for the worst. Sex usually did that. And then there was the question of her boyfriend. She might not be thinking about him but Jake was. He didn't like to be thought of as a man who stole another man's girlfriend. But on the other hand, she was very attractive. As more drinks went down his throat, as he took more bonghits, his better judgement began to retreat to the back of his brain and his little head began to assert itself as the entity in charge.

"Do you want to go out to the balcony and look at the ocean?" he asked her just after ten thirty.

"Sure," she said, blushing a little, her leg rubbing against his.

He led her out the back door, the one that led to the ocean side of the wraparound balcony. The lights had already been turned out and the ocean air was brisk. Jake immediately heard the sound of a harmonica being played from somewhere to his right. He turned in that direction just as Rachel let out a gasp and a startled "oh my Lord."

"Jesus," Jake said, shaking his head a little. The harmonica was being played by Matt, who was sitting in one of the deck chairs next to the hot tub. Inside the hot tub were the two girls who were Matt's dates for the night. They were both naked and hotly caressing each other's bodies, their tongues in each other's mouths.

"Wassup?" Matt said nonchalantly, taking the harmonica from his mouth. The two girls didn't even break stride. "I'm just adding a little musical score to the action out here. You guys wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh... no, maybe later," Jake said. "We'll go over to the side of the house."

"Suit yourself," Matt said, taking a sip from his drink.

Jake led Rachel — who was still quite agape — over to the corner of the house, as far away as they could get from the hot tub while still being able to see the ocean.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked her.

"Those two girls were... were... and Matt was just... he... I mean... does this kind of thing go on a lot with you guys?"

"With Matt it does," Jake said. "He's kind of like a kid in a candy store sometimes. Do you want me to take you home?"

"No," she said immediately. "I'm sorry. I'm not a prude or anything. I've just never seen anything like that before. I've never even imagined something like that before."

"I'm sorry," Jake said. "Sometimes I forget how shocking our lifestyle might seem to someone who hasn't been around it."

"Is he going to... you know... have sex with them? Or are they just lesbians?"

"Oh he'll have sex with them all right," Jake said. "He's just enjoying a little warm-up action right now." He slid closer to the rail and put his arm around her, pulling her next to him. "How about we forget about that for the moment and just enjoy the ocean?"

She stiffened a little at first but finally allowed herself to snuggle into him. She laid her head on his shoulder and they simply stood there for a few minutes. The sound of the harmonica started up again, drifting to them on the breeze.

"He really is good with that thing," Rachel said. "If you can forget what's going on while he's playing it it's actually kind of... you know... romantic."

"Yeah," Jake said, playing with a lock of her hair. "I didn't even know he played the harmonica." He listened to the melody Matt was putting out. It was sweet and melancholy at the same time. There wasn't a note out of place or played sour, this despite the fact that Matt was loaded up with three different kinds of intoxicants and probably sporting a hard-on. Jake began to listen more closely, straining to hear the music.

Rachel turned her face up to Jake, signaling in that age-old manner that she wanted him to kiss her. But Jake didn't kiss her. Rachel was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. His ear was still tuned to Matt's harmonica and an idea — a crazy, probably impractical idea — was starting to form in his head.

"Jake?" Rachel asked, confused, wondering why Jake was staring straight ahead blankly. Was he having a seizure or something? "Jake?" she said, a little louder this time.

"Harmonica," Jake whispered. "Son of a bitch."

"Jake, what are you talking about?"

He shook his head a little, seeming to clear it. He was clearly excited about something and it wasn't Rachel. "Come on," he told her. "I need to talk to Matt for a second."

"You want to go... go back over there?" she asked.

"You can stay here if you want," he said. "This is important. Really it is."

He started heading back toward the hot tub. She hesitated for a second, wondering what the hell was going on, and then followed, more than a little nervously. When they arrived back at the scene of the action the action in question had progressed quite a bit. The redhead was now sitting on the edge of the tub, shivering in the night air, and the brunette had her face buried between her legs, lapping away at her. Matt was playing like mad on the harmonica, his eyes drinking in the sight, his shoulders moving back and forth to the rhythm. He looked up when they came tromping over.

"Decided to watch the show after all?" Matt asked. "Pull up a chair."

Jake wasn't looking at the two women though (although Rachel couldn't take her eyes off of them). He was looking at Matt. "Where did you learn to play the harmonica like that?" he asked him.

"This?" Matt asked with a shrug. "I've always known how to play it. It was the first instrument I learned how to play when I was a kid. I've had this one since I was about twelve or so."

"No shit?" Jake asked. "You're a fuckin' master with that thing."

"I'm a musician, Jake," Matt said. "And a fuckin' good one at that. Why does it surprise you that I can play the harmonica?"

"I never really thought about it before," Jake said. "I think I have an idea."

"What?"

"Come in the house," Jake said.

"Right now?" Matt asked. "In case you failed to notice, I'm about to get into some serious double-team action here."

"You can get action anytime," Jake told him. "Come in the house. Right now! And bring that thing with you."

Jake pulled him to his feet and practically dragged him inside. The party was still in full swing and the stereo was blaring out Earthstone's latest CD. Jake went over and shut it off, causing silence to descend upon the entertainment room.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jake?" Matt asked. "Tell me what this shit is about."

"Get me a guitar," he said. "An acoustic."

"A guitar? Right now? What the fuck for?"

"Just do it," Jake said.

Matt seemed about to say something else but then he took a good look at Jake's face. He turned to Charles, the butler. "Hey, Chuckie," he said. "Go up to my office and grab that Brogan six-string that's stuffed in the closet. Bring a couple of picks down too."

"Right away, sir," Charles said. He headed for the staircase.

"What's going on?" asked Nerdly, who had been making out with his date when the interruption came.

"Ask Mr. Coitus Interuptus here," Matt said.

"I think I found a way to work I Am Time," Jake said.

"What?" asked Darren. "How?"

"Oh no," Matt said, shaking his head in disgust. "You can't seriously be thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

"I think I am," Jake said. "I play a solid backing with my guitar and we substitute the lead with Matt's harmonica."

The rest of the band all stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"No lead?" Coop asked. "Are you high?"

"Yes, I am," Jake said. "That's how I got the idea."

"Jake," Matt said gently, as if he were dealing with an unpredictable psycho, "we can't not have a lead guitar in one of our tunes. That's even worse than not putting Nerdly's piano in. That's not even rock and roll."

"I know it sounds crazy," Jake said, "but I think we can work it. Just play the same notes at the same tempo on the harmonica as you were doing on the guitar when we tried to nail it down. It'll mix. I'm sure of it."

"That might be true," Matt said, "but it won't be a hard rock song, it'll be blues. We're a hard rock band, not a blues band, remember?"

"Just try it," Jake said. "Right here, right now. I'll play your acoustic and sing the lyrics. You play lead on the harmonica. Just do it once and see what it sounds like."

Matt sighed. "All right," he said. "I'll try it. And then can I get back to my fornication?"

"Of course," Jake assured him.

Charles came downstairs carrying a white Brogan acoustic guitar by the neck. He handed it to Jake along with a couple of guitar picks. Jake set it in his lap and cracked his knuckles, limbering up his fingers. He then picked up the guitar and gave it a quick strum. It was slightly out of tune but not enough to matter for this particular experiment. He put his left hand on the neck, grabbing an F chord, and then began to strum a nothing rhythm, just to get the feel of the unfamiliar guitar.

"You ready?" Jake asked Matt.

"Yeah," he said, putting the harmonica to his lips. "I'm fucking ready. Let's get this shit over with."

Jake nodded and began to strum out the rhythm to I Am Time, his fingers making the rapid chord changes, his right hand strumming the strings. The melody was infectious and within seconds all who had never heard it were tapping their feet and shrugging their shoulders to the rhythm. The opening of the song was composed to start with only the rhythm guitar. After the first verse and the first chorus, the drums, bass, piano, and, as Jake now hoped, Matt's harmonic would kick in.

"I'm the force that can't be stopped, I'm the power that will not wait

"I pull your life along, I am the master of your fate

"From the moment you are born I'm the one you can't defeat

"You will curse my very name yet I'll still march at my own beat

"I am time, I am your enemy

"I'll undermine your sense of dignity

"I'll rob you of your youth and someday I'll rob you of your life

"There's nothing you can do but come to terms with my strife

"I am time... I am time, yeah!"

Jake began to play harder, a little faster, changing the tempo to the main rhythm of the song. Matt began to play his harmonica, mimicking the guitar solo he'd played during the jam sessions. His playing was listless at best, with no emotion whatsoever coming forth. Jake stopped playing before he even started the longer, more intense second verse.

"What?" Matt asked. "Why'd you stop?"

"That sounds like shit," Jake said.

"I already told you it would sound like shit," Matt said. "Can I get back to the fuckin' hot tub now?"

"No," Jake said, "I mean you sound like shit. You were playing that thing like it was a pussy full of pus. Play it like it's a clean, freshly shaven pussy. Play it like you were out there on the balcony when your two sluts were licking each other out."

"Dude," Matt said, "I was playing in 'I'm about to get laid by two lesbo bitches' mode out there. That's a happy song. This is a dark tune about getting old and having everything slip away from you. It's a bitchin' tune, dude, but it ain't a happy tune."

"Then play it sad and mournful," Jake said. "Put the goddamn emotion of the song into that harmonica."

Matt took a deep breath. He looked around to see that everyone was staring at him expectantly. "Okay," he said, "I'll try again. But first, I need a couple of hits. Where's that fuckin' bong at?"

Charles immediately located the bong and the now diminished bag of marijuana. He brought it over to his boss and loaded up a large hit for him. "Your cannabis, sir," he said, presenting it to him.

"Thanks, Chuckie," Matt said. He put the mouth of the bong to his own mouth and hit the button. A cloud of steam-like gas formed in the chamber and Matt sucked it deeply into his lungs. He held it for almost thirty seconds and then blew it out. "Hit me again," he said.

Charles hit him again, putting an even larger hit in this time. Matt sucked it down. After exhaling he took a few breaths and then picked up the harmonica again. "Okay," he said. "I think I got this thing in perspective now, Jake. Let's do it again."

Jake nodded. He strummed a few open chords and then grabbed the neck and began to play, going through the opening sequence again. He belted out the first verse and then the first chorus, stretching out the final word, pausing for the briefest second, and then launching into the main rhythm. Matt began to play the harmonica again, winding up into a braying accompaniment that was worlds different from his first effort. This time it was obvious that he was feeling the music. He blew into the organ with force and emotion, his fingers moving over the holes and extracting a sweetly mournful sound that mixed almost perfectly with the rhythm.

"Yeah," Nerdly said, excited, his fingers itching to pound on some piano keys and throw his own efforts in but Matt, unfortunately, did not own a piano.

"Play it, Mattie!" Coop yelled, drumming on his knees with his hands.

"You got it!" Darren said, forgetting for the first time tonight about the nice hit of black tar heroin he was going to smoke when he got home.

Jake sang and strummed his way through the second verse, which was much longer, much more in depth about the insidious nature of time. Matt continued to play along, hitting high notes and low notes, drawing out some and sharpening others, always keeping perfectly in rhythm. Pauline and the other women were now softly clapping their hands to the beat of the song, all of them smiling in awe as they witnessed the birth of a song. Even Charles — who hated rock music like the Arabs hated the Jews — was bobbing his head as he heard the composition.

Jake went through the second chorus, which was twelve lines instead of the five that had been present in the first. He then launched into an extended bridge in which the rhythm picked up in intensity and speed, the words pouring out of his mouth in machine-gun style. Matt kept right up with it, bending his neck and raising his head to the ceiling on several occasions. After the bridge was a solo — originally intended for a guitar, of course. Matt belted it out on the harmonica, increasing his volume and tempo, his fingers flying, his mouth inhaling and exhaling in just the right manner.

"Wow," Rachel said, staring in awe at the two musicians. She had never really been an Intemperance fan at all, preferring country music and the standard eighties staples that she saw on MTV. Even after meeting Jake and becoming friends with him, the only Intemperance songs she had heard were those that appeared on MTV. She came to the realization that Jake really was a talented musician and not just a momentary sensation.

The third verse of the song was played even faster, almost suicidal in tempo. Jake's fingers were a blur on the neck, his pick hitting the strings with almost enough force to cause damage. His voice belted it out, carrying across the room. And Matt continued to hold up his end on the harmonica, throwing down a melodious accompaniment that seemed to bear no relationship whatsoever to the blues, that was pure, unadulterated rock and roll.

After the final verse ended they were in no man's land. They had never composed beyond this point since they'd never been able to dial in the main part of the tune to their satisfaction. They did not stop now, however. Jake continued to strum, keeping up with the pace that had been set and Matt went into a complex and amazing harmonica solo that lasted more than two minutes. Jake did some voice work during the solo, mostly just repeating the title of the song, mixing it up with some variations.

"I am time... yeah. I am time. Time. I am tiiiiiiiiiiimme, yeah, yeah, yeah, time."

They finally wound up in an ending that wasn't quite coordinated but that did manage to bring closure to the song. Jake slowly reduced the tempo down to an almost ballad-like pace and Matt let the harmonica wind down into a long, drawn out, final note.

"Fuck yeah!" said Coop, standing up and clapping both Matt and Jake on the back. "That was fuckin' awesome!"

"Damn right," said Darren.

"I must concur," said Nerdly. "When we mix the piano in and add drums and a bass beat, it will be most aesthetic to the cultured ear."

Pauline, Charles, Rachel, and even Matt's two women — both of whom were covered in towels and sitting on the couch — all agreed with this consensus.

"You were right, Jake," Matt said, signaling to Charles for a beer. "It mixed well and it wasn't blues. I liked it. I liked it a lot."

"You really are a master with that thing, Matt," Jake said. "I stand in awe."

"Don't you always stand in awe?" Matt asked.

"As much as you do of me," Jake said with a smile. "So anyway, the real question is, should we keep working on it? It's not exactly classic Intemperance."

"True," Matt said, "but if we do it right, it is a radical new form of hard rock. Nobody's ever done anything like this before."

"I think people will like it," Nerdly said. "The real question is whether Crow and Doolittle will use their veto power on it. You know how they are about formulization."

"Yeah," Jake said with a frown. Crow and Doolittle were both of the opinion that every follow-up to a successful album should sound as much like the original as possible. "They might shoot it down."

"Well," said Matt, "let's start working it tomorrow and see what the final version sounds like. We'll put it on the demo and push as hard as we can to get it included. Hell, maybe we could push it off as a filler tune."

"Sounds like a plan," Jake said.

The five band members spent the next hour discussing the new tune and the various ways in which it should be played when they started working on the final version. They ignored everyone around them as they talked and at one point Matt even suggested that they all hop in their limos and take a ride out to the rehearsal warehouse and start working on it tonight. Only the fact that it was nearly a forty-minute ride kept them from actually doing this.

Eventually, to the relief of their dates, the music talk finally broke up just as midnight approached. The television was turned on to one of the New Year's Eve specials that had been recorded on the east coast three hours before. Jake settled into the couch in front of the television, Rachel sitting next to him, her legs crossed in a ladylike manner. He put his arm around her. Once again she stiffened a little but eventually snuggled into him.

"I'm sorry for the little interruption," he apologized. "When I heard that harmonica playing I was just struck by inspiration. I've found it best not to disregard such things when they come."

"That's okay," she said, sipping from a glass of white wine. "It was really kind of amazing watching you play that song. I've never seen anything like that before."

"As I said, the composition is one of the best parts of this job."

"I can see why," she said. "And I didn't understand most of what you guys were talking about just now — all that stuff about chords and keys and mixing and distortion levels — but it was pretty cool to listen anyway. It was like watching engineers figure out how to build a bridge, or doctors figuring out how to cure someone."

Jake didn't miss her reference to doctors. "Kind of like what your doctor is doing tonight?" he asked.

She frowned a little. "He's a nerd," she said. "I think I might've broke up with him a long time ago if my mom didn't like him so much. She says he's a very marriageable man."

"Because he's gonna be a doctor?"

"Yeah," she said. "She doesn't see much beyond that."

"And what does she think of me?" Jake asked. "Does she know you're out with me tonight?"

"She knows," Rachel said. "She likes you a lot, Jake. I'm sure you can tell that just from coming into the restaurant. She was a little worried about tonight though. She kept asking me just what our relationship was and what I was going to tell Paul."

"And what did you tell her?"

She smiled. "I told her to mind her own damn business."

On the television screen the clock had reached 11:59 PM. The crowd in Times Square began to count down the seconds. Jake, Rachel, and everyone else in the room dropped whatever they were doing and began to pay attention, waiting for the magic turn of the hour that would mark the new year.

Everyone in the room began to count down the last twenty seconds as the ball began to drop on the screen. When there was only two seconds to go Jake turned to Rachel, who was looking at him expectantly and a little nervously. He leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were soft and alluring and a chill of lustful infatuation he hadn't felt since Mindy Snow went shooting through him. The kiss broke four seconds after the new year started. The next one started eight seconds after it. This time Jake pushed his tongue forward a little and she opened her mouth a bit, accepting the intrusion. This kiss made it well into midnight+1.

"Wow," Rachel said when it broke, her eyes shining, her face flushed.

"Happy New Year," Jake told her, rubbing his nose against hers.

"A time for new beginnings," she said. "For throwing out the old and letting in the new."

"That's what they say," Jake said. He kissed her again. This time she put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her.

Pauline left shortly after midnight as she saw that all the couples (and, in the case of Matt, triples) began to come together in earnest. Jake took Rachel out onto the balcony again and they spent the better part of an hour just holding each other and kissing. Several times he put his hand on the back of her thigh, attempting to run it upward beneath her skirt. She pushed his hand away every time, putting it firmly back on her waist.

The party began to break up shortly after two o'clock in the morning. Matt, having already fucked both of his women in a variety of positions and using a variety of non-politically correct maneuvers, sent them home in a limo and went to bed. Nerdly took his woman back to his house with him, explaining the finer points of the limousine and luxury industry all the while. Darren and Coop both took their dates home with them, intending to carry on their festivities there. Jake and Rachel both climbed into the limo with Mario behind the wheel. Jake closed the privacy partition and pulled her against him.

"Would you like to come back to my place?" he asked her, stroking her bare shoulder with one finger.

"I can't," she said. "I'm not quite... ready for that yet. You understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said, kissing where his finger had just been caressing. "I understand."

The limo pulled out, heading for Pasadena. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Rachel asked. "I mean, I know that you're used to women just... you know... doing everything with you whenever you want, but..."

"It's okay," he said. "I'm not mad at all. You have a boyfriend and this was supposed to be a platonic date. I shouldn't have even done what I did."

"No," she said, shaking her head sternly. "Don't say that. I liked kissing you, Jake. I like being with you. The first thing tomorrow I'm calling Paul and telling him it's over between us."

"You are?" Jake asked, not quite sure how he felt about that.

"It doesn't have anything to do with us kissing and... you know... stuff like that," she told him. "Even if you never asked me out again, I'd still do it."

"Why?" he asked.

"Paul is not for me," she said. "He's square, he's boring, and I don't really have any romantic feelings for him. I was dating him because my mother thought I should date a future doctor. Tonight I had fun and I saw how boring the dates I went on with Paul were by comparison. I realized that I was setting myself up for life as a trophy wife, just like my mom did with both of her husbands. I don't want that. I want to have fun."

"Well, I'm glad I could provide some fun for you," he said. "But are you sure you want to just dump the guy? I mean, you've been drinking and smoking weed. Maybe you're not really thinking clearly."

"I'm not really thinking clearly, but that's just now. This is something that's been coming for a while now. Tonight just made me see that my instincts were right. Paul and I are through, no matter what."

Jake nodded. They sat for another minute and then began kissing again. They kissed all the way back to her Pasadena apartment.

When they pulled up outside Jake asked if she wanted him to walk her up.

"I'll be all right," she said. "It's a safe neighborhood."

He kissed her again. "Is the restaurant closed tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"We're gonna be jamming for most of the day tomorrow but maybe after we're done you'd like to go out with me?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

They kissed again and Jake collected her phone number. She went upstairs and disappeared.

Mario drove him home. For the first time since his early days with Mindy Snow his testicles throbbed with the affliction of blue balls. He wasn't upset about this, however. He was quite pleased. It really was true what they said about respecting women in the morning. Had she gone back to his place and slept with him tonight, Jake would have never talked to Rachel again, would have never visited the restaurant again. Since she had fended him off, however, he now had a date with her.