Sessions ~ Studio Time

Studio Time: Twenty Two

2012-01-15T16:24:00.000-08:00

University. Seven Locks Road: 8 PM

Hurrying down the stairs in the rental he shared with his brother, Eric glanced out the window while shrugging into his coat; the weather was holding clear for once. There had been other awards evenings, this wasn’t his first, but it was a big one with a lifetime achievement award going to their father and Mercury Rising not to mention all the other awards they were up for. Album of the year, song of the year, artist of the year to name a few. After calling half a dozen different people, he'd finally reached his father who had assured him everything was fine, come on, Slim would meet him. He sounded distracted and even more hoarse than he normally did. This should be a good time and it wasn't turning out that way. He started to yell for his twin and then saw him lounging on the couch wearing sweats and doing nothing.

Eric turned his head, favoring his left ear, the one he could use, an automatic reaction he tried to avoid but never seemed to overcome, and looked over the back of the couch at his brother. No fucking way he was sitting there. "What the hell are you doing? You look like shit, you're not coming?"

Nate sank down into the couch, stretched out, looking at football game highlights, changing the channel, hitting something with a retrospective on their father's career, stabbing hard at the remote, turning it off with a vengeance. He sat there in front of the blank screen.

"No."

As hard as he tried, Eric never understood his twin, no twin language, nothing. He thought he'd gotten past most of it, almost most of it, to the point where he started to feel comfortable in his own skin but the attitude, he couldn't get past that and here it was again, and, once again, he had to pick up the pieces and fix what Nate blew up.

"You know what, you're an asshole. Wyatt's in the hospital; Mom's probably not going to show or she'll come with Blade; who the hell knows what Rayne's doing; this is Dad's big moment and you're going to sit it out? Fuck you, Nate. I'm going. And yeah, I can hear you. I'm not listening but I can hear you. I can hear you better than you can hear me and I always have."

Eric slammed the door, strode down the dark sidewalk on the side of the campus nobody ever wanted to walk, the side with the drop into nowhere, the side he preferred. The taxi was waiting, his twin somewhere behind him, being Nate, being his father's clone, being the dark side of his father, every damned thing he didn't like multiplied. Simplified. Purified.

Eric struggled with his wallet once he got to the street, angry, realizing he'd left his cash behind, wind blowing, cold, and the taxi idling with the headlights pointing west toward the highway and the exit to South Beach. "Hold on, forgot this again didn't you." Nate shoved in, flashed a smile at the taxi driver and a wad of bills and then turned and came at him.

"Quit sucking up, Eric. He's a dick and you know it. I don't forget, maybe you do, but I don't. I was the one he pinned up against the wall when we tried to stop him. Not you. And I didn't back down but if memory serves me...yeah I can use some big words...if memory serves me you ran off. If Mom's there, give her a hug for me. Nobody but me seems to give a damn about her."

That was so messed up on so many levels, Eric didn't know where to begin, and it didn't help that Nate used people himself and never seemed to consider it a big deal. The hero cape didn't fit Nate and never would.

Cold, his hands shaking, Eric knew he should just give up and get in the damned taxi and leave, but this time, this one time, the whole Nate the hero deal pissed him off too much to walk away from it.

"Let's say you're right. Dad's a dick and Mom's a princess and you're the what...what are you exactly? You think you're going to rescue her? If you don't show up for the biggest award of his career, you make her look bad. Everybody knows what she did; they're on his side, not hers. Maybe that's not fair, but that's the way it is. If you don't show, she'll get the blame, she'll be the one who kept you from going because she's such a bitch. And the whole deal with you and Dad, nobody knows and nobody cares if you got into it with him, except me. I was there, too, Nate, and I didn't run. What I didn't do is get in his face and tell him to go put it where he'd been the night before, and yeah, he slammed you against a wall. I don't like doing this alone and you owe me."

Nate turned away, walked a few paces, then looked back, standing in the spray from the fountain somebody should have shut off because it was goddamned winter and the thing froze up, and he was shivering and laughing, forced and hard. "Yeah man, I guess I do owe you, don't I? Stick in the ear and a lot of shit, haven't forgotten about that girl and the deal with the cops so yeah, I do owe you. And I'll miss some serious swag. Give me ten minutes."

“He’s kind of a jerk, isn’t he."

Eric took a deep, shaking breath and shot the taxi driver a quick glare. She’d gotten out of the car and was standing on the sidewalk watching the exchange. She was probably a second year student with a side job, and she probably knew who they were, everybody always did, and here she was, waiting on Nate or waiting on a chance to see his father. The badge in the taxi said 'Linnet Carpenter'. He didn't recognize the name.

“It's none of your business. And he's not wrong.”Eric’s eyes drifted along the path his twin had taken. He was a jerk but Eric knew there was more to Nate than met the eye. Folding his arms, he exhaled, his warm breath misting as he glanced back over his shoulder at the girl. She just stood there, pretty and quiet.

"You don't know him." Behind him, Eric heard the lights buzz on. Something in this damned place worked once in a while. The girl was still looking at him, and maybe he just needed to say it to someone who didn't know him, someone who didn't know his brother, someone who didn't care. "Like I said, he's not wrong. But neither am I.“

Studio Time: Twenty One

2011-12-18T13:06:00.000-08:00

South Beach, West Marina: 11 PM

They didn't speak. Instead they walked hand in hand toward the hotel where Cooper stayed. He kept contact with Beth's hand brushing it with his fingers, clasping it securely before letting go of it only to repeat the process. It was not nearly enough but he didn't want to spook her so he settled for that small gesture.

When they arrived at his hotel, Coop led her up to his suite. He'd moved around a lot since they separated but this place suited him. It reminded him of the house they were renovating on Fire Island Way before it all went to shit; it felt as close to home as it could without having Beth and his little girl with him.

Fluffing a few pillows, he gestured for her to sit, paced a bit and glanced over her shoulder at the bed behind them. He would much prefer to do his talking there, show her how he felt, but that would be too much, too fast and they would be right back where they started with nothing settled. He wanted to clear the air, start again fresh and make it right.

He exhaled and then sat on the coffee table in front of her. Dangling his hands between his legs, he looked into her eyes and searched for a way to reach her, a way to unlock the door and come home.

They sat there in silence for a long time before he joined her on the seat. He turned toward her and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. "I wrote something for you. I wrote it because I don't want to go on like this. I want to come home, be with you and Hugs. Maybe we can't put it back like it was at the beginning, but I know you, and you’re not any happier than I am. You need me as much as I need you. Will you listen?"

She’d put her hair up and she was wearing something he’d never seen her wear before, and although it was attractive, it wasn’t her. She was using it as armor, shutting up her breasts and tying up her hair and hiding in there. The long bare back was the only thing left of the woman he knew and loved. Her cheeks flushed, and he was close enough to feel the heat from her body. If he touched her neck, he knew he’d feel her pulse jump. You can’t hide...I know you.

Hesitating, Beth looked toward the open door where the caged birds flew and settled and left and returned, watching them, letting them go, pulling back from him, looking back at him. Familiar and distant, the one and the other. She was a little drunk. One of the best women he'd ever gotten drunk with, a lot of memories good fucking memories, but if he couldn't keep her here tonight he was going to make sure she got home safe. In a voice not much louder than a whisper, she told him, "I'm not coming back. But I'll listen."

He smiled, held her gaze for several seconds before rising and walking towards his Gibson. Gripping it in his right hand, he settled back down across from her, positioned the guitar and ran the neck lovingly through his hand. “I sent the lyrics home with Hugs that day she and Bunny toppled into the fountain, and I’ve been told they didn’t survive. I’m realizing that she did me a favor.”

She leaned toward him. She always leaned into him when he sang, when he spoke, the long empty moment watching her lean and knowing if he didn't get this down, they were both lost. And as he sang his words of love to the only woman who could inspire them, the lyrics wrapping them both in a tightening harmonic web, a web that brought the birds down, light and air and the rush of black wings as he sang her back to him.

She put one hand to her face, the diamond he had given her, the wedding ring, both of them still there, still shining, and she wept.

South Beach: Red Label Studio, Chinatown, 6 PM

Alex asked her to meet him downtown near the studio, knowing he didn't have the time now to set something up at home. The roadies were loading equipment into the van for tomorrow's RMA performance while Rob directed them, Shooter pitched in, and Duff lounged against the wall talking on his cell. Alex left them to it and strode across the street toward the park, his own cell buzzing before he made it past the fence. He checked it, uneasy: she was running late, she was parking.

Alex didn't bother to return the message since she wouldn't expect it and he hadn't worked out what he was going to say. Maybe he should offer to go ahead and take her as a date even though it no longer felt right. He wasn't sure what her reaction was going to be when he told her about Dani; she probably wouldn't want to go with him. It was hard to tell. He didn't know what she was thinking or feeling and had to admit he hadn't gotten as far with her as he'd expected. More than likely she wouldn't care, and that in itself was kind of disconcerting.

She looked ragged, and despite himself Alex couldn't help but compare her to Dani. He pulled himself together and walked up to her. "Hey, you know what, we need to talk."Beth glanced at the trees that were still a brilliant blaze of color and shrugged. The park was empty, nothing but a tourist and somebody dealing with the dying flower beds. She walked past him down through the arch near the pool. "I have to tell you something," he began.

She didn't seem to hear him. She reached up and and stroked the red dying leaves on one of the trees and then looked back and smiled. "Okay, me too."

It was starting to feel worse than he'd anticipated. The fountains in the pool kicked in, sputtering, spraying old water all around them. She finally sat down on a bench and crossed her legs and looked at him. "Thanks for making me feel better."

She stopped, glanced away, took a quick light breath and continued. "I really mean it, Alex, but I’m ending things. It’s not about you and it’s not about anybody else, it’s just not what I need to be doing right now. And don’t tell me your heart is broken because it’s not. Now it’s your turn."

Wait...what? Caught off guard, his first reaction was to persuade her otherwise, to fight back, then he realized that she was making it easy on him and went right to the heart of it. "I'm going back to Dani." He sat down next to her. The pool fountains chugged and spurt up again, and she swept her hair back, her eyes dark, big bags under her eyes. He struggled past some anger about Cooper and what he knew about her, which wasn't much, but she wasn't the bitch he thought she was when he started this game.

"So you were in love with her all along." It was a quiet, satisfied statement.

"I guess...” he hesitated and looked away, grappling with how much he wanted to reveal. Things with Dani were still too new, too fragile. He hadn’t yet completely come to terms with all of it; how could he adequately explain when the words were elusive even to him?

He turned his attention back to Beth. “Yeah, I guess I was...am in love with her. You called it. We're good, though, you and I, right? I mean, here I was thinking I’d be breaking your heart." He smiled, relief replacing his worry.

She smiled back, shifted on the bench and took his hand. "I did call it. Yes, we're good. I'm going to take off now, but we really are good, Alex. Take good care of her. And I guess you lost the game."

She slid up off the bench and moved fast, one long stride after the other, going somewhere under the red falling leaves and the failing light, and he got up and yelled after her.

"Give it a chance, Beth. Give it one more chance. Do that. Hey I know you hear me, give him a fucking chance! And I didn't lose shit, it's not over yet!"

He expected her to keep walking. Something went down between her and Cooper, Rob was never wrong, but she stopped and looked back, letting the wind tear at her hair and the dying light ruin her face. For an instant, he thought she might have some glib comeback but she offered that enigmatic Mona Lisa smile and said nothing at all.

Studio Time: Twenty

2011-11-05T11:35:00.000-07:00

49 Windward Cove, Bay View - 7:42AM

Alex awakened with a start. Disoriented, he slowly sat up and tried to get his bearings. This wasn't Dani's bedroom, even through his hazy vision that was obvious. The decor was masculine - maybe she hadn't gotten around to decorating it yet. He squinted when a ray of sunlight filtering through the blinds, hit him squarely in the face. His head was pounding but he wasn't so addled or hungover to not remember what Dani wanted from him, what she so courageously asked him for last night. A baby.

He had to clear his head. Turning on the shower, he stripped his underwear off and stood under the cascading water. As the hot water sluiced down his shoulders and back, he replayed the previous night in his mind. She opened herself up to him, opened her heart and laid it bare. She stood there, vulnerable but proud, ready to take on the consequences of his decision one way or another. It had always been clear to her what she wanted out of life, and she made it clear that a baby was going to be in her immediate future but what Dani wanted didn't always fit with his plans.

Dani, his Dani...her lower lip quivered when he gently turned her down but she did not cry, not one tear. She handled his refusal with the same quiet grace as she always did when he denied her. It would have been easy for him to take her to bed and pray that he didn't knock her up. He knew he could be a monumental ass, but he could not do that to her. Even then, he still tried to seduce her.

Alex turned off the shower, dried his body and wrapped the towel around his hips. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he briefly wondered what a kid of theirs would be like, if they would have a boy or a girl. What price would that child pay having an absentee father with his lifestyle, what toll would that take on his career? What if some guy eventually came along who was willing to give Dani the life she wanted, a home, a family, a solid marriage...he didn't want some other man raising their child, some other guy being there for all the Kodak moments. Their child...

"Get a grip, Blade," he muttered to his reflection.

He padded toward the bedroom across the hall, knocked gently and then entered. Her bed was made, he wasn't even sure it had been slept in. His eyes fell on a collage of photos on her wall - their wedding photos. They had been so happy that day, so in love. It pained him to see these photos, knowing that happiness was gone and it had been his fault. She was always with him even now, always under his skin, in his heart, in the small things like the scent of a flower that brought her to mind.

She had not let go of their history either, their marriage, and he was stoking the fire every time he came to her. She put up with every woman that had come after they split. She comforted him, listened to him, mended his broken heart and soothed his ego with quiet grace. Alex swore under his breath and realized that telling her no, forcing her to follow through with her ultimatum, was the right choice even if it meant she might be with someone else. He never allowed the possibility to enter his head before and it killed him to think of her in another man's bed. Selfish bastard...

He dressed and went downstairs. Dani was in the kitchen making breakfast and his stomach lurched at the aroma.

"There's a mug of hot coffee on the counter for you. I thought you might be hung over so I added a shot of J.D. It always did ease the morning after headaches." She did not turn to face him, she must have heard his boots lumbering down the stairs.

"You always know what I need, don't you..."

She turned to face him then and Alex noticed the slight redness that ringed her eyes. He would give anything to make her pain go away. She smiled wistfully at him. "Yes, I always know what you need, Alex. I know what I need, too."

Dani walked toward him and placed a trembling hand against his face. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I can't do this anymore, Blade. When you walk out the door, I don't want you to come back."

***

Brick House Tavern, Downtown Metro Area, South Beach 11:38AM

“Hair of the dog? Isn’t it a little early to be hitting the sauce?”

“It’s Happy Hour somewhere...what makes you think I’m hung over?”

Rob lifted his body onto the bar stool, flagged the bartender and signaled for two more shots. Checking the surface of the bar quickly, he leaned an elbow on it and studied him. “Fuck you, Alex. We were thirteen years old the first time I got you drunk. We’re long past who knows what and why.”

Alex swiveled around to face Rob and hooked a boot through the rung of the stool to steady it. The room began to spin and his stomach rumbled but he managed to hold it together. “If you’re here to gloat about your so-called date, I don’t want to hear about it. We both know it meant nothing.”

Rob fell silent. He took the shot. Ordered another and downed it before he slid his attention back and asked, “So that’s why you went running to Danica...because it meant nothing?”

“How did you know...never mind.” Alex flicked a piece of ice off the bar, stood leaning against the bar and frowned. How could he explain about Dani? He still hadn’t wrapped his head around the idea that she didn’t want to see him again. The thought left a hole inside him that was cavernous. He scanned the room quickly and in a subdued voice said, “She asked me to give her a baby.”

Rob shook his head and chuckled. “And of course you said no. Alex when are you going to admit you love the woman and be done with this Cooper business - which I might add is going to blow up in your face sooner rather than later.”

Not that again. Alex twirled his drink in his hand, considering the drink and considering Rob. Yeah maybe he'd been MIA and he'd had other things on his mind, but there wouldn't be any damned band without him. If he hadn't gone after Cooper, forced Rob and Duff to change things up to take him on, they wouldn't be where they were, climbing right up Coop's ass. Finding Beth Stanfield hanging out there, he would have been one stupid son of a bitch not to use something like that to knock Coop off balance, and she was unexpectedly appealing. He wasn't ready to give that up. Sliding carefully off the bar stool, he eyed Rob and, reluctantly, asked, "All right, I'll bite. What're you talking about?"

Rob stood as well, kicking the bar stool aside, a quick uneasy move, and straightened his sleeves before folding his arms. The Rob maneuver. Alex expected nothing more than a lecture but what he got instead surprised him. “Our date last night, which I might add was a dismal failure, ended with the two of us running into Queen Camilla and the man himself. It took all of about two seconds for Cooper to sweep your girl onto his white horse and ride off into the sunset. Normally I would not give a damn but I am bone tired, Alex. I have been holding all of this together with spit and twine, sacrificed everything I cared about for this band and what have you done?”

His first reaction was confusion, followed by anger. Rob must have pissed her off; she wouldn't walk off with Cooper like that, she hadn't even mentioned his name in weeks. "What the hell do you mean...what did you say to her?"

Rob hesitated, glanced off to the side and sighed. “He walked up and did what he does and walked off with her. She’s into him and for some damned reason he’s not going to stop running after her. Alex, make it work with Dani. You’re in love with the woman, don’t throw it away. There’s no way back, and there’s no substitute and you know it. I’m out of here. I’ll be at the studio.”

49 Windward Cove, Bay View - 1:56PM

Staying in shape was never a concern of Dani's. She worked out when she needed to, always watched her diet but was never fanatical about it. Today, however, there was nothing she needed more than a blast of endorphins shooting through her body. She did two circuits on her exercise bike, yoga and finished it off with a run on the beach. The sea spray hit her body with a cooling mist and she thought about going another mile when a shadow moved between the palms.

"You shouldn't have come back, Blade." He twined his fingers through hers and brushed the damp hair from her face.

"Not Blade - Alex. Yes, Dani...my answer is yes."

Studio Time: Nineteen

2011-11-01T04:25:00.000-07:00

South Beach: Bridge Street Diner, 8 PM

The door was locked and Linnet was pretty sure, not positively one hundred percent sure she'd turned off the OPEN sign, but it didn't matter much because no one was allowed in and the door was definitely locked. It was a private party. She remembered to turn off the TV and the juke box and locked the back door to the dumpster. And there he was, sitting there, in a booth she probably hadn't really cleaned all that thoroughly. And her sister was annoyed.

"You've known him since he was ten, quit staring at him."Jean always did that, reminded her of everything she should know but didn't. This time she could keep saying it. That was Cooper sitting there.

"You've known him since he was ten. I wasn't born yet when he was ten, remember? He's really hot isn't he?"

Her sister smiled. "He's really not interested. Here, give him his burger. Try not to drool on it; he'll notice and I don't want to have to cook another one."

He was leaning back in the booth, his attention focused somewhere about a foot above the woman's head, dark circles under his eyes and fine tension lines around his mouth. You're not having a good time, Linnet thought sympathetically. Poor bored unhappy smoking hot rock star.

"Here's your food, Cooper. Can I get you anything else?"

He swung his gaze up at her, held it, and unexpectedly smiled. It was so cute; it was sexy and cute and it came with a quick wink as he sat up straighter. "Thanks. I'm good."

The woman with him flipped her hair off one shoulder and tapped long nails on the table. She was like an Aztec woman with those black straight cut bangs across the forehead and that long nose; all she needed was the huge gold necklace and the knife. Linnet imagined her standing on top of a stone pyramid with a knife in her hand and -- "You will remember to put the dressing on the side and no onions not one single onion. Or croutons I don't want any croutons you're going to remember that aren't you?"

Linnet shook off the really weird image. Although they didn't get many salad eaters, it wasn't an unusual request and she wasn't sure why it freaked her out so much. "Not a single one. I'll be right back with it."

Jean handed her the tray with the bowl of salad and the little jar of ranch dressing, which the woman probably wouldn't like, and gave her a warning glance. "Don't mess with her," she whispered. "I mean it. Do not do that. I'll explain who she is later."

She didn't need to explain. "Oh I won't, not me, not one mess, not a single one." Linnet hesitated, adding dryly, "She's not going to need a knife with that salad, is she?"

*****

"This date is not how it was described in the catalog because I remember very clearly that it was an evening at the White Dolphin. Who changed it and look at me I'm wearing the wrong clothes."

Cooper had spent a good ten minutes standing in the parking lot aiming a frozen grin at the charity photographers while Camilla offered her profile and her rack and somehow managed to keep her mouth shut until they walked in and sat down. The place was empty. Jean Carpenter suggested shutting it down for this particular event. He dropped by frequently, and usually attracted no attention, but he didn't want to deal with both Cam and curious fans so he'd gratefully accepted. He'd hoped he could get Camilla to stay relatively quiet for an hour...yeah, right. Never going to happen.

"I changed it. You've been there anyway."

Cam leaned forward across the table. "That's not the point because I said I am wearing the wrong clothes and I know you heard me. There's something I want to talk to you about and not only am I going to look like an idiot dressed like this but there's no privacy because it is a diner, Cooper. A diner."

Jean scraped the grill while Linnet moved the bar stools around, trying to stay close, and Cooper suppressed a smile. Jean wasn't impressed, but her little sister was hanging all over him. He dragged his attention back to Camilla, wondering again how in hell Heydon put up with her. "I know what it is. Your image isn't my problem, and look around, it's just you and me. I don't want to hear anything from you that could be considered private anyway. Eat your lettuce."

She ignored him, casting a glance at the younger of the two sisters who was perched on a bar stool watching them, then forging right on ahead. "You're not even dating are you? You're doing nothing but moping one big mope mope mope because that woman you married went off with Blade and I told you something like that would happen but no, you wouldn't listen and now look at you. You're worse than Tony at least he went back to what's her name the redhead and are you listening to me? I mean, no one ever listens to me except Gabe, and he's probably dead, and Rafe but only when he thinks he has to. But Coop what are you doing?"

If he could leap right over the table at Cammie and throttle her, if he could find a fork and stab her, if he could find a way back, if he knew where she was tonight, if he could find her and tell her everything he'd always wanted to say, if he had an engine big enough to move the world, if he could get that damned woman to shut up, could anyone do that?

He slammed the can of soda across the table, a long slide against mustard and ketchup bang up against all of them, getting in her face, watching her watching him. This one time she was going to back off.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

*****

South Beach: Clock Tower - 10 PM

They'd gotten through an almost silent meal neither of them enjoyed, refusing the dessert, although Beth Stanfield ordered three extra large margaritas and downed them with a kind of grim precision. The charity photographer got the obligatory shots, they smiled, they stopped smiling, and now they stood on the sidewalk avoiding each other.

"Well that was pleasant," she said, not veiling the sarcasm. "I need to call a cab."

Rob knew he should offer to drive her home. He had spent the last two days trying to talk to Alex, who was morose; trying to talk to Duff, who was unexpectedly and ominously obsessed with this damn woman's daughter; and trying not to think about Syd. He couldn't find a way to blame Cooper's wife for Syd, but the parallels were there and the ache went deep, the long raw path was there. It hurt and he was tired of stepping around her. Not that he thought she was capable of responding, but Rob put it out there. "I'm assuming your decision to bid for me was a statement of some sort."

She looked surprised. She stood in the light and put a hand on her hip and looked at him. She'd done something with her hair, she'd put it up, and it was a tell. Maybe she was too old, maybe she didn't know what she wanted. She was pretty good though. She let him stand there and he could clock 60 seconds before she said anything. "I didn't appreciate being put in the middle."

Somebody parked a car behind him, slammed a door, it was cold for this time of year and Cooper Stanfield's bitch wife was telling him she didn't like being in the middle.

"Yet that's what you did to me."

A couple leaving the restaurant paused by the fountain, laughing and flirting, glancing at them. The woman seemed to recognize him and grabbed her companion's arm and pointed. Beth noticed and stepped closer before she whipped a retort back at him. "Excuse me? I purchased a charity date, the same as anyone else who was bidding on it. How have I put you in the middle?"

Either she was oblivious or she was stupid or she was malevolent, and Rob didn't believe she was stupid. It was a stretch to consider her oblivious. He crossed his arms, shivering and trying not to show it since she sure as hell wasn't giving him anything to work with. Bitch, no way she didn't know what she was doing and he was tired and worn down. "Lady, if you're not serious about Alex, leave him the hell alone. Go back to Stanfield, or go back to your bodyguard, you do remember him. Or go home."

Rob heard them before he saw them, and there was no way to fail to know who they were. Camilla and Cooper. Cooper wasn't saying a damn thing, striding down the sidewalk maybe a foot or two ahead of her while she talked, and talked, and talked some more. Once, years ago, he'd had a close encounter with Camilla; she wasn't stupid. She was terrifyingly present and she brought that long and dark family right along with her and used it.

"You could have gone anywhere but that place and even that place would have worked if you had called even an hour maybe not an hour but two hours ahead of time and let me know are you trying to run away from me?"

Beth Stanfield paused in her outrage, turning, stumbling a little on her high heel, maybe those three drinks or maybe she was simply surprised to see Cooper. Camilla looked at her and looked at Cooper and looked at Rob, eyes narrowing as if she suspected somebody had set this up and there would be hell to pay when she figured out who it was. Why? Why ask why, she was another incomprehensible woman.

Cooper grinned and strode forward, long shadow following him, the woman he should have dumped years ago smiling and waiting and looking up at him.. Neither of them said anything, standing under the streetlight and looking at each other until she finally said, "Hi."

He may as well have been invisible. Cooper ignored him. He'd been there once, the woman who was the only damn thing you wanted and needed in the whole wide world. Uncomfortable, Rob walked down the sidewalk, giving them a little space before he looked back at them.

"Hi yourself. Having a good time?"

"Not particularly."

"Want to go somewhere else?"

"Is it far?"

"Not if you know the way."

Rob saw him lace his fingers through hers, saw her return the clasp, a small and intimate and telling gesture, and that exchange must be some kind of code since they both continued to smile at each other although she dropped it pretty damned quick. Not going to get into it tonight, Coop; but he was getting close. Is that all it took? A bad date, a few strong drinks, a couple of insults, Stanfield riding up on his white horse?

Maybe so. He was burned out, past giving a shit, let Alex blow up let it all fall apart. Cooper finally acknowledged him with a nod and a strange long stare Rob didn't understand; he didn't like to admit that the man intimidated him. "I'll see you around."

"Sure. Yeah. Great." And there was the fucking woman from hell descending upon him, fire in her eyes, smoke coming out of her nose. Rob felt uneasily for his car keys. "What about her?"

Cooper leaned toward him, and in a low voice said, "Run."

Studio Time: Eighteen

2011-10-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

49 Windward Cove, Bay View 10:18PM

Dani rinsed her teacup and set it aside. She spent the better part of her day shooting print ads for her signature perfume, and the rest of the day, she was on the phone with her agent discussing the contract for TV commercials. It had been a long day and the only thing she wanted to do was climb into bed and read. Flipping the light switch off, she turned the corner to go upstairs when a shadow at her front door startled her. It didn't take long for her to recognize the silhouette in her doorway and her heart began to pound for a whole other reason.

"Alex, what are you doing here so late?" She opened the door a crack and willed herself to keep from immediately inviting him in.

"I wanted to see your new place, baby. You never did invite me over. Can I come in so you can give me a private tour?"

Dani wrinkled her nose. Alex was stinking drunk but she relented and let him in. She was never able to turn him away. The door shut with a soft click and when she turned around to face him, he slid his hands along her bare arms, kissed her and then attempted to maneuver his way up the stairs. Alex faltered, lost his footing and instead ended up on his ass. Recovering, he propped his leg on the step and grinned. "Why don't we start the tour in your bedroom?"

"Why don't we go upstairs and talk instead? Then I can give you the tour if you still want one." Under any other circumstance she would have jumped at the suggestion. Tonight however, she hesitated.

She led him upstairs and they sat among the pillows she had scattered on the floor. Dani heard about the auction fiasco from some friends. If things were going south with Beth Stanfield, she didn't want to ask but it was the only explanation for him showing up at her door drunk and wanting sex. He hadn't called her since he and Beth had gotten together so what other explanation could there be? Running her fingers along his jaw sent sparks of awareness through her as she turned his face toward her.

"Alex, are you in love with Beth Stanfield - are you considering marrying her? Because, you know, your track record with wives isn't so good. If you decide to marry her because you want to stick it to Cooper, it will only end badly and if you really love her or if she loves you - please think about what you are doing." So much for avoiding the subject but she needed to know.

Alex shifted until his head rested in her lap, looked up at her and laughed. "I'm pretty sure Beth doesn't love me yet but I'm not going to stop trying with her. I just had a minor set back."

"Then why aren't you with her tonight?" Dani twirled a lock of his hair between her fingers.

Alex stretched and exhaled, sending another strong whiff of alcohol at Dani. "Because she is on her 'date' with Rob."

"I see. So you decided the best thing for you to do was come here and sleep with me?" Dani knew Alex well enough to know when he was covering his feelings, hiding the truth. She wasn't sure what was happening, what he was hiding, but she felt a pang of sympathy for the woman she didn't know. He wouldn't be here if he was in love with her.

She stood, walked to the windows that looked out on the ocean and folded her arms. Alex followed, resting his head on top of hers and they stood there for a long time, neither one saying anything.

Dani drew a breath finding the courage to ask what was in her heart for years. "Alex, I want a baby. I've considered a sperm bank but the baby I want is yours. I know you don't want children and I am not asking you to be involved but - you should know I'm not on birth control right now. If we have sex I might possibly get pregnant."

Alex turned her in his arms. "You know me Dani, I always come packing." He tapped the pocket of his jeans and smiled.

She wrenched herself out of his arms and glared. "I'm serious Alex. I'm asking you to father my child. You can walk away afterward - I'm not asking for your commitment or involvement. We can draw up papers and make it legal or whatever. If you say no, I'm sure I can find someone else willing but I want yours." Dani prayed he would buy into that bluff - he was drunk so he might - and if she ran out of options, she would do it, follow through on the threat.

However, if there could have been anything that would have sobered him, Dani was sure that was it. His hands glided slowly down down her arms, a soft caress, until he took her wrists and held them. The feel of his touch ignited her desire for him further, causing her knees to tremble. If he had not been holding her, Dani thought she might collapse under the weight of her desire. She loved him with her every fiber - she would never get him out of her system.

Alex leaned in until their foreheads touched. "Dani, what you're asking - it's complicated."

Their entire relationship had been complicated. She wanted complicated if he was part of the package. "I understand what I am asking of you. Out of all your wives I was the only one you married for love. I know this in my heart. I'm asking you to give me the one thing that will make me happy. Alex, please?"

Studio Time: Seventeen

2011-10-11T05:27:00.000-07:00

This update contains erotic images in the background decor that are sort of explicit. If that bothers you, don't read on.

And we have some Blogger font and formatting issues.

"In an hour? I'm not even home and - I didn't mean it that way -- I wasn't arguing I just said it's a long drive, and I have to change, I'm not dressed for an art gallery..." She walked down to the end of the porch and said whatever she had to say and it wasn't a lot. He didn't mean to listen, he didn't listen, not much he could listen to since she wasn't saying anything back.

It was raining like a son of a bitch, rain coming down through that gutter into the barrel he kicked over once or twice. Somebody told him that barrel was there to keep all that rain from digging itself a trench under the house, but the house was still here about fifty years after old great aunt Cephise died up there in the attic by that window that never did want to open, no trench in all that time. He never did believe it Rain was going to find itself under the house whether it came down the way it wanted to go or some way you thought it ought to go.

Whoever she was talking to, he couldn't find a way to think it was a date kind of call; it sounded like her daddy telling her to come home, and maybe it was. Maybe. He felt the cold through the sweater he'd thrown on thinking he wasn't going to keep it on but it had hadn't worked out that way.

She put the cell down and sat down on the steps, huddled up, grabbing her knees and hanging her head over them.

Jimmy settled himself next to her, taking her fingers, cold and stiff like the way she was sitting there, wrapping his arm around her and she curled them into him and tightened and held on. When you don't know what to say, you say something about the weather. "Lot of bad weather we're getting."

She let it go a long time, letting the cold and dusk slide in, letting the light go down out of the sky. The asshole dog across the street started howling, door slamming, poser who thought he had a wolf dog yelling at the poor damned thing until it shut up and Rayne waiting to say something.

"When I was a little girl," she said, finally saying something, "my mother would wash my hair and make up fairy tales to make it easier, because I didn't like my head dunked in the water." She didn't look at him, but she closed her fingers around his, leaning into him, her shoulder against his. "Her favorite was the lady who made it rain. It would rain when she was sad, whether she wanted it to rain or not, it would rain."

She glanced at him, a flash of warmth, a smile, that bite you in the heart Rennie smile, then she was looking back up at the sky. "Is it a superpower if you can't turn it off? Anyway, that was the Year of Ryan. Whatever was going on between them, my mother wasn't happy, and it rained all the time, so maybe she was making it rain."

bbbbb
Her momma was making something but it wasn't rain. He held off, knowing Rennie's deal with her momma was fucked up, but this wasn't right, uneasy, cold, the boards wet under his jeans, the light fading into a place he couldn't go. He'd thrown a spread last night, and he'd seen the Eight of Wands and the Tower and the Five of Cups, all of them calling down an ending. Jimmy lit a cigarette, fighting with the lighter that was about done but the toaster still worked. If he had a toaster, he could light himself a cigarette.
Then she got up.

She got up, not looking at him, and walked toward the door, still hanging open, no need to push on it.

Sitting there in the wet he watched her turn in the light. She was always such a pretty girl. "I have to go, Toad. I'll call you."

South Beach - Southeast Metro: Six Gallery 9 PM

Impatiently, Duff paced the length of the gallery. He'd known the owner for a few years, a Dom he'd paid handsomely for a two hour private showing with the idea that he would push Rayne a little further. She was late by thirty minutes. It would take considerable restraint on his part to forgive her tardiness and he would make it a point to instruct her on his expectations. Duff considered lighting one of the Cuban cigars and contemplated what he would like to do with it. He resumed pacing; if he thought she would not be worth the wait, he would have been long gone.

Glancing toward the entrance, he saw Rayne hurrying up the walkway. Her hair was haphazardly pinned up and strands of it fell loosely around her face and neck. When she saw him, her lips curved into a pleasurable smile. The urge to pull the pins from her hair and let it fall loosely around her bare shoulders as he bared her breasts aroused him.

Duff forced himself not to meet her halfway and, not for the first time, questioned who was mastering who. As she stood before him, he assessed her from head to toe before meeting her gaze with his own.
"I couldn't find a parking place, I thought you said this place was midtown, it's southeast, you can never find a place to park." She sounded breathless and irritated and she looked back at the street and frowned. "I'm going to get a ticket and I have a couple of them already."

Duff watched her fret, young and pretty and worried about parking tickets, her cheeks flushed. He considered offering to relieve her concern, and decided against it.

"You should pay your tickets."

"I know I should. My dad used to pay them but I think he's done with that. What is this place? I know all the art galleries on the east side but not this one. And if they boot my car - "

Relenting, captivated, amused, he took her arm, waiting for her to turn to him, to rely on him, only him. She wasn't there, not yet.

“Why are you here Rayne?”

She responded with a quick laugh.“You invited me, that’s why.”

Pulling away, releasing his hold on her, Duff crossed his arms. “Perhaps I should reconsider inviting you in the future. Go home.”

Obviously disconcerted, Rayne paused, studying him, touching her hair, her body language uneasy. “Why - because I was a little late? Sorry...”

Duff put up a hand to stop her. “If you had any discipline, you would have been here precisely when I expected you.”

Rayne smiled coyly as if expecting her charm would assuage his temper. “What are you going to do, take me over your knee and spank me like a little girl?”

Gripping her arms, Duff slowly backed her into the wall. He moved as far into her personal space as he dared and placed a hand on the wall beside her. Leaning in so that their lips were nearly touching he whispered, “I’d consider it but you might enjoy it too much.”

She drew a hard breath, and Duff saw her pupils dilate in what he assumed was arousal, the silk of her mouth brushed against his, and then she violently and unexpectedly ripped out of his grasp. She'd been trained, and by someone who knew what he was doing. Caught off balance, Duff released her, he had no choice but to release her and he felt the pain in his wrist where she had twisted it when she broke free.

Rayne glared up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes alight, and she put one hand on his shoulder and slid it down his chest, then fisted his shirt and hissed up at him. "Maybe you’ll reconsider asking me? Maybe I’ll reconsider accepting. I'm walking right out that door and you don't have a whistle big enough to call me back."

Duff faltered. Her outburst was unexpected; if he let her go, it was over. He couldn’t chase her; he would not chase her. She didn’t want to leave, if she had she would have been gone but instead she hesitated. She turned in the doorway and looked back at him, waiting, poised to run but still she waited. If he let her go, she wouldn't come back, he needed to adjust his tactics.

He smiled, slowly walked toward her, took her hand, slid his hands through her hair, such a surfeit of silk. “Rayne...I’ve disappointed you. Do you think me harsh? Did you want to stay?"

Sliding his hand around her neck and weaving his fingers through her hair, he gently drew her closer. Leaning in he cautiously kissed her and when she didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss.

“This time I might let it go. Only this time, this one time il mio dolce, because I want you...” pausing, his mouth moved sensually against hers, who was the lion, who was the lamb, would he have left, would he, would he take the door out without her, no. "I want you to stay.”

Studio Time: Sixteen

2011-06-22T02:05:00.000-07:00

South Beach - La Pietra Fontana: 9 PM

Duff had selected a private table near the balcony and watched as she made her way toward him. He approved of the way she moved and of the way she dressed. She stood there, searching the room, finding him, and there was a moment when she faltered and then quickly threw on that air of confidence. Of course she would, he would have expected nothing less. He stood when Rayne reached their table.

“Hello, Rayne. It is a pleasure to finally meet.”

She sat down, sat back, and, crossing her long legs, studied him. She had put up her hair. The earrings she wore swung against her neck, the gems rhodolite, or perhaps amethyst, set in gold. She watched him. “I guess that means you knew who I was before you bid on me.”

Duff narrowed his eyes slightly and watched her through steepled fingers. She thought she was in control, a feint, bravado, so young, she had no idea what she was doing but she was testing him, trying to find a way out. It was perfect, adorable. He offered a slow smile, a quick sweep of his eyes before allowing them to linger at her breasts and then answered simply. “You're Cooper Stanfield's daughter.”

“Oh, right, I'm Cooper's daughter, that's why you embarrassed me by bidding fifty thousand dollars for a stupid charity date.” She shifted in her chair, obviously fully aware of his gaze and perhaps uncomfortable with the effect it had on her. Her nipples pebbled under the yellow silk. She folded her arms across her chest. Duff smiled.

“Did it embarrass you?”

“My boyfriend was going to bid on me.” It wasn't an answer; it was another attack.

“I see. Your boyfriend was embarrassed.” He leaned forward. He kept his voice soft, low and seductive. “Rayne, your boyfriend was going to lose the bid. I’m sorry if I caused you any discomfort, but I am not apologizing for outbidding Jimmy Breaux.”

The waiter filled the water glasses and offered a menu, which Duff waved away.

“You're the one who put the rose in my guitar case.”

Duff smiled, remembering the effort involved in that gesture. “That was not easy to do.”

She stared at him, a long uneasy but very direct stare, her slender fingers pressed against her cheek; she was nervous and trying not to show it. “You're pretty good on the bass. You're very good, and you've got an incredible voice, and Flight is a top band. If you wanted to meet me, you could have come up and said something. I don't know why you thought you needed to sneak flowers into my guitar case.”

The sommelier approached. Duff ordered, glancing at her, changed the order and settled back again. She’d chosen an interesting and confrontational verb, still transparently attempting to force him into defending himself. “I didn't need to do it, Rayne. I chose to do it. Did that embarrass you, too?”

She looked up at the wine steward, lifting her chin, the long elegant curve of her bare neck candlelit and lovely, then turned her gaze back at him. “It didn't embarrass me. I just thought it was strange. And I don't like wine.”

Duff threw a sharp look at her. He would allow her some room but that direct challenge went too far. She would not order for herself or countermand an order he made, and he intended to make her understand her preferences were subject to his final decision. “I didn't order wine for you.”

Duff meticulously ordered the rest of their meal, a lobster salad with beans, apple and avocado, marinated shrimp in a champagne beurre blanc, tea-smoked duck with pears and a cherry-apricot cream cheese tart.

He watched Rayne enjoy each taste sensation, the delight on her face with every bite. When the meal was done, he sipped a cognac while she had an espresso.

Finally Duff stood, reached down and drew his hand across her shoulder, gently forcing her up out of the chair, judging how willingly she moved: with some hesitation, but she followed his lead. “Come.” Rayne looked up at him with delicate uncertainty. He had her off balance and he intended to keep her that way until she acknowledged him, until she made no move without asking his permission.

He tightened his grip on her arm. Rayne didn't pull away but she aimed a hot, uneasy look at him. “Are we going somewhere?”

Duff permitted the question this time. The next time she would simply follow. “Yes, we are. You’re not afraid, are you, Rayne?”

Wary, guarded, earrings fluttering against the pulse on her bare neck, still she acquiesced. “No.”

South Beach - Old Regency Park: 11 PM

Pleased that she didn’t hesitate to accompany him, that she felt a certain sense of trust, he helped Rayne into his Jag and headed toward Old Regency Park. Pulling over at the entrance, Duff helped her out of the car and steered her toward the heart of the park, a private garden abundant with climbing roses, night blooming jasmine, honeysuckle, gardenia and bougainvillea. Opening a vine-covered gate Duff led her to the center of the lush gardens. He watched as she slowly turned and took in her surroundings. She breathed deeply a few times, the thin fabric of her dress hugging and outlining her breasts, and touched the blossoms on the wall before turning her attention back to him, alight, entranced, enraptured.

“This is beautiful! The colors, the flowers, the scent, it’s amazing!” She laughed and turned on one long leg and looked back at him. Blooming in the garden, lit and backlit, everything he had anticipated and more.

Clasping his hands behind his back Duff moved toward her taking graceful smooth strides as he considered his next move. She was as ripe for the plucking as the fruit that hung from the branches of the trees in this garden and Duff could feel the tightening of his erection. Drawing a breath, chastising himself for getting ahead of the game, Duff moved close to her and breathed into her hair. “I can teach you to fully appreciate all of your senses. Close your eyes, Rayne. Keep them closed until I tell you otherwise. I want you to experience the beauty of this garden with only my voice to guide you.”

A slow shiver overtook Rayne and her skin was covered in goose bumps. She parted her lips slightly, glanced over at him, her voice tentative, barely a whisper. “All right.” Closing her eyes, Rayne waited and Duff moved in.

Duff continued to slowly circle around her watching her reactions as he described the garden, its fragrance, the warm damp air as it caressed her skin. “Without your eyes to guide you, your other senses are heightened. Your sense of smell and hearing.” He moved closer to her, placing a few more seductive words in her ear, then backed off and moved in another direction to keep her off balance.

“Can you feel my presence, Rayne? Where am I? Can you sense the heat of my body, my scent? Listen, try to find me.” Duff watched as her breath came a bit more rapidly but she never flinched or made any attempt to open her eyes. She was being a very obedient girl. He would test her just a little further, any more and he might lose control and that was not something he wanted. Not now when he was so close.

Duff plucked a stem of jasmine and moved quietly toward her. Rayne’s head turned from side to side as if trying to sense where he was. Pulling a blossom from the stem, he crushed it between his fingers. The flower coated his fingers with its scent and Duff waved it under her nose.

“Breathe.” His voice was more commanding. She followed his instructions and inhaled the fragrance. “Part your lips for me, Rayne.” She hesitated but complied. Duff stroked his finger gently along her lips leaving the juice from the bloom on them. The heat of her breath against his fingers was almost too much to bear. Duff licked his lips. He wanted her right here on a carpet of grass, out in the open. A goddess standing naked in the night, his and only his to command.

“Be still,” he whispered, and without hesitation he leaned in and kissed her.

Sandy Point - 1100 Bridge Pass: 1 AM

All through the long drive back to her place Rayne had gone over every single detail of her date. She was still reeling from the sensations, the excitement and especially from the way her body responded to him. When Duff had kissed her she felt his erection pressing against her thigh. She should have pulled away but instead she leaned in, rubbed against him intimately and returned the kiss with equal ardor. It had been crazy. And hot.

She looked down at the dog. It was looking up at her as if it knew what she’d done and expected an explanation. She wished she had one. "That was a weird date. You think I should tell Toad all about it? No, I don't either. I don't think I should tell anyone about it ."

She picked up a glass, fumbled with the faucet, filled the glass half way and then dropped it with a crash. Broken glass glittered in the sink. Too shaky to clean it up, Rayne left it there.

Rayne let her dress slide down to the floor, a silken caress, and moved to the mirror. Her body hummed, an erotic and sensual rhythm pulsed inside her, a restless longing for something she didn’t quite understand. Was this the same thrill that Randi had talked about? As she looked at her reflection Rayne could almost imagine Duff standing behind her, dark and dangerous, possessively running his hands along her body and his velvet voice commanding a physical response. Raw heat of arousal shook her creating tremors of sheer sexual tension. Her breath caught in her throat it was so powerful.

The steady purr of her phone slowly brought her down to earth and Rayne moved on unsteady legs to answer it. “Hello?”

“Rayne...”

The smooth timbre of his voice poured over her, saying her name the way he did, possessing it, it left her undone. She felt it cascade down her body past her breasts, stomach, and down her legs to her bare toes. Unsure if she could even speak let alone stand, Rayne sat down on her bed. Her bed...her mind racing ahead...She dug in hard, found the hard edge of the bed frame, dug her nails into her thigh and held on. “Yes?”

Practicing what he taught her, Rayne closed her eyes and lay back. She heard the faint sound of classical music in the background and some other sound she couldn’t quite make out, maybe a low hum. She caught a slight hitch in his breathing as she waited for him to speak.

“Until our next time - have pleasant dreams il mio dolce.”

“Don’t hang up - talk to me.”

"Good night, Rayne."

------------------

Wyatt's Story: Rise Above This

2011-05-19T12:31:00.000-07:00

This update takes you out of both the timeline and Studio Time into the sidestory Rising Above. It is the finale for that story, and it is directly related to the previous update here. Pardon the interruption and please indulge us: if we didn't consider it important, we wouldn't link it from this blog. This is probably the last time we bounce around. Thanks!

Rising Above

Studio Time: Fifteen

2011-05-18T11:10:00.000-07:00

Cooper wove his way through the chaos and moved toward Sydney, who appeared to be losing control of everything. It was an uncharacteristic sight. Her assistants were running around after people, giving orders to hotel employees, and throwing tentative looks at Syd as though she would snap their heads off if they didn’t keep things contained.

It was a blessing in disguise for Cooper. He hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place; Hugs got her ballerinas or something like ballerinas, he'd done that much for her. He wanted to get the hell out of here. Gracefully get the hell out of here. No power, that was a perfect reason to split. With Hugs trailing behind, Cooper walked over to Syd and stood between her and her way out, blocking her, if that was possible.

"Look, I apologize, but I think I'm going to have to bail out on you. My daughter is frightened, I want to get her out of here."

Sydney glanced down at Hugs and then fixed that typical patronizing smile on her face as she shifted her attention back to him. "Cooper, I'm moving the stage indoors, there will be a slight delay, but I'd prefer that you honor your commitment. I have some unexpected problems - "

Thunder rattled the roof: a long and very close strike, rain pounding down and he was long past giving her an excuse to leave. Hugs had climbed up on a chair and curled up there hanging onto her toy, startling with every blast of thunder. He cut her off. “That’s not going to work for me. I said I’m leaving. I'll write you a check."

"That isn't the...I won't be able to put together the same kind of audience again if you walk off. Can't she sit in the corner for half an hour? My assistant can entertain her."

Cooper bit back the words he wanted to throw at Syd, could she sit in a corner, no fucking way, tried not to lose his composure in front of Hugs. That would frighten her even more. His mouth stiff, he pointed out the obvious. “Your audience is already leaving, Sydney. I doubt they would care.”

The door crashed open, swung hard against the wall by the little boy who kicked it before running off into the dark, airless and crowded room. Right behind him, but making no attempt to capture him, was his mother. Camilla looked at Sydney and pushed into the middle and scanned them, a search and destroy move he knew usually preceded one of her incomprehensible linguistic attacks. You couldn’t escape. No one could escape. He couldn't breathe in this place, wanted out, wanted to call Beth and ask why she'd done what she'd done, wondered uneasily what Camilla was about to do, while the light flickered and the heat broke sweat under his arms.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Oh for heavens sake Sydney you know I could hear you all the way across the whole place let's just bid on him right now see here's a person and sweetie grab that other lady over there hi yes stand right here you like Cooper don't you? Coop, smile or something. Ok, we're bidding Heydon said I could spend up to $75 thousand if someone odd bid on Coop so that's my bid even though nobody odd actually bid on him. You girls are NOT bidding, do not do that. Nobody else bids. It's all done and we can go home because it is really hot and I'm not wearing waterproof mascara."

Hugs stared at her, peeping up over the bunny. Syd stared at her. The women she'd grabbed stared at her, until one of them started flirting with him. Cooper found his voice. "Uh, thanks, Cam."

"You're welcome." Camilla glanced down at Hugs and smiled. "You're getting so big and you are so cute. Fortunately you look like your father. Cooper you have to do something with her hair though and I am getting out of here thank you ladies and you, I like your dress it is an inspiring dress. Bye bye.”

“Jay!” Camilla surveyed the room, looking irritable and impatient. “I’m leaving and you will walk all the way back in the dark all by yourself and fall off that cliff if you don’t come here right this -- oh there you are and put that down that’s alcoholic."

Done with this, Cooper picked up Hugs and carried her through the courtyard, empty and rain driven and dark, his little girl clinging to his neck and the damned stuffed toy bumping his back. The car he'd ordered was late, the driver claiming the lights were out, traffic backed up, all the usual crap when one of these storms slammed through.

He moved up against the minimal shelter of the wall near the street and put her down. It was going to be a long drive back, and he was pierced through, long aching pain, wishing he could simply take her and go home. This was a piece of shit, all of it, sitting out here in the rain with nothing he wanted and his little girl was scared. "Don’t worry, baby girl. The car will be here any minute now."

Hugs looked up at him, solemn and quiet and intent. "Daddy, I didn't give Mommy the note."

He was trying to shield her against the rain, watching the street, not listening. "What note, sweetheart?"

The car pulled up to the curb throwing a spray of dirty water into the air, settling, idling, lights on. Relieved, Cooper looked back at her, his attention still elsewhere, should he try to go all the way back up into the front range, should he try to book a suite in a hotel, was the power down throughout the city. “We have to go, you can tell me later.”

"No, I have to tell you now.” She pulled back, pulling hard on his hand, face turned up in the dark and driving rain and the bunny dumped in a puddle behind her. The driver honked the horn. Someone came out of the main lobby and flashed a camera at them, he tried to move between the camera and his daughter while she still resisted and in the strongest voice he had ever heard her use, pleaded with him. “Daddy! It’s the one with the music on it. It got wet when Bunny fell in the fountain and it got all messy and it's under my bed. I’m sorry. Is that why you don't come home?"

Studio Time: Fourteen

2011-05-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

There was nothing wrong with his shirt. Uneasy and on edge, Alex waited, trying to catch whatever was going on between Rob and Syd and a breath from an open window. It was sultry, uncomfortable, lightning in the clouds over the marina and an inadequately cooled and ventilated room. Duff walked in wearing that same damed smug expression he always had when he thought he had something remarkable to take back and work over. He'd had a couple of encounters with Duff's dream girl. Good luck with that piece of ass. She came with a mouth and an attitude to dress up those legs and tits and if he got past that load, she came packed with Cooper. Someone should turn up the AC in this place...Camilla giving him a strange look as she grabbed a manhattan and went somewhere else more interesting but that woman was always strange.

"Rob Porter!" Sydney was screaming. Rob walked out onto the stage, not looking at him, looking at nothing, and sat down on a bar stool. He hooked one leg into the rungs, shifted his shoulders under the suit jacket, straightening it, and, being Rob, did nothing else. He lit up the stage by doing nothing but sitting on a damned bar stool. The overhang and the walled courtyard protected him and the audience from the worst of the rain, but the wind was picking up. They'd have to move things inside before long.

"Blade?"

Distracted, he looked down, one of Syd's assistants saying something to him, another crack of lightning striking directly overhead and through the thunder he heard Syd. "The lady knows what she wants! Duff, if you're still here, you certainly set the precedent! Date package for Rob sold to Beth Stanfield!"

The lights flickered, hummed, and went dark.

~~~

Rob shoved the curtains aside, took two quick strides down into the dark off the stage. He stumbled.

"What the fuck is that?! What the hell is going on?! You set this up!" Alex was beyond enraged as he confronted his friend with a quick shove. Whose side was he on, Cooper’s? He sure as hell wasn’t on his. He took a quick look outside, but he couldn’t see one damned thing through the rain. If she planned this, if Cooper was waiting out there with a big grin on his face, no he couldn’t believe she had, she’d been coming onto him. It made no sense in hell, none of it.

Rob was wet. Picky as ever, he ran his hands through his hair, cool cold collected Rob, some of that control running right down his face along with the rain. Losing it, he turned and snarled like a little white cat. "I didn't set up shit! Ask your god-damned girlfriend what's going on! I'm through. I'm getting out of here. For once in your life, you deal with it."

Alex roughly grabbed Rob’s arm, stopped him from walking away, Rob glaring at him, glancing down at his hand and then up again. The dim light flashed red on those damned rings in his lower lip. Lindsey had encouraged him to pierce his lip, and the memory of that old betrayal stirred, knotting in his stomach. It hadn't been Rob, though. Rob wouldn't, but he had this time. “I know you, Rob. You don’t like it when I get involved, I get that, but I know what I’m doing with this one. You stepped way out of line here!”

Syd tried to intervene but Alex brushed her grasp off. "Alex, I'm sure - "

"Sure of what, Syd? Sure you can get him to hop when you yell rabbit? Were you in on this? I'm out of here, fuck both of you!"

Syd turned to Rob, beseeching, ”Rob, he can’t walk out! Isn't there something you can do?”

Rob looked at her as though he had not heard a word, some kind of half grin on his face and then turned, walking out into the storm.

”Rob!” Sydney stood in the open door. People were grabbing their cocktails, pushing in out of the rain, and some of them were beginning to stare. ”Rob, please, do something!”

Without looking back he retorted, “I just did.”

And in one unbelievable desperate moment, Syd looked at Alex. She was fighting for control, and she looked pathetic. "Alex?"

On his way out the door, rain dripping down his neck, rage riding him hard, ripping up ground he thought he'd forgotten, Alex turned back and laughed at her. As angry as he was, it was time Rob walked away from that. "Bitch, don't look at me to save your little party."

~~~

Cooper stood on the upper level looking down. It was hard to control the grin that spread as he watched Beth walk away. He'd spent the last hour in the private bar, avoiding the damned auction, refusing to acknowledge anyone who approached him with any update on any of it, not even when something interesting apparently happened with Rayne. If it was important, he would deal with it later. Then the storm kicked up off the marina and he stepped outside briefly, intending to check on Hugs when he stopped and decided to observe from a distance.

He hadn’t expected her to bid on him, but bidding on Rob...how in hell had she come up with that? She was making some kind of statement, one he was certain was directed at him as much as Alex. Leaning into the rain, watching her walk away, ignoring the storm, owning the storm, watching Alex running around looking like he suddenly realized he'd stepped into the direct path of the lightning bolt...

Fucking priceless.

Studio Time: Thirteen

2011-05-15T16:02:00.000-07:00

She arrived late, slipped in through the riverfront courtyard, and stood shadowed by a pot of flowers while waiting, Rob suspected, not for Alex but for Cooper. And, as if he knew exactly where she was and when she planned to be there, the man everyone was really there to see strode up from behind her and took her arm and steered her off into another side room. "I need a word with you in private."

Rob had no qualms about eavesdropping, a moral issue he considered particularly prissy. The window was open; whatever came out of it was his to use; and moving close enough to overhear without being seen or heard was no challenge at all, something he could do in his sleep. Stepping carefully into the flowers, sliding past the window frame, the sprinkler, one boot to the left of it, idly wondering what idiot put ground floor windows with no guards in an upscale hotel, and sort of making a note to himself about it, Rob slid right up in there. He couldn't see them clearly, but he heard Coop's rough voice through the window and useless curtains. "The baby's not mine."

What baby? There was another woman with a possible baby? Uneasy, a woman with or without baby complicated things, Rob risked taking a half step closer. "Hey man, have you seen Beth? She was supposed to be here half an hour ago."

Startled, he drew a quick breath, swore silently, and turned without losing his footing and looked at the agitated and restless frontman for the band he had tried so hard to hold together. Rob stepped into Alex’s space, forcing him back away from the window, blocking him. "I don't know, Alex. Maybe she's picking up her kid. She might consider her kids more important than you are. You do realize that, don’t you?"

Alex stared at him, opened his mouth to say something, undoubtedly something pretty raw judging from his expression, when Sydney swept up and put her hand on his shoulder and announced, "We must do something with that shirt, Alex. Did you spill a drink? I can't let you go out wearing that, come on, come over here with me."

He tried to shrug her off, failed, Syd slicing a hole in the air with her smile and digging into his shoulder with her nails. Relenting, Alex went along with her, shooting one angry look back as he walked away, leaving Rob to breathe again. For a moment, until the door opened on Cooper and his lovely and annoying wife.

Cooper looked drawn but relieved. The woman looked blank. She had less expression than any human being he'd ever seen, nothing but eyes and nose and mouth painted on a skin mask. Cooper spoke her name. Coming from him, he owned it.

She lifted her face, looking up at Cooper. Then, disconcertingly, he realized she was looking directly at him now. And the lights went on. She smiled. She smiled at him, and she looked at Stanfield and smiled at him and said something soft and then walked away from both of them down the length of the room and back out the door. If she was taking her child and going home, Rob was going to have trouble keeping Alex here. He'd hoped she would simply bid on her damned husband and end it. It did not look as though that was going to happen. He didn’t know what she’d done or what was going on or why she’d looked at him like that.

Cooper took two long strides toward him and stopped, remaining protected from view in the shadows. He stood there, weight on one leg, poised, watching him. Rob rocked back, off balance, and met the man's gaze. Help me out here...go get your woman...do something. Cooper held him there for a few long silent strange seconds, then nodded briefly, turned his back and left. Rob watched him disappear into the night, whether he was going after her or going back to the private bar, Rob had no clue.

Shaking it off Rob moved toward the stage. He needed to keep Alex in line, keep him focused on anything other than Beth Stanfield. There, directly in his line of sight was Charlie Pera, that smug grin on his face as he watched Rob. Pulling Sydney into his body he kissed her, whispered something in her ear and guided her back stage. She made an attempt to shake off his grip and then acquiesced, allowing him to control her.

Rob was torn between tearing after her, taking her out of here and not letting her go or walking away all together. One thing was certain, this thing with Sydney - he was done with the cat and mouse game. He looked to where she had gone and, determined to get her to commit one way or another, Rob followed her in.

"He's changing." Breathless, watching something off to the side, Sydney brushed at her dress and asked, "What's going on?"

Rob saw Charlie Pera, still hanging around, striding across the room like the thousand pound gorilla he was, tossing one last smile in his direction before he picked up a drink and left. Alex was changing his shirt just like he changed women, dropping everyone else in the process. Maybe somehow he could keep the band together. Maybe he could keep something he cared about out of this whole damned mess, but he couldn’t claw at Syd and Alex and Shooter and Duff and keep all of it. He’d never really had her. Give it up, recognize when you’ve risked and lost. He glared down at her. "Do you think I care about Alex's shirt? What the hell is your husband doing here?"

Someone had stacked up a pile of clothes and a rack and propped a mirror in the middle. It wasn’t like Syd to be disorganized or to put up with it but she didn’t look at it. She grabbed at the side of the mirror and glanced past him, a glance that hurt, she was checking, making sure Charlie didn’t see them. "I didn't know he would be here. He won't stay. He never does."

Laughter and noise filtered in from the patio, lights turned down again. In a few minutes he'd be up on that stage going through a charade that did not come anywhere close to the one he'd been struggling with for years. Fun and games at first, before the whole Syd’s boy toy, Syd’s bedside drawer appliance, all of it, corroded and leaked and burned. It wasn’t Sydney but she did nothing to put an end to it. Not a word, not one word. Rob watched her, moving in slowly, but this time was the last time. "Syd, I can't do this anymore. Whether he's here in the flesh or in China or wherever the hell he is, he's not the one who stays. You are.”

Sydney did not move. She wasn’t as blank as Beth Stanfield had been, but there wasn’t much in her face. Rob tried to feel some sympathy for her because this was, after all, apparently what she wanted more than she wanted him, the spotlights and the assistants and all of it. “Thanks,” he told her, and he meant it. He did appreciate it. “Thanks for what you did with Alex."

Rob waited for her to do something, anything, even if it was only to walk away. Did she still see the alley cat, the thief, not what he had become? If that was true his heart truly would shatter. And if went down like that, if it did, like everything else, he would carefully control that catastrophic event, the same way he always fought to control every damned thing, all of it, keep it from spiraling into chaos, the people around him, everything. Except for her.

“Rob, please, I have to go. Can we talk about this later? Tonight?”

“Is there anything left to say?” Rob turned, took one painful step and then another and disappeared into the crowd. He drew a deep breath and focused his attention on Rayne who had just walked on stage because he had to focus it somewhere.

“Me, I’m gonna bid on you.”

"Toad don't, you can't afford - " Rob watched as Rayne hung back, stalling, one foot on the stage and the other behind the curtain while the boyfriend held on to his pretty delusions.

The boyfriend aimed a long rank smile at the assembled crowd, blinked, and hesitated, maybe realizing how far out of his element he really was and took a step back behind the curtain. Rob shared one uncomfortable glance with him before Jimmy hunched his shoulders and strode off out the door.

Sydney worked the crowd, starting the bidding at $1000 just like Wyatt. People were bidding, $2000, $3000 and it kept going. Jimmy, who had come around to the front of the stage, bid $12,000. No doubt his total take for the year from his contract, if it was a generous contract, a very generous contract.

“Can I get $13,000,” Sydney was saying. Rayne worked the lights, strode further down the stage, walking through hot lights, over them. Rob watched, watching to do something, watching because he had to do something, watching the girl as she stepped on the light, picked up her foot and put it right back down on the same light, a deliberate destructive step. She stepped on the footlight as if she wanted to put the heel of her boot right through the glass into the lamp. Crushing the lamp. Beheading the lamp. The wind picked up, blowing, whistling in the wind tunnel and lifting her hair off her neck. All around people laughed, a door closed, and glass clinked against another glass....

Beyond the reach of the light, in the dark, in the shadow, ignoring the paddle, one deep European voice: “Fifty thousand.”

Duff. The free radical he had not anticipated. Rob drew a long resigned breath....fuck....

Studio Time: Twelve

2011-05-07T18:02:00.000-07:00

South Beach: The Harbor Hotel - 6 PM

Sydney slid her cell into the pocket of her skirt and hurried down the stairs to get changed. Reaching a small sitting room she paused and then slowly approached the window that looked out on the patio. That was where the auction was being held. Her co-chair had done the first group of celebrities and Syd would do the last, the heavy hitters, the ones where Sydney’s talent for getting what she wanted would come into play and she wanted this afternoon to be a success.

And Sydney always got what she wanted. Peering out through the filmy curtains she watched Rob as he chatted up her guests. Well maybe she didn’t get everything...

“I don’t suppose as the committee chair you’re allowed to bid on the beefcake are you my love?”

Whirling around, Sydney came face to face with her husband. His presence was not something she had anticipated, nor was she prepared to deal with him now, not now, not with Rob turning away and Cooper throwing a tantrum over his child's ridiculous expectations and she still had to attempt to sell a date with his awful older daughter. They’d had a silent agreement - they didn’t discuss or acknowledge their liaisons outside the marriage. Why would Charlie decide to bring hers up now? Humidity and nerves sweating into her hair and her blouse, Syd’s radar flashed into full alert. Damp radar. Dripping and foggy radar. “What do you want, Charlie?”

Charlie’s laugh had always been dark and sexy. It started deep inside him and bubbled to the surface as he leaned against the wall. “Can’t I take an interest in my wife’s affairs? Perhaps that was a bad choice of words - I should say your interests shouldn’t I...that would be more appropriate.”

“I don’t have time for this Charlie - why are you here?”

Charlie’s eyes drifted to the side and, when he didn’t immediately answer, Sydney quickly glanced over to see what caught his attention. A woman, of course. Camilla Lombardo, much more woman than Syd thought he could handle but he was still looking like a man who would be willing to try. He answered her, voice like the deep purr of a large predatory cat as he continued to watch Camilla. “Perhaps I should be more involved in your little causes Sydney.”

Her mouth lifted slightly at the corners, her mask solidly in place as she approached him. Sydney would not be baited, not tonight. Smoothing the lapel on his Armani jacket she responded. “Of course darling, I’ll send the itinerary of upcoming events to your personal secretary. It will require a great deal of your personal time. You’ll have to cancel your next few trips to China. Now be a love and kiss my cheek; I’ve got some beefcake to sell.”

8 PM

Wyatt peered out from behind the curtain and scanned the crowd, mostly women with a few scattered men, and wondered who would end up with him as the prize. He discussed the auction with Cadence and she hadn’t been at all concerned over the idea of women bidding on him. Wyatt thought she’d be somewhat jealous and possessive at the thought of him on a “date” with someone else but Cade had simply laughed it off. It was a hit to his ego but she was right, he didn’t want anyone but her.

He let his eyes wander once more over the crowd. There was a mix of women of various ages from young to older and more mature. Society’s best, he figured, at an annual event where idle rich could play out their fantasies buying celebrities for a dream date. Wyatt had to admit that he was even caught up in the idea. His package included dinner at Caprice and a midnight cruise. He just hoped he didn’t end up with someone old enough to be his grandmother.

Sydney Pera had been working the crowd like a pro as far as Wyatt could tell. There was an unlimited supply of food on the buffet tables and liquor was being poured in abundance at every bar. Waiters and waitresses moved through the crowd with trays and encouraged the guests to drink up.

Syd had lined up fifteen celebrities in all and although this was Wyatt’s first time at an event like this, it seemed to be going off without a hitch. She had raised quite a bit of money already with the first ten and still had the big guns waiting in the wings. Wyatt was number eleven. As Sydney introduced him, Wyatt strode out from behind the curtains and made his way down the catwalk.

He was all smiles as he strutted his stuff while she encouraged the bidding to go higher and higher. “Come on now ladies...this is the first in our trifecta of Stanfields...let me hear an opening bid of at least one thousand.” The bidding kept going as Wyatt continued to walk up and down. He flirted with a few of the women up front, making eye contact, smiling, encouraging the bids as paddle after paddle was raised.

“I’ve got four thousand in the back, can I get forty-five? This is for dinner and a midnight cruise ladies with a charming young man and rising rock star. There’s forty-five, now can I get five thousand?” Sydney scanned the crowd and urged the bidding to go higher using the charity as her hook. Finally the bidding had reached seventy-five hundred and the crowd had hushed as Syd asked for any other bids. “I have seventy-five hundred going once...twice...I have eight!”

Syd appealed to their sense of goodwill driving the bid higher until she was at 10,500. When it came to getting what she wanted in this arena Sydney was a pro. “Last chance ladies...I have 10,500. There is 10, 750...I see 11,000...going once...twice...sold to the lady holding paddle 162! Thank you!”

Wyatt couldn’t believe he’d been sold for eleven thousand dollars. He looked out at the woman holding paddle 162 trying to see if he recognized her. She looked reasonably young but she wore sunglasses and a large hat to shade her fair skin. As he moved back to the staging area he couldn’t let it go - he’d meet her soon enough on their date but her identity nagged at him.

Circling around Wyatt approached the woman who was taking the checks and logging each transaction. She was sitting at a table away from the main stage. “Excuse me, could you tell me who that was...the woman who purchased me...paddle 162?” Wyatt threw her a charming smile and waited.

“Of course, just one moment...” she looked on her clipboard dragging a polished fingernail down the list until she found the name. “Yes, here it is, a Mrs. J. Michaels.” She looked up at Wyatt and returned the smile. “We’ll be handing out the date packages at the end of the evening with all the details.”

Wyatt had never heard of her. “Okay, thanks.”

Heading through the side door he ran directly into his sister. She stood in his way, looking intent, looking like Girl with a Mission, looking like Rayne at a moment he didn’t really want to deal with Rayne. “Wyatt, can I ask you something personal?”

As if she wouldn’t if he said no? Wyatt, wary as usual, wondering what was on her mind this time, distracted by the mysterious Mrs. Michaels, considered coming up an excuse then gave up. “I guess so.”

Rayne glanced around, but except for a couple of women making coffee and Jimmy Breaux who was staring out an open window and smoking right under a ‘no smoking’ sign, they were alone. “Gemma had her baby but I think you know that already. I can't get Dad to talk to me about it at all, but I sort of think that if it was his, we would have heard something. It...umm..it wouldn't possibly be yours, would it, Wy?”

For an instant Wyatt couldn’t speak. Stunned speechless and his mind scurrying back what, why would she think that, there was that one time but she didn't know about that and he'd left walked out nothing had happened NOTHING had gone down nothing like that. Creeped out, watching Jimmy still smoking, he went back at her. “No! No way! Are you crazy? She's my mom's cousin!” He drew breath, trying to remember the second part of the thing. His father. They all knew something had gone down between him and Gemma, another reason his skin crawled thinking about the woman now. "You leave Dad alone, Rayne. Stay out of it, quit bugging him, he's got a lot of shit to deal with, fucking drop it."

She glanced down the length of the room and narrowed her eyes and stepped closer and said, "If it’s not his and it’s not yours, I don’t care whose baby it is, but people saw you with her and it looked like something was going on. So, I am not crazy for asking. And I'm not bugging Dad; I have game in this and you know it.” Rayne knocked one high heeled boot against the other as she watched Jimmy grind out his smoke and start towards them and aimed a different expression in his direction. “By the way, who's that woman who bought your date?”

“Yeah, well, keep your nose out of it.” An uneasy feeling came over Wyatt at the question. He still didn’t know who this Mrs. Michaels was, but he felt like he should. “I don't know who she is; I couldn't even get a good look at her. Why? Did you see her?”

Turning away, his sister took her boyfriend’s hand or maybe he took hers, either way they clasped hands and started toward the door, the same door he’d been trying to get through before she blocked him. Jimmy seemed like a strong, stand up guy but, not for the first time, Wyatt wondered if he was really the right one for her. Balls to the wall, Rayne struck back. Love from Rayne. “She has red hair. She's hiding it. You know her or she wouldn't hide it, so no I don't but you do."

Studio Time: Eleven

2011-04-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

South Beach: The Harbor Hotel - 4 PM

Somehow he'd expected a whole chorus line of ballerinas, all of them decked out in pink tulle and tiaras and twinkling around like a bunch of escapees from a music box. There were two of them. One wore what looked like her workout clothes and the other something he'd find in a strip club or gracing one of Mel’s whores. Hugs held onto him, hiding her face and peeking out, and Cooper tightened his grip around his daughter's hand and glared at Sydney. "Where are the ballerinas?”

"It's early," she assured him. She straightened a box with the toe of her shoe and glanced out the window toward the stage where Rob Porter had been standing but no longer was. "The other girls are on their way."

The 'girls' stopped strutting and posing. Turning, the elegant lift of their arms, a move he recognized and appreciated but another time, not this time, they stared at him out of painted eyes. One of them said to the other, "Oh my god. It IS Cooper."

"Daddy?"

Syd swept across the room, shooing them, and they fluttered back behind a curtain, still whispering and peeping back at him. This wasn’t what Hugs had expected; it wasn’t what she wanted and it wasn’t what he wanted. No ballerinas, no deal.

“You know why I’m here.” Finding a reasonable voice, making an edged smile, brightening it for his daughter’s sake. “I’m not going anywhere until I get what I want. Do you understand me?”

"Cooper.” Syd looked annoyed. She replaced the annoyed with something resembling patience, crossing the room toward him, heels clicking on the wood, each step an exclamation point. “We have a tv crew standing by waiting for you. I did explain the schedule.”

Hugs released her death grip, dropped the bunny on the floor and ran one small hand reverently across the ballet barre. It was the first time since they’d arrived that she seemed comfortable. Lowering his voice, Cooper stepped closer to Syd. “You’re not listening to me, Sydney. I don’t give a damn about your schedule; I’m not leaving her.”

"I'll stay with her. They're not waiting to interview me. I don't even go up until after Wyatt."

Rayne, strolling up alone although Cooper doubted she was here without Jimmy Breaux, kneeling down beside her little sister. "Maybe they'll let us practice some ballet before the rest of the ballerinas get here. Maybe you could show me all those ballerina positions because I don’t know a single one of them!”

Striking up from the floor, still smiling. "We won’t have a problem with that, will we? Syd.”

Sydney put one six inch heel next to Rayne’s hand where she'd splayed it on the bare floor, avoiding skin by millimeters, and smiled right back. "No problem at all. Rayne."

Hugs stared at herself in the mirrors, twisting to look at the back of her dress. Cooper watched Sydney pound off down the foyer talking urgently on her cell, until Rayne finally said to her father, "You don't look happy to be here."

“I’m not. I would much rather write a check than sell my time but...” Cooper drew a breath and tried to rein in his aggravation. “Hugs was excited about it and I couldn’t disappoint her...that’s all I seem to be doing lately.”

Two more little girls ran into the room, followed by a little boy who sat down on the floor and refused to move. Wyatt would have done that, or Nate. He wasn't sure about Eric; he didn't know what Eric would have done. If Gemma's kid had been his -

“Mom’s going to be here, maybe she’ll bid on you."

Dragging his attention away from the boy, Cooper crossed his arms and tried to focus. Years ago he would have considered Beth bidding on him pretty damned sexy, but not now. If he had to watch her bid on fucking Alex...his stomach churned at the thought, but if she did, he'd deal with it. That wasn't going to last. He knew her. He knew her the same way she knew him, right down to bone and blood and the spark that lit them both up. “I would never want your mother to buy time with me, Rain Drop. I could never let her do that.”

Rayne put her hand on his arm. There was nothing gentle about Rainie, but the gesture was kind and firm and unbearably sweet. She took a step back, folding her arms, watching Hugs and Heydon’s bratty son circle each other. Another sour thought...if Jay was here, that meant Camilla was somewhere close and carrying her basket full of unwanted advice, Cammie's basket of poison candy eggs. Hugs danced; Jay banged on the mirror; the unknown boy howled, and Rayne stood quietly in the late afternoon sunlight and looked at him. “It’s going to be all right, Dad, I know it is.”

Studio Time: Ten

2011-04-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

South Beach: 109 Harbor Place - 10 AM

She slid out of bed, kicked a pile of pillows aside, walked across the room and paused in the doorway to the landing and looked back at him. "How do you take your coffee?" It was the first thing she'd said in hours.

Alex eased up on the bed, yawned, and looked at her for a few seconds before answering. Great sex, beautiful woman who didn't say much, what was not to like? Maybe he could have used a few words but hell, maybe she just didn't talk during sex. He ran his hands through his hair and said, "Black with six packets of sugar. Thanks babe. There might be some bagels that aren't too stale, if you want to bring them up, too."

"Some coffee with your sugar." She laughed, looking back at him through watery rainy light. For a woman who'd popped out four kids, she was in damned good shape, and he thought briefly about Dani, and then stopped it.

Lying back down into the blankets, Alex stretched, relaxed, listening to Beth Stanfield opening and closing cabinet doors and running water for the coffee. And singing. She couldn't sing. Damn, she shouldn't sing. Rain slid down the glass and he grinned and watched the rain and whispered out loud, with complete satisfaction, "Check mate, Cooper."

He heard her come back upstairs, the little clink of a pot, smelled the coffee and toasted bagels. His stomach rumbled. Lazy, Alex waited. Kept waiting. She didn't come back and she didn't say anything, and after another few minutes, maybe she thought he would come on out, he got up, pulled on a pair of sweats and strolled toward the door to the deck even though he had no idea why she would be out on the deck in the rain.

"No I didn't know she had the baby." She'd put on one of his shirts and she sat there framed in the chair, bare legs crossed, naked under that shirt, talking on her cell. Intense and fierce and agitated and kicking the table leg as she talked: kick, kick, kick, toes banging against the iron in a drummer's angry and perfect and unconscious rhythm. "Rayne, don't get in the middle of this please...no I haven't heard from him. What did I just say?...I have to go to the auction, your father agreed to take Hugs, that's why...I'm not committing to anything will you please stop it my god you're relentless and this is none of your business...yes, I will...yes, buy the dress for Hugs...I'll be home in a few hours and that's none of your business either."

She tossed the cell down on the table, got up and walked to the far end of the deck and turned her face up to the rain. And stood there, in the rain, eyes closed, her mouth soft, vulnerable, as if offering herself to the rain and the wind like a woman in love. It was a face she had not given to him.

He took a step outside, stepping into a puddle, trying to work through what he'd heard and what he'd guessed and what people were saying. The pregnant woman they'd run into: Coop had himself another kid. There were probably more Beth didn't know about, but this time it was in her face. If he wanted to be fair about it, she'd thrown some serious provocation at Cooper with that bodyguard, a situation he wouldn't have handled the way Cooper had. He would have walked. It was an equation with only one result: those two should not have stayed together. Whatever she was hoping for, looking for, she hadn't gotten it from Cooper, and he hadn't been able to get her to say shit to him either. She wasn't talking to him. She was out here making love to the rain.

She didn't look at him until he'd crossed the distance between them, sloshing through water. It was a goddamned wonder the deck hadn't come down, the drainage was that bad, water wicking up the sweats halfway to his crotch in less than a minute. It was pouring. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her shiver in the blow from the cold high northwest of the world. Maybe he'd spent too much time there himself. "Come on, come inside, come back to bed. You know, I make a mean Bloody Mary. Fuck the coffee. And this time, you're going to talk to me."

South Beach: 402 West Park Drive - 4 PM

Slim didn’t bother pulling his ‘Vette into the garage. He and Bonni had bought a place off the beach and the garage was still full of furniture and boxes, paint, outdoor furniture, and all of Will’s things. The decision to move inland had been Bonni’s after the most recent storm that had blown past. Garrett tended to wander off more often than not and she had been scared to death that he might get pulled into a riptide or undertow - he wasn’t as strong a swimmer as Will had been. So they had moved again.

It had been a long, stressful afternoon and Slim looked forward to a little downtime with B. There was still work waiting for him at the studio, work that he had set aside to accompany Cooper to the lab for the results. Everything had been laid out in black and white. There wasn’t much more to discuss. It was done. Slim would be the one to reveal the test results to Gemma but he would put that off for a few hours too. The rest of it was a crap shoot.

Slim rubbed his neck and hoped Bonni had the massage table set up. Or the bed. He was going to have a long night in front of him between the work he’d left this afternoon and the upcoming photo op charity bachelor auction. It was only a few days away and Slim still had logistics to nail down. Whatever Sydney had up her sleeve, whatever plans she had made, Slim fully intended to know every detail. The timing could not have been worse. Cooper hadn’t said much on the long drive back. Slim expected...something, some reaction. Anger, elation, rage...something, anything. Instead Cooper had been uncharacteristically quiet. Dead damn moody stare out the window silent.

Pushing open the door the smell of fresh paint assaulted him. Looking around he noticed Garrett playing video games while Bonni was apparently issuing orders to one of the contractors. She didn’t look happy. Damn.

As if she felt his eyes on her, Bonni turned, flashing that spectacular smile toward him and dismissed the worker with her hand. She’d changed her hair. Even after all these years Bonni could still manage to stir his passion for her with a look. He’d never strayed from her bed except that one time before she married him and technically that didn’t count in his book because he had been stinking drunk. Okay maybe that wasn’t an excuse...fact was that one time had been with Coop’s first wife Julia. Being around Gemma, the way she looked so much like Jules, life twisting and turning in on itself like a looping mobius strip...

Shaking off the direction his mind was going he walked toward B and brushed a kiss against her temple. “Trouble with the contractor?”

“They’re trying to get us to rip down some trees in order to dig the pool. It looks like we’ll lose the gazebo...hope you weren’t attached to it. And I’m still not sure I like the colors I chose.”

Slim walked toward the back of the house and looked out. He couldn’t care less about the gazebo but B liked the thing. “Whatever it takes baby, whatever you want.” Slim turned toward her and pulled her close moving his large hands down her back to her hips and drawing her tight against him. She could paint the place purple if she wanted. He moved his hips seductively against hers.

“Garrett, take your toys upstairs and clean your room please. Daddy and I need to talk.”

“Aw, Mom...I was getting to level 3.” Garrett moped as he slowly took the stairs.

Bonni massaged Slim’s shoulders. “You want to tell me how it went?” His jaw tightened along with the grip he had on her ass. Placing her hands on Slim’s chest, she firmly pressed him back against the wall. “Honey, you can’t fix this for Cooper. Whatever is going on with him and Beth, he has to find the answers. Maybe there aren’t any. But you need to let this part of it go.” Bonni rested her cheek against his chest and held on tight.

She was right. In all the years he has known Coop, been best friends with him, that was the one thing Slim did - fixed things. Not this time, this time he couldn’t fix it for Coop. He’d spin it with the press if he had to, he’d make sure the studio continued to thrive as usual but as for Coop’s family and marriage...Slim’s hands were tied in that arena.

Heading to the bar Slim poured them both a drink. He took a long pull from his glass and set it down. “The kid’s not Coop’s.”

Studio Time: Nine

2011-04-02T23:52:00.000-07:00

Millwood: Monday, 6:11AM

The first rays of dawn crept into Gemma’s room as she lay awake and exhausted. Sleep had eluded her for the last couple of nights. It hadn’t been but a few days earlier when she had enjoyed a burst of energy and had finally setup the spare room for the baby. More than once the idea of returning to California had crossed her mind; after all, there wasn’t much to keep her in Millwood. Things had definitely not played out the way she had hoped.

Pulling back the sheets Gemma stretched out on the bed and tried to see her toes as she wiggled them but the mountain that her belly had become prevented her from actually seeing them. With a wistful smile she realized she had been softly caressing her belly. No, things had definitely not gone as planned at all.

A dull ache in her back forced her to shift her weight but it wouldn’t ease the pain. Maybe she should get up and move around a little, she thought. Sighing, Gemma hefted her body up and out of the bed and padded toward the mirror in the corner. Critically examining her face she realized that it hadn’t changed much throughout the pregnancy with the exception of the shadows under her eyes. The pregnancy itself hadn’t been particularly difficult other than the recent back aches and she even felt pretty good through most of it.

But as Gemma’s due date got closer the fear and doubt about her ability to be a good parent began to set in along with the fear of giving birth. She and Julia were built with the same lithe body; if Julia managed to deliver Wyatt under the circumstances she had been in at the time, then Gemma could certainly survive it. Still, there had been times where she was frantic, desperate enough to even consider calling her step-mother and asking for help. She had no one here; even Wyatt had distanced himself from her, not that she could blame him.

She was afraid, plain and simple, and turning back the clock, taking a different path or making a different choice was no longer an option on the table. Gemma took a few steps away from the mirror and re-focused on her reflection and the vast changes in her body. She looked like she had swallowed a giant pear. Oh God, a fat, juicy pear she realized as a warm trickle ran down her leg.

Mercy Hospital: Tuesday, 9:42AM

“Coop, it’s me.” Slim tried to keep his gruff voice as quiet as possible while stepping outside the main entrance of Mercy Hospital. It was too early for Cooper, he knew that, but the call had to be made. “Gemma had the baby last night…yeah…I got the call from her this morning. They’re both fine although she was still feeling pretty rough around the edges.”

Moving the phone away from his ear, Slim drew a deep breath. Even after all this time, knowing that Coop was never at his best in the morning, he could still manage to chew Slim’s ear off with amazing clarity. He gritted his teeth and tried to answer calmly, “I know you don’t give a damn how she feels...right...I don’t know man, it’s hard to tell...you know babies; they’re all bald and blue-eyed.”

Slim tried to fill in the blanks in between each of Cooper’s questions and he was hitting him fast with them, raw tension in his voice. “Coop, slow down...yeah I get it but I don’t know shit yet...You wanted me to move fast with the paternity test. I’ve got a guy I trust who can give us results in a couple of days. He’s discreet and reliable - I’ll pick you up later this afternoon.”

He hesitated for a split second, released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and blurted out, “It’s a girl.”

Downtown Metro Area - Sutter Building: Friday, 2:38PM

The Sutter Building was two blocks away but for Cooper it wasn’t nearly close enough. Getting this out of the way and getting Gemma out of his life was the primary concern for him. He drilled Slim the entire way from the parking lot, needing constant reassurance that, regardless of the outcome, Gemma’s silence was guaranteed. Slim had replied in monosyllables ‘yeah right maybe fuck it Coop sure’, tipped his sunglasses down over his eyes and avoided the afternoon pedestrian traffic by walking through an empty construction zone. There were no guarantees. He didn’t need Slim to tell him that, he knew it.

Cooper hadn’t wanted to learn the results face to face. Over the phone would have been fine as far as he was concerned but Slim didn’t trust getting information this important by phone. If there had been the slightest whiff that Coop might have fathered the child, and there had been many veiled remarks in the past few months, then Slim wanted it in person and behind closed doors. He wanted the proof in his hands for safe keeping.

As they exited the elevator Slim stopped to face Cooper. “I know you don’t trust her but in this case I believe what she says. Gemma won’t be a threat.”

Cooper folded his arms and glared skeptically at Slim. “Well I don’t trust her and I never will. Let’s just get this done.”

They walked into a small office. The geneticist rose when they entered and gestured for them to sit. Cooper shifted uneasily in his seat and looked at the folder which lay in the middle of the desk. His fate, his future was contained in that folder. He was either the kid’s father or he wasn’t. And if he was...his future with Beth, which already hung by the thinnest of threads, his chance of winning her back, was nil.

Dispensing with the social niceties, Cooper locked eyes with the doctor and got into it. “So? Am I the father or not?” As he continued to stare, Cooper was sure he saw a sympathetic expression in the man’s eyes. He didn’t say anything and simply pushed the folder toward him.

Swallowing, Cooper shoved down the rush of emotions that hit him. It felt like he was in the middle of a dark comedy. It was foolish to think this wasn’t going to get out one way or another regardless of what was in that folder or who made promises to keep silent. Figuring out how to spin it right, getting in front of it was going to be difficult and ugly but Cooper knew Slim would handle it. If the child was his...what was bad now with the twins would be irreparable; it would compromise Rayne’s contract, cast doubt on everything she’d fought so hard to do; and Hugs...how in hell could he explain this to his little girl. Everything changed. I’ll never go home..

He glanced at Slim whose jaw was rigid as he returned the look. Finally Slim reached for the folder, hesitated, and then asked quietly, “Do you want me to look first?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Coop grabbed the folder and opened it. He remained expressionless as his eyes scanned the documents until he found what he was looking for.

Cooper didn’t say a word as he rose from his seat, tossed the folder back on the desk toward Slim, and, walking to the window, looked out at the city below. “So that’s it then.” His voice was flat and unemotional.

Slim glanced at the report, drew a deep breath and responded, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Studio Time: Eight

2011-03-27T19:39:00.000-07:00

South Beach: 109 Harbor Place - 11 PM

It was a cool evening, the scent of fresh rain that had come and gone still lingering with the salt air. Blade led Beth to the patio and wrapped strong arms around her as he lowered his mouth onto hers and kissed her, his mouth warm, his body warm. They sat on steps lurching a little crookedly down to the beach, leaning into each other until a gust of wind snatched at the firelight, tossing embers across the stone and sand. She moved one sandaled foot and stepped on the fire until it blinked itself to death.

"About Dani," he began.

Yes, about Dani. There had been another one after her. She had googled them all and looked at the photos and read the little Wiki entry about each one and how somebody thought they'd met and how somebody thought they'd split. She hadn't learned much and hadn't thought much about what she had learned until Danica Cole walked out of wiki and spoke to her. How important was it to know if the man she was dating was still involved with an ex? How important was the man? She didn't know, and his hand was down between her knees and hers was right there and this was not the time, if there was a time, to talk about yet another ex, but not now it wasn't. He was hot and close and hard and she didn't want to talk about Dani or Gemma or Julia.

"You don't need to explain anything to me about her, Blade. Trust me, I understand about women from a man's past. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and shredded it."

He framed Beth's face in his large hands and tenderly kissed her. "Tonight I'm not Blade. I'm just a man, just Alex, someone who wants to be here for you, and I want you to understand. I need to explain."

The harbor lights across the bay lit the side of his face, dim and distant but bright enough to show those freckles. Uneasy memory pricked at her. Why did he have to have freckles. She stepped back out of the embrace and shivered, a quick strange shudder, and looked up at him. She'd gone further with this than she ever intended to go and bringing the ex into it, explaining about the ex, she didn't want to care about anybody's ex. "Alex," she began, found an edge in her voice and stepped back from that, too, and tried again. "If you think I need to know, go ahead and explain but I don't. Need to know."

"It's okay," he murmured against her hair, brushing her mouth with his, tightening his grip, "it's not bad. I’ll make you a deal, sit down over there, get comfortable, if you're cold, and babe you're shivering, I'll throw another log on the fire. I can be a son of a bitch but I don't lie and I don't keep secrets from the woman I'm with. Whatever you want to know, you can ask me."

Kicking off her shoes, she curled up on the wide couch, recognizing it as more than a couch, watching him toss wood into the narrow firebox, set it aflame, and expecting him to join her. He didn't. He knelt down on the stone and said simply, "Truth or dare. I go first. It’s simple . Dani and I were pretty happy considering I was gone a lot but she wanted to start a family right away, while she was young enough to get back into modeling. You know how I feel about kids - I’m not going to be an absentee father - so I said no. That was the one thing we never could agree on, timing for her was perfect but for me not so much. It was a deal breaker. That’s it.”

Truth or dare? They could have waited. Beth didn’t remember how old Danica was, but a model’s shelf life was short, even a supermodel with the face and the legs and the long thin waist that was Danica's. He wanted truth or dare, give him some. "All right," she said flatly. "My turn. Alex, you’ve been telling me that my feelings for Coop are written on my face. You think I don’t see the same thing on yours? On Dani’s? I think there is more to it than you are letting on or even admitting to yourself. If you still love her...”

“I don’t.” Alex stood suddenly and took her in his arms. He kissed her passionately, his lips both soft and hard at the same time. His eyes lit with desire, Alex eased up while his hands moved along her back until he finally pulled her close to him. “Let’s not waste any more time talking about the past. I would much rather spend my time with you, here and now.”

“Alex...” As if time was something she was wasting and the past was just the present hiding behind the door, how do you spend time. Put a nickel in the slot pull the hammer and hope you get something always hoping for something hoping for the jackpot not Cooper no point hoping for that because it was done and she was left here with whatever was left, and it was more than she deserved. Maybe he was using her and maybe it didn't matter find the time wait until you hear it wait until you see it. Beth slid her hands down Alex’s back, fingers gently crossing his shoulders, reaching up to find his mouth again and breathing more damned time into that kiss. “Do you remember what you said, that you would help me to let go? Are you sure you’ve let her go?”

He chuckled, the laughter genuine and delighted and some of Alex goofy because he did that beguiling unexpected tilt. “Are you jealous, babe? You don’t need to be jealous. I’m sure, I’m damned sure.” Leaning over, he nipped at her neck, cupped one breast and ran his thumb across her nipple, all charm and all sex and his voice husky as he returned, “Are you?”

The gentle sister Jealousy, she had never spoken and she was still silent and it wasn’t for her that she whispered, “Make me forget.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Alex began to slowly undress her leaving a trail of kisses along her bare skin as it was revealed. The small click of his buckle as she loosened his belt, and then she glanced up at his face.

Something in her heart slammed. All the doors and windows flying shut, a storm draft of emotion and memory ripping off hinges banging them into walls and floor and bringing down the ceiling of her life. Into the labyrinth she descended. He took her body, and shaking with sex and desire and the heat of his mouth, she still turned her face away from him. You dropped the thread Ariadne...you're lost...

Studio Time: Seven

2011-03-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

South Beach Metro Area, Northwest: 100 Proof - 10:08 PM

Dani made her way up the stairs to the mezzanine level and her favorite and always reserved table near the window overlooking the city. The piano where Alex used to sit and play was still there. She trailed one hand across the polished top as she passed, and, when she heard his voice, for a moment she thought she imagined it. Dark and rich and charming, it was definitely Alex. "I was thinking, I'd like to get away for a long weekend, maybe after the RMA's, maybe somewhere you could wear that green dress. The one that matches this...right under there."

It wasn't her imagination. He was seated not ten feet away, leaning back, long legs tangled under the table and his attention focused on a woman she had never met but she recognized. Cooper Stanfield's wife, the woman some people considered Cooper's biggest problem, the major mistake in his life. Dani took a step back, considered leaving, she didn't want to make an awkward scene for Alex, and then paused to take another look at her. Perhaps there was some slight resemblance to Alex's first and last wives, perhaps, but Alex had never had a type and this woman really did not look like any of them. Any of us, she corrected herself silently.

Beth Stanfield laughed and leaned into Alex, the motion slow and flirtatious and sensual, her arms bare and shining. Whatever she said was pitched too low to overhear but Alex responded the way Dani knew he would when he was on the chase and serious about it: he took her hands and kissed one palm before stretching back. He gave only so much while promising more to come.

Flushing slightly at the gesture, remembering what it felt like to be the center of Alex’s world, Dani decided it was best that she leave. Her emotions were still a little raw after he told her that their interludes would need to stop.

Before she was able to discreetly slip away however, Alex locked eyes with her, smiled and waved for her to come over to the table. Putting on one of her best smiles, Dani drew a quick breath and approached them.

Alex stood and kissed her lightly on the cheek before making introductions. “Beth, I’d like you to meet Danica Cole. Dani this is Beth Stanfield.”

Smiling down at her Dani laughed softly, “I’m ex number three just in case Alex hasn’t given you the blow by blow of his wives. I’m very pleased to meet you.” Beth Stanfield smiled back, keeping whatever discomfort she felt well hidden, a small shadow under the hem of that smile.

“I loved your spread in Vogue last month.” She had a soft almost childish voice, not the sexy voice Dani expected. Not the voice Alex had chosen the last time. She had too much cheek for photography, a face too full, a body at least ten and perhaps fifteen pounds past what Dani would ever dare to carry. Beth put both hands on the table, showing off lush cleavage, a move that may have been deliberate. “My little girl loved it. She thought you looked like a princess. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” Beth looked up out of long light eyes, watching, curious, and a little guarded.

She was friendly and gracious, unlike the last one. Alex had chosen very well. And there were children - despite her best effort Dani could not prevent her smile from slipping just a little. As she tried to come up with a graceful way to leave Alex asked her what she was doing there. Was she meeting someone? She stepped back a little and said, “I’m waiting for a friend, yes. I am doing a spread for GQ with Chase Westbrook and we’re meeting here to discuss it. You know, our - my usual table near the window.”

“Yes, I remember.” Alex’s voice was soft and low, a deep caress, and it sent chills down her spine.

“I really should go. Again, it was so nice to meet you Beth. Alex - you take care.” Alex embraced her warmly and murmured his goodbye then sat back down turning his attention back to Beth.

His scent still lingered as did the bristle of his beard against her cheek. Dani walked away, heading back toward her table and tried to manage her feelings. She had no right to be jealous and in fact she wasn’t. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth to keep it from quivering, Dani composed herself, lifted her chin and moved forward.

-----------------------------------------------

Authors' Notes:

Special things we used in this set:

Mural by Yuxi
Mural by MrsSims

Curtains and floors by Yuxi

And the lighting mod...which I love

Studio Time: Six

2011-02-28T20:13:00.000-08:00

South Beach Metro: Red Label Studio, Chinatown - 8 PM

"This is the kind of light you want? It's a little dark don’t you think?" Rafe glanced around the court, scanning past the arch into the park and the Chinatown bars across the street. "Maybe I should stay with you."

Randi placed her camera carefully on the table top, watching the spray from the fountain, making sure she'd chosen a table that wouldn't get wet. She shouldn't have caught a ride into town with him; she should have known he'd get all puffed up when he saw the place she wanted to shoot, and she should have known he would want to hang around. "You said you had things to do, Dad," she reminded him. "You said you were going to drop by Red Label and line up an interview. There's nothing wrong with this place. It's perfectly safe."

She heard her friend's voice before she saw her, and so did her father. Rafe turned, watched Rayne Stanfield strolling up from the other side of the street, and ripped a cold stare down at his daughter. "I see. Is she supposed to improve the safety?"

"She's fine, Dad, she's much better, we're just going to grab some coffee and talk while I get these shots. It'll be all right, ok?"

Rayne tossed an expensive handbag onto the table next to the camera, barely missing it, and smiled and said hello and smiled a little more tentatively at Rafe. "Hi, Mr. Taylor. How are you? How's everybody?"

He raised an eyebrow, shifted his weight, looked skeptical, and then relented. "They're good, thanks. Coffee," he repeated, looking meaningfully at Randi. "And stay here. I'll be back in about an hour."

"Someone put a rose in my guitar case last night."

Randi walked down the edge of the fountain pool and checked her light meter. "A rose? Like the flowers people give opera singers?"

"Not exactly. Whoever did it snuck it into the case; they didn't walk up and hand it to me. And it wasn't a bouquet, it was one flower. Don't you think that's kind of creepy?"

Randi raised the camera, snapped a few shots and then turned back toward Rayne. "Yes. No. Well, maybe a little."

Rayne toyed restlessly with the buckle on the cuff of her jacket. "Toad thinks whoever did it was just a shy dork. You know what though, some guy deliberately brushed up against me just before I found the flower, and I swear he had a hard on. He was right up against me, and I was wearing that stupid cowgirl skirt that always rides up so I could feel it. That doesn't sound like a shy dork to me."

Holding her breath for just a moment before exhaling Randi set her camera down and gripped the back of one of the iron chairs. She looked at Rayne for a long moment and thought about Ezra and Will, how different they were and how infatuated she was with her mentor. "No it doesn't exactly sound like a shy dork but it isn't exactly creepy either. Honestly Rayne don't you ever think about dating someone other than Jimmy? Someone mature and just a little dangerous?"

Rayne stared at her, quit fussing with the jacket and got in the way of her shot. "What are you talking about? Mature and dangerous sounds like some sort of vampire. I haven't been with Jimmy for very long, and maybe I won't be with him for the rest of my life but right now I'm happy. So who's the mature and dangerous you're talking about?"

The doors of the recording studio next door opened and two men that Randi recognized from the band Flight had exited the building and headed toward the cafe. They both sat at a table, the darker more mysterious one catching her eye. His eyes widened for a moment as if in recognition and his mouth curved in a slight smile. Randi nearly gasped as her body reacted to the effects of that smile.

Dragging her attention back to Rayne, who seemed lost in thoughts of her own, Randi folded her arms and explained. "It's Ezra, the artist I told you about. I've been with Will since we were in high school and I do love him but..." Randi glanced back at the two men at the table and returned a seductive smile of her own. "I am totally in lust with him Rainie. Ezra, I mean. He's so...mysterious, dark, I don't know what it is, but I'd really like to find out."

Rayne cocked her head to one side and smiled curiously at Randi as she placed a hand on one hip. "Dark and dangerous as in kinky, hand cuffs, tie you to the bed? Really?"

Randi's cheeks colored a little. Of course that wasn't what she meant was it? Her eyes drifted back to the two guys watching them. They were both incredibly hot and she tried to remember their names. Rob and...what was his name? She couldn't think when he was looking at her like that, so intense, like she was naked, a sweet treat that he wanted to devour. She was considering approaching them. She had a camera in her hands, she could use it as an excuse, a reason to walk over there. She smiled again and flipped her hair over her shoulders but they had stood and headed back toward the studio.

"Randi are you listening to me? What the hell are you staring at?"

Rayne turned around and followed the direction of Randi's gaze. She caught sight of the backs of two men who had just turned the corner. Randi watched as her best friend shivered, placed a steadying hand on the table and shook her head as if she couldn't quite believe what she had seen.

Randi gently touched her arm, feeling the chill through the sleeve, as Rayne looked after them with a slightly haunted expression. "Come on, let's finish getting these shots before my dad gets back."

South Beach: 60 Coast Road 10 PM

Too restless to sleep, Duff paced back and forth from the living room to his bedroom. Sleep would be difficult when distracting thoughts of Rayne kept his imagination going at full speed. Two nights ago he had been standing so close to her, so close that the warmth of her body, the heady aroma of her unique scent fanned the flames of his obsession with her.

The unexpected encounter this evening turned up the fever. Even the idea of bringing someone else home to fuck was distasteful. He wanted Rayne and no amount of imagining it was her writhing under him would suffice. He'd know the difference. He could have approached her tonight, but he wasn't ready; he wanted to control the moment when they met. Tonight was not the time.

She probably had no idea, no way to understand the power she could wield over him, her sensuality. He would teach her everything. Tired, overheated and aroused, Duff stripped and stretched out across his bed, searching for sleep, not finding it, and finally reaching for fantasy. It would be a partial and unsatisfactory release, but, for now, it would have to suffice. He did not expect to wait too much longer for the reality.

Smiling at the cliche his imagination conjured, Duff fantasized Rayne walking into a darkened office dressed like a school girl, sexy, seductive and somewhat naive. It was hot, sticky hot, and he was sitting behind a desk looking cool despite the heat. A rusty fan rattled on one corner of the desk barely disturbing the heavy, heated air. The scent of her wafted toward him in that thick air and his crotch reacted at the thought.

Rayne stood there hands on hips wearing platform shoes and silk stockings that hugged her long legs. She moves toward his desk and leans in provocatively, that sweet ass tilted up and her cleavage on display for him to admire. "You wanted to see me?" she would ask him.

Duff licked his lips and imagined his hands flexing with the desire to run them brazenly over her curves. He would take his pleasure slowly, make every moment last as he taught her to please him. First he needed to remind her who was in control.

Rising, never taking his eyes off hers, he rests his hands on the desk and waits to allow the full weight of his gaze to intimidate her. Air from the fan fluttered the silk shirt he wore against his torso like caressing silk fingers.

“You’re late. I expected you fifteen minutes ago.” His voice would remain stern, flat.

Rayne would step away from the desk and sweep her hair back the way he had seen her do when he’d watched her in the past. “You’re angry with me please don’t be mad. I dressed up the way you wanted.” Her voice would be pleading and teasing simultaneously.

He would move toward her slowly lowering his voice to a low and menacing tone. “I don’t like it when you don’t follow all my instructions. You’ll need to be taught a lesson.”

“I’m sorry...” Rayne’s voice was barely above a whisper. She hangs her head, unable to look him in the eyes.

He would appear unmoved despite the raging hard-on in his pants. “If you’re sorry then you’ll need to prove it won’t you? Stop wasting time; strip off those clothes and move over there...now!”

Rayne would quickly pull her shirt over her head tossing it to the side and slip off that short skirt until all she wore was her lingerie. It was pink just as he had wanted, a soft feminine shade that he imagined against the dark tan of her skin. Picking up a crop he would run the tip of it along the inside of her thighs and spread them apart. Sweeping it along her sides he forces her arms up and, pushing her, growls at her to grasp the mesh screen.

She shivers as he continues to stroke her with the crop. He teases her with it, taunts her with all the things he could and will do to her, sliding it along her thin lace panties until she gasps. Rayne trembles and he smiles. He would have her doing much more than trembling...soon.

Tossing his crop aside he takes Rayne’s arm and moves away firmly pulling her toward him. Taking hold of a chair, he sits and pulls her down to the floor. Rayne lays her head on his thigh rubbing her cheek against it - his little pet. He slides his hand along her shoulder blade toying with her strap until he peels it from her shoulder and begins to pull on the other one. He is hard as a rock and throbbing with the need to bury himself in her, to split her in half with his lust.

Patience, he tells himself, she has a lot to learn. “There’s a good girl. Now take off the rest of your clothes...slowly...and come to me.”

Duff shuddered his release, breathing heavily and reaching for some sort of control. His eyes narrowed as he stood near the open door to allow the night air to cool his sweat covered body. He hadn’t been this obsessed with a woman since...well it had been awhile.

Where had he left his keys? On the bureau.

Sandy Point: 1100 Bridge Pass - 11 PM

"Do you see something scary, P.D.?"

The dog whuffed, a deep uneasy horsey snort, then turned and padded heavily up the deck stairs. He flopped down beside her and sighed. Rayne shifted on the cold boards, stroked down the stiff hair on the back of his neck as she looked out at the dark water. "Do you think there’s something out there?"

The hairs on the back of her own neck stood up and Rayne shivered. The dog whimpered and nudged her hand. She stroked him once more finding comfort and giving it and whispered, "Yeah, me too."

*****

Authors' Notes: Randi's encounter with Ezra can be found HERE

Inspiration Credit: To Yuxi for the Club Hemisphere design.

Studio Time: Five

2011-01-30T11:35:00.000-08:00

Millwood - 119 West Ox Road: 4:47 PM

After putting in about an hour and a half of practice on his kit, Shooter headed downstairs. He showered, dressed, grabbed a beer and a book, and headed for the beach. From the moment he laid eyes on this house Shooter knew it was perfect for him. It was rustic and remote, far enough from city life but close enough for when he felt the desire to socialize.

As he stepped onto the deck and made his way toward the beach he smiled. This was the first time he had purchased a house that really felt like home. Even if he didn't spend much time here, the idea of having roots, a place to call home, was appealing. It was something he didn't have much of growing up. Flopping into the hammock, Shooter took a long pull from the beer, secured the bottle in the warm sand and began to read.

"I figured I'd find you back here with your nose in a book. What is it - Vonnegut?"

Smiling up at Mackenna, Shooter let his book fall to the ground as he slid his hands around her hips and drew her down next to him. "No, this time it's Thoreau." He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that Shooter was reluctant to end.

"Hmm, you taste like cinnamon." Shooter smiled down at her. Hell she looked liked cinnamon sugar, warm and spicy mixed with creamy skin.

"Do I?" Mackenna settled in next to Shooter curling her body against his, sliding one leg on top of his as her right hand played idly with the fine hair exposed on his chest. They lay there for several moments as the surf lulled them into an easy, comfortable silence until Shooter spoke.

"I thought we'd stay in tonight, just you, me and a nice bottle of wine."

Mac shifted, easing her body between Shooter's legs seductively sliding her hands along his abdomen and settling them on his chest. His idea of staying in had just increased ten-fold. Mac's lips turned up in a gentle and somewhat playful smile. "Will there be eating involved as well Mr. James?"

Shooter chuckled softly as he kissed the tip of her nose. "Oh definitely there will be eating involved."

Giggling, Mackenna pinched him lightly, "Very funny...we were going to meet Lily at Prime Cut."

Easing off the hammock Shooter sat in the sand and looked up at her. He didn't say anything for a few moments, tossed back the rest of his beer which was getting warm from the sand, considered how to respond and then sighed. "I know and I know what she wants to talk about. She wants to get into the auction doesn't she?"

Mackenna threw her legs over the side, dug the toe of her shoe into the sand and swung gently back and forth. Damn, she was adorable looking down at him with those forest green eyes and long slender neck.

"She hasn't been seeing much of Duff lately; I think she wants to try and bid on him."

"That's really not a good idea Mac." Rising, he took Mackenna's hand and walked toward the house with her. "Believe me she is better off steering clear of Duff. Lily's in over her head with him. Anyway Duff isn't putting himself up for auction this year. He said he has other plans."

Mackenna stopped, pulling his arm until he turned to face her. "Maybe so, but she's a big girl. She has to figure it out herself. She really likes him Shooter and she's already slept with him so if she is in over her head don't you think she'd know?"

What was he supposed to say to that? He'd considered telling Mac about Duff's perversions so she could warn Lily off, but if she'd slept with him she might already know. And if she did and wasn't scared off...maybe the girl wasn't as naive as he thought.

It didn't matter. Either way he wasn't going to the auction and he certainly wasn't going to facilitate Lily's fascination with Duff.

They continued up the stairs and when they reached the top, Shooter leaned against the baluster and pulled Mac close. She eased into him placing her hands on his shoulders. "Did you know your name means born of fire? You think you can start the grill from here?" Shooter slid his hands down her hips and playfully bit her shoulder.

"You're changing the subject..."

"Yes, I am...I'm sorry Mac. I don't want to do it; I wouldn't feel right if she gets hurt and believe me, she will get hurt."

Pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her securely Shooter began to kiss her neck moving slowly and seductively toward her earlobe and finally pulling her lower lip into his mouth. The only prime cut he craved was Mackenna. "I think you need to feed me..."

***

South Beach Metro Southeast - Candy: 10 PM

It had become trendy to open underground clubs near the heart of the city. Up and coming talent performed there in hopes that their bands would be noticed and propelled to fame and fortune. Others just wanted a place to practice their craft, be heard and appreciated.

Candy was one of the clubs that catered to those bands. Built near the outskirts of the metro area in an old chocolate factory and on a block just short of seedy, it it featured young bands on the weekends and quickly became one of the hottest clubs to be seen in.

Duff enjoyed the atmosphere and the place had become a favorite haunt of his when he was in the mood for company. More often than not he was recognized by the female patrons making his acquisitions even easier. Depending upon what his appetites craved, Duff would either take them to a nearby rent-a-room, back to his place, or just took what he wanted in a darkened doorway above the club. The club had the good sense to turn a blind eye toward certain lascivious behavior as far as Duff was concerned.

What drew him to the place tonight was a particular prize. During a previous visit Duff had noticed a flyer that prominently featured Brew as the headline band. The girl in the center of it had immediately seized his attention. Rayne. Studying the flyer, he remembered the portrait which hung in his house.

He’d been wandering around Chinatown when he saw the portrait on the back wall in a small shop, hung between an old erotic Japanese woodblock print and someone’s idiotic interpretation of Supergirl and a dog. She was exquisite: the innocent sensuality that sent heat straight to his crotch, the girl who wanted to be taught. Rayne was the big game, the pursuit worthy of his interest, the ultimate trophy.

He'd spent many nights thinking about her, devising several scenarios with which he would draw her into his web. It had been a long time since Duff had truly enjoyed the chase, the seduction, and he would savor every moment drawing it out until the ultimate climax. Tonight was just the beginning.

Taking his drink to a table in a darkened corner of the place he watched her. Every movement, every nuance was sublime. She wore a tank top that clung to her damp body like a second skin displaying her full breasts. Duff swore he could make out her nipples. Her short skirt hugged her hips provocatively and accentuated long, tan legs, legs he imagined wrapped around him. Duff's gaze languidly moved from her feet and upward along those legs lingering at the enticing hem of her skirt.

She turned briefly giving him a glimpse of her perfect ass. He wondered what kind of panties she wore, bikini, thong, tanga, silk or lace, perhaps she didn't wear any...she certainly wouldn't for long in his company. Duff slowly licked his lips; he was getting hard purely considering it. And those lips, that full sensual mouth...

With their set finished, Rayne placed her guitar on its stand and turned to the blond next to her and smiled. Duff watched, eyes narrowing slightly as the guy ran his hands up her arms and kissed her temple. Obviously there was something between the two but not an obstacle Duff couldn't overcome. Lifting his eyes to a girl who had been wandering through the crowd selling flowers, he gestured once with his head for her to approach and selected a pristine, white rose. He'd save the passionate red one for another time. Slipping a ten in her hand, he waved her off, stood and moved toward Cooper’s beautiful daughter.

***

Rayne finished the set, gently placed her guitar in its stand and glanced across the room. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been watching her. It was ridiculous, there was a large crowd here and they were on stage, of course someone was watching. Still it felt...creepy. She bit her lip and drew her hands through her damp hair, sweeping the room again, and again finding nothing. Everyone was moving out of the room toward the bar.

"Everything cool Dumplin'?" Jimmy ran his hands along her arms and gently placed a kiss against her temple.

He was happy. Things were good; they’d had a brief argument about the stupid auction, but he’d been clean and focused and she didn’t want to worry him. "Everything's cool. It just felt..it sounds crazy but I thought someone was watching me."

"Everyone was watching you Ren. Me, I'd watch you if I was out there."

"Yeah that's probably it. I'm going to pack up my Gibson...be right back." Rayne smiled warmly and moved toward the guitar case with her Gibson clasped firmly in front of her, careful not to allow anyone to bump into it.

Someone moved up very close behind her, brushing against her; she could feel the body heat and that peculiar feeling swept over her again, raising the hairs on her neck. She stopped, waiting. If someone was standing directly behind her, he would either have to move or she would catch him when she turned. On edge, Rayne gave whoever it was time to move, tightened her grip on the Gibson, balanced her weight on her left heel and abruptly turned.

A draft of cold wind caught at her hair and her skirt. A man was leaving, not looking back; it might have been him, or it might have been her imagination.

She drew an uneasy breath, feeling the sweat under her arms and under her breasts, feeling foolish, turning away and kneeling to place her guitar in the case. The clasps were open; she was certain she had closed them. Wary, alarmed, her hands shaking, she carefully raised the lid, trying to peer through the crack, wondering if Woody might have booby trapped it with some kind of dumb toy snake that would pop out into her face, hoping that was all it was. Surely it couldn’t be anything dangerous.

It was a flower, a single rose, fine and white as bridal lace. A gift. A beautiful token. Pale, innocent and thoroughly and intimately invasive.

--------------------

NEXT CHAPTER: Studio Time Chapter Six

Studio Time: Four

2011-01-22T09:15:00.000-08:00

South Beach Metro East - Hitman Studio: 1 PM

It was a call she had been expecting, in a way, a dreary way. Syd dumped her purse on hood of the car, pulled out her iPhone, saw it was Charlie and decided there was no point in answering it. She was doing her thing and he was doing his thing; they were doing things that never intersected and never would. He probably didn't expect her to answer. He would be with May and wouldn't expect her to initiate a conversation or bother him with one. Charlie checking in.

A man and a woman were arguing on the other side of the parking lot. He was arguing. She was smoking. Syd slipped the cell back into her purse, watched them and wondered if it was technically possible to argue if only one party was interested in arguing. It wasn't an argument. It was a lecture. The woman should stop smoking. The woman shouldn't drop the butts on the ground and step on them. The woman should place the butts in the ashtray provided for that purpose. Rob never lectured. Rob had not called in three days.

Sydney grabbed the heavy purse, made yet another promise to herself that she would finally clean it out, toss most of what she had in there, and started down the sidewalk toward the front door. Parking was tight in this part of the city, all street parking taken and metered. If Cooper didn't have a parking lot, she would have hiked three or four long city blocks to get time with a man who made no secret about not wanting to meet with her. So here she was; maybe this time she would discover an angle she hadn't used before.

"I have a one o'clock with Cooper Stanfield." Sydney could see a recording session underway, a woman she didn't recognize gripping the mic with both hands as she sang. A young man lounging in a swivel chair pulled up to the mixing board cast a quick look in her direction before he leaned forward and stopped the session with an irritable gesture.

"Mrs. Pera?" The girl tabbed through a notebook and smiled at her. "He's expecting you. It's up the stairs and to your left; I'll let him know you're on your way up."

The staircase, squeezed into the back of the building, took a hard left twist before opening onto the second floor. She'd been in Cooper's studio a few times, but she'd never made the flight up to his private office. A little girl sat in the middle of an oriental rug surrounded by dolls and toys, looking up at her famous father who was telling her she hadn't eaten all her lunch and couldn't have a bag of cookies.

"Hi Syd." He stepped over the toys, smiling, briefly took her hand before gesturing toward the couch. "Have a seat; watch your step getting over there."

The child peeked up from under a fringe of light brown hair, big eyed, then quickly, shyly, returned her attention to the doll. Cooper smiled again. "Syd, this is my daughter Harmony. Hugs, say hello to Mrs. Pera."

Another little glance up as she obeyed and said in a soft voice, "Hello."

"Harmony, that's a pretty name." Syd hesitated, trying to remember something about children, about being a little girl. She had owned a doll, dressed it up and brushed its hair and named it something she could no longer remember. "What's your doll's name?"

This time the little girl returned the smile. "Autumn cuz that's my best friend's name and she has a doll too and it's got my name."

Sydney glanced at Cooper. His whole attention was focused on his daughter, and he seemed to tear it away with an effort. Easing down across from her, he crossed one booted foot over the other, relaxing, smiling at her. "What can I do for you, Syd?"

She sat down and crossed her legs and summoned the smile and the one new tool she had. "Rayne and Wyatt have agreed to participate in this year's charity auction. I thought you'd like to join them; it would make a huge impact, having the three of you there."

Cooper stared at her for a couple of seconds, then shook his head and laughed. "Sorry, no. We've been through this before; I'll be happy to contribute a donation but I don't sell my personal time, and definitely not for some fictional date."

Sydney expected the refusal; it had become an annual tradition: ask Cooper and gracefully accept his declination. This year though, this year the man was separated from his wife. This year he'd have to come up with a different excuse. She smiled and leaned toward him and pushed a little harder than she usually did. "Everyone realizes it isn't a real date, Cooper. I have commitments from almost everybody this year, and it would be such a draw if you'd reconsider and help us out."

His expression changed, hardened, and he shifted on the sofa and looked back down at his daughter before drawing a long breath. "I know who has agreed and who hasn't. I said I don't want to do it."

"Is it a party?"

Both of them stopped and looked at the child in the middle of the room. She had gotten to her feet, hands clasped behind her, watching them.

Cooper shot a cold glance at Sydney before he got up and gently touched his daughter's hair. "Sweetie, we can have a party for you and your friends another time; this is not the kind of party you'd like."

She looked disappointed. "Jay said the pretty lady came to their house and told them they could come to the party. He said you probly wouldn't let me go."

Jay? Syd tried to recall 'Jay'...perhaps Heydon's son, the youngest, the child he had with that bitch Camilla. A little boy had been running around showing off when she'd stopped by to talk to Heydon. She hesitated, uncertain how to handle this, whether to push it in the face of Cooper's obvious displeasure or to back off and keep quiet. Putting on her best smile, she stepped right in. "We have a children's room this year, with appropriate entertainment: a magician and three of the ballerinas from the South Beach Ballet Company."

The little girl gasped. "There's ballerinas? Daddy, could I please go see the ballerinas? Please?"

Swallowing a laugh, freezing the polite smile, Sydney silently swore she would buy the girl the biggest doll she could find; she would take her to see Swan Lake; she would give her a truck full of cookies. Cooper was trapped, and he knew it, and the look he gave her, well it said it all.

Auburn - #9 Little Mountain Pass: 4 PM

Cooper worked through the chords again, stopping to make notes on the staff paper spread out on the coffee table, conferring with Heydon. Late afternoon sun sprawled across the floor through the open windows, and he could hear his daughter's voice outside those windows. If more than a couple of minutes passed without him hearing her voice, he set down the guitar and went out onto the deck to check on her.

The house sat back on a mountain ridge and straddled a fast running stream. Hugs was a strong swimmer, but she was still a small child and he didn't intend to take any chances, no chances of any kind, not with this little girl.

He turned his attention to Heydon who had watched him make that circuit over and over again; if he considered it excessive, he kept it to himself. Heydon's son was down there somewhere too, probably getting into something the kid would break. "It's getting late; I need to get Jay up here and take off. You want me to drop off Hugs on our way back? It's a two hour round trip for you and it's snowing."

It was a drive Cooper looked forward to making, including a stop in Bay View for Hugs' favorite strawberry milkshake and fries. "Thanks, but I don't get much time with her, I'd rather take her back myself. I took her to the studio today but I had to tweak that last mix and work on a few arrangements. And that damned woman Sydney Pera took about an hour of my time."

Heydon stood up, stretched, and grinned. "I still can't believe you let her talk you into her buy-a-date game. You're going to regret that."

"I already regret it, but she dangled ballerinas in front of Hugs and I couldn't say no." He glanced outside once more, than winked at Heydon. "What do you say, you want to make a deal? You bid on me and I forget all about that Kramer Jay demolished."

"I love you man but not that much." Laughing along with him, Heydon headed toward the back of the house. "I'm going to hit the head before we go."

After Heydon had collected Jay and left Cooper sat back in the fading light and listened to Hugs who was still outside playing and singing softly, her voice drifting in, carried by the hush of falling snow and rustling branches. He didn't recognize the song, but it sounded like something Beth would have taught her, simple and old and a little melancholy. Cooper's chest tightened, love and anguish simultaneously gripping him in a steel vice.

Silently, he cursed and stared down at the staff paper scattered across the table in front of him. His face set with a determined expression, he began to write, words flowed from his heart like poetry, lyrics to a love song that was not meant for anyone but his wife.

South Beach - #10 Coast Road: 6 PM

“You’re late.”

Cooper got out of the car as Hugs jumped over the curb, splashing in puddled rain, singing and swinging her bunny around in the front yard. Beth was waiting. She wore a dress he hadn't seen before, her bare arms folded against the chill, her mouth tight, her face quiet and closed and annoyed. He'd spent most of the long drive planning how to deal with this, how to explain, how to fix this damned problem and come home where he wanted so desperately to be, but now...now she seemed further away from him than ever.

“The roads were bad or we would have been here sooner. Look Beth I...”

She brushed him off, interrupting, “You could have called to let me know; I have plans and now I’m running late.” Glancing at her daughter she quickly added, “Hugs, move away from the fountain; stop running around, the grass is wet and slippery.”

“You have plans?" He took a step closer, ignoring the distraction, trying to force her attention back, trying to control the surge of anger. "With who, Alex again? I don’t like the idea of him being around the kids, around Hugs.”

“Daddy...”

“Don’t tell me who I can be friends with, Cooper.” She sounded tired, the retort automatic and listless. It was an oddly unenthusiastic defense, and she gazed up at him, a long, silent query.

“Mommy...”

“You know what kind of man he is --” It wasn't what she expected him to say. Cooper saw the surprise and the disappointment and the brief muzzle flash of anger, collected himself, uncertain where he'd gone wrong, regrouping to try something else when he heard the splash.

They both turned quickly to see Hugs lying in the fountain, waist deep in water, arms and legs askew and clutching her bunny to her chest. Brushing damp hair from her face she looked at them, mouth drawn in a pout as her lower lip quivered. ““Sorry...I had to rescue Bunny. He fell in too...”

Beth threw a look at Cooper as he pulled their child from the fountain. “Run upstairs, sugar, and get out of those wet clothes and into the bath. I’ll be up in a minute.”

She was going to walk away. He thought of the lyrics he'd entrusted to Hugs, a gift he never intended to stand on its own, he couldn't let this happen, let her go to fucking Alex and she had wanted something from him, she'd been waiting for it, he'd seen it, a word, a gesture, something. His throat tightening again, Cooper called out, “Baby...”

Beth turned away and sighed. “I'm sure you have someone waiting for you, Coop. Just go...please.”

9 PM

“...and Prince Bunny rescued Princess Harmony from the moat and killed the dragon and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Hugs exhaled dreamily as she closed her storybook and set Bunny on the bed. “Bunny did I tell you I am going to wear a party dress just like a princess and see ballerinas? Don’t worry, you can come with me, Daddy said so.”

“Oh no! Daddy!” Gasping, she ran to the bathroom and stared at the wet pile of clothes still on the bathroom floor. Reaching down, Hugs rummaged through the pockets until she withdrew her hand and held a soggy, crumpled up note.

Padding back to her room and climbing back up onto the bed, Hugs carefully peeled open the soggy paper. Her heart sank at the sight, the ink was smeared and the only part she could make out was her father’s name. And 'love', it said 'love' right next to his name. She opened her hand and let the paper fall, falling down down onto the floor like a wet sock it fell that fast. She had forgotten; princesses don’t forget important things like promises. "Bunny, I forgot to give Mommy the note from Daddy. Daddy said give it to her tonight, promise to give it to her tonight."

Pulling Bunny tightly to her chest Hugs ran to the window and peered out into the night. The pinpoint of taillights moving away in the black was the only thing she could see, Mommy going somewhere and Daddy not coming back. She was cold. The fairy tales were stupid; they weren't real, she knew they weren't real. She had a real thing to do and she didn't do it. She whispered against Bunny's fur, "And now she's gone, and it's all wet, and I didn't keep my promise."

-----------------

Authors' Note: If you are looking at this in IE, the text will be wonky. There's nothing we can do about that...sorry.

Studio Time: Three

2010-12-31T18:52:00.000-08:00

Millwood - 119 West Ox Road: 2 PM

"Are you doing that auction thing again this year?" Shooter rocked back in his chair, propping his foot up against the column on the deck at the back of his house, glancing to the right where he thought he'd put his beer. It wasn't there. He sighed, got up, went back into the kitchen where he'd probably left it on the counter.

"Yeah, already told Rob I would," Blade yelled back through the open door. He'd showed up, didn't call ahead of time, and made himself right at home, the usual thing. Show up and show off.

Settling down a second time, Shooter popped the top, took a long gulp and shook his head thinking about the auction. He went along with almost anything but he wasn't doing that thing again. Wind blew in from north and chased nothing but water in front of it, but he'd seen a few snowflakes at this altitude, and he was comfortable sitting here and thinking about the evening ahead and the prospect of snow and a girl he liked to go along with the snow.

"I'll write 'em a damned check. I'm not doing that dance again, not after last year. That Redmond chick got pissy about the whole thing, like it was real, like I was going on a real date with her. Syd gave me shit about not playing nice but it wasn't what I signed up for. You're really going to do it again?"

Blade crossed his hands behind his head, stretched out long legs and grinned. "I think I can count on someone I know to pay for the privilege."

Shifting on the rail, Shooter set the beer down and looked back at the man he'd known through three of his four marriages. Was he doing it again? What the hell was wrong with him? This time the woman wasn't even a single lady, and the dude with the other ring...one very bad idea.

"You know, maybe you ought to slow down with this one. You said you're taking her to the RMA's, red carpet, after parties and the whole deal? She's still married to Coop, you think that's, you know, maybe not the best idea in the world?"

Laughing, Blade got up, crossed the deck and leaned back against the rail. "I can't wait to see his face! It's going to throw him off his game, wait and see, he'll blow it. He won't be coming alone either, you know that's not going to happen. It's better for Beth to be out in the middle of it with me than sitting at home watching him with another woman."

Shooter picked up his beer, drained it, frowning at him over the rim. "It's a bad idea, man. You do what you want, but it's one lousy idea."

“I know what I’m doing.”

Blade picked up one of Shooter’s skateboards, held it by the toe and studied it. Letting it fall, he placed his left boot on it and tried to balance. He kicked off with his other leg, the motion taking him careening, out of control, toward the stairs. Blade jumped off laughing as the board tumbled down and landed with a soft thud in the sand below.

Shooter winced; that was his favorite board. "You might want to be careful; you could end up falling on your ass and breaking something." Heading back to the kitchen for another beer he muttered, “like your damned hard head.”

South Beach - 60 Coast Road: 12 AM

"So is she like your dead wife?"

Duff poured another shot, looked at the glass and doubled it. Blue pool light rippled across the walls. The nude woman beside him had the complexion of a ghoul in that light, her nipples a ghastly shade of bleached pink, her nail polish almost black. He leaned back against the bar and took a drink. He could tell her he had never been married and let it go at that, but the remark amused him. "I don't have a dead wife."

He expected her to follow with 'ha ha' or 'I didn't know you were married' or 'who is she then'. She picked up her glass and drained it while looking at the painting and then said, "Oh." And she smiled. Her teeth shone, and they were blue like her skin. It was interesting; he wasn't sure he liked it, but it was interesting. Sliding one hand down, gripping one rounded globe of her ass, Duff studied the contrast in the color of his other hand against the pale breast it cupped.

"She's pretty even if she is dead." She was still smiling, searching for the right response and utterly failing to find it. He realized he couldn't remember her name. Cassandra. Or was it Charlotte...no Charlotte was Rob's dog.

Duff focused on the painting, the one thing in the room that didn’t appear cold. He took in every detail from the fiery branches behind her to the elegance of her neck down to the ripe curves of her breasts. A lovely, sensitive thoroughbred woman. He’d imagined the hours he could spend teaching her ways to please him, the things he could do to her. His body stirred in response.

He set his drink down on the top of the bar along with the rest of the evening's consumption. He'd drunk too much. Turning his back on the blue woman, walking carefully through the glimmer, using the mirror propped against the wall to steady himself, Duff left the room. "Show yourself out. And leave the cognac; I've spent enough on you tonight.”

South Beach Metro East - Blue Point: 10 PM

Rob leaned forward, propping his arm on the table, quiet, intent on the young woman on the stage. She sang, she played, she showed off a pair of remarkable legs, but he knew her better as someone who partied hard than as a musician. She wasn't bad; she was pretty good; she had her father's voice and some of his talent.

Patient, he waited until she finished the first set,placed her $50,000 Gibson in the rack and strutted offstage on those long legs before he turned his attention to his companion. "The idea is to get Cooper on board by asking his daughter to volunteer, or is there another reason you're spending time on a total unknown?"

Sydney watched the girl. From her seat, she could see the activity in the corner, a makeshift staging area, and she was obviously interested in whatever was going on. This was the third year he'd gone along with her, doing what he could even if it was sitting through appalling performances while Syd managed her celebrity auction for some charity that seemed to change from year to year. She smiled and reached across the table for his hand, stroking his palm and wrist. She wasn't wearing the diamond. She quit wearing it a year ago with no explanation, but she was still wearing the wedding band, that slice of engraved white gold she would probably always wear.

"I'm hoping to get both Wyatt and Cooper." She leaned forward over the clutter of glasses and cocktail napkins; no one had bussed the table after the third round of drinks leaving his empty shot glasses crammed up against what was left of Syd's gin and tonic. "Wyatt's here, right over there with Rayne, and I believe that's Jimmy Breaux. I can probably get commitments from Rayne and Wyatt tonight, perhaps Jimmy as well. Cooper...he'll be easier to approach if his son and daughter have already committed. He refused me last year. He never agrees."

Peeling off a couple of $20's and tossing them on the table among the trash, Rob straightened his jacket, irritably wiped something sticky off his hands. He was distracted, looking at the girl with her boy, trying to push it aside and give Syd's business his attention, and he was tired. He wasn't sure he'd filled Charlotte's water bowl before he left the house. Find the bright note...if Cooper agreed to join Syd's annoying 'buy a date' celebrity auction and actually showed up, that could work to the band's advantage. It was something.

"Maybe this year he will. Maybe he'd like to stick it to his ex. Or maybe she'll be so overwhelmed at the sight of the man that she runs right back to him."

Sydney touched the corner of his mouth, lingering a moment along the curve of his lower lip. "I don't believe the woman is as taken with Alex as he would like or expects, nor is he as serious about this one as he was with the others. Alex is playing a game with another man, not a woman. You worry too much, darling. Wait for me, I shouldn't be long.”

Hunching his shoulders against the edge in the air, Rob walked across the parking lot outside the club and leaned against the hood of his car. It had long gone cold; they'd been here for...he checked himself and did not look at his watch. Roughly an hour and 15 minutes, give or take five or six, more like five. He had nowhere in particular to go after they left, was in no hurry, and, except for the uncomfortable cold, didn't mind sitting around out here for another half an hour.

Years ago he'd learned how to stand in the cold, how long he could bear it, how to stay alert, and the memories weren't entirely unpleasant: the thrill made up for the frostbite. He didn't regret giving it up, though: he would have been caught eventually. Lights flashed inside the club. Rob felt the heavy beat of the music pound up through his body, strong and sensual, and he crossed his arms, shivered a little, closed his eyes and fell into that beat.

She slid her hands under his shirt, warmth against cold skin, silently rocking against him, nipping the side of his throat, biting down before turning her mouth to find his. He kept his eyes closed. He knew her taste, her scent, her rhythm, and it was dark and it was deserted. He slowly stroked her bare thigh, still warm, she was always warm, gliding higher until he wrapped long fingers around the silk ribbon of her panties. "Here," Sydney breathed into his mouth. The buckle on his belt clicked in the quiet as she loosened it. "Here and now, angel..."

The risk, the surge of adrenaline a pop, a high octane rush pumping heat into explosive sex, every time they risked it, every time was hotter than the last. One step around the side of the car into the shadow, and he was inside her moving in tempo with her gasps. One long silky leg moved higher wrapping around his hip drawing him closer and intensifying the act. Pulses racing, their breath misting in the night air they held each other as the last wave of orgasm washed over them.

Someone shouted from the other side of the parking lot, a long echoing WOOT WOOT of laughing appreciation, two men punching each other, one of the yelling WAY TO GO or something similar. Syd threw back her blond head on her long pale throat and laughed along with them.

"You're going home tonight?" He held the car door for her as she slid onto the seat, moving slowly, showing off her legs. She murmured yes. And kissed him. And drove off.

Rob stood for a while in the dark and the cold, watching the winter rain, watching the taillights disappear, before he kicked silently, absently, at trash on the pavement, got into his own car, started the engine and let it idle. The rain beat down on the windshield while he watched it and leaned back, wrapped stiff cold fingers around the wheel and drove the damned car out of the lot and onto the dark wet street.

------------------

NEXT CHAPTER: STUDIO TIME CHAPTER FOUR

Studio Time: Two

2010-12-28T16:15:00.000-08:00

South Beach Metro Area West: At First Bite - 1:29 PM

They had been at it for most of the day. Mercury Rising planned to release their newest CD in conjunction with the Rock Music Awards. The timing was perfect, and, he had to admit, none of them, not Heydon, not Aidan, certainly not Danny, had shown this kind of excitement, the prolific flare of creativity, he couldn't remember how long it had been. Cooper stepped outside and inhaled deeply. Sometime during the day it had rained; the air was fresh, crisp and bright. He’d needed to stretch his legs.

Cooper headed down the street taking long, leisurely strides toward a new bistro he found tucked into a side street. Aptly named At First Bite, they had a hot pastrami and Swiss that hooked him the minute he sank his teeth into it. The thought elicited a rumble from his stomach. He’d wash it down with a beer and head back to Hitman afterward.

Approaching the bistro, Cooper scanned the outdoor tables and debated whether or not to eat inside when a familiar figure caught his eye. His father, Eric, placed two cups of what Cooper assumed was espresso in front of a young redhead and sat. As far as Coop knew his parents had never strayed...hell, if they had he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Hesitating, debating between the pastrami and the possibility of catching his father in a tenuous situation, Cooper’s decision was made when his father spotted him and waved him over.

Cooper smiled and strode toward them. If his father had been up to anything there was certainly no evidence of it by the look of pleasant surprise on his face.

“Cooper! Come on over here; you remember the Mahoney family from the old neighborhood? This is Katie, their youngest. Sit, join us, I’ll grab another coffee while you get re-acquainted.”

Eric offered a seat and then headed back to the counter for the espresso. Cooper acknowledged her with a nod and smile. He didn’t remember her. She was pretty enough, young and fresh-faced with a distinct innocence about her. Cooper immediately set aside any notion that his father might be playing matchmaker. There would have been no way he could anticipate that Cooper would show up there. Relaxing, he attempted to break the silence.

“I’m at a disadvantage here...it’s been a long time since the old neighborhood. Have we met before?”

She smiled. Her face held that same star-struck expression to which he'd grown accustomed.

“We’ve never met but I know you. I am a big fan of your music...and of you. I was so excited when I ran into your dad at the music store! In fact I was going to ask him about you.”

Shit. “I see.”

Katie leaned into him.

“I read about your divorce. You must have women throwing themselves at you...although I guess that wouldn’t be anything new. It must be so hard for you. If you ever want to talk...I’d be very willing...”

Katie’s hand found its way onto Cooper’s leg, moving up past his knee to his thigh. His body immediately and surprisingly reacted.

Gently removing her hand, not missing the words she’d emphasized, Cooper shifted in his seat and flashed a charming smile at her. Katie was right about one thing, it wasn’t anything new but it wasn’t what he wanted. If she thought she had any chance with him beyond a quick fuck she was mistaken. Not with some girl from the old neighborhood with connections to his family.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in a trashy tabloid. They rarely print the truth. My wife and I are not divorced and I’ve never been inclined to discuss the details of my marriage with anyone.”

“Here you go, son, just the way you like it!”

Returning to the table Eric hesitated, looking from Katie to Cooper with a rather perplexed expression. Rising, Cooper ignored the coffee his father offered.

“Thanks Dad but I’ve got to get back. Give Mom a kiss from me.”

He moved quickly back toward the studio, the pastrami and Swiss long forgotten. Maybe he should call her, maybe he should write her a letter...he kept on walking frustration escalating with each stride.

South Beach Metro Area East: Chameleon - 10:41 PM

Melinda unlocked the door to her private office, entered and shut the door firmly behind her. It was dark. Leaning against the door, easing the tension from her body she breathed in the quiet solitude before flipping the light switch on. Turning she gasped, stifling a scream at the sight of a man sitting on her loveseat.

“Finding strange men in my private office is really starting to get old. How did you get in here?”

Cooper smiled up at her from the couch. He stretched his long legs out and rested both arms on the sofa’s back. Any other woman would have taken it as an invitation.

“I charmed the kitchen staff into letting me in. They told me there was a private party going on upstairs. I wasn’t interested in being noticed. And I’m not sure I like being referred to as strange.”

Laughing, she set a high-backed chair next to him, settled into it and studied him. If Melinda knew one thing it was how to read a man. Cooper was tightly wound, a potent combination of sexual tension and sensuality. It was one of the things Melinda’s girls loved about him. She had even heard one of them admit that she’d be willing to pay him for a tumble. But looking deeper, looking behind the mask of the man who was openly appreciating the woman in front of him, she could see pain.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He stood up and walked toward the fireplace, stared at his reflection in the mirror and then abruptly turned toward her.

“No, I want to fuck.”

Melinda’s place offered much more than the average gentleman's club. She decided awhile back that if she was going to run a whorehouse it would be the classiest and most exclusive club around. Her girls were beautiful, discreet, and highly skilled in all things sexual and sensual, but they weren't the only option for someone like Cooper.

“Coop, you could have any girl you wanted and at any time. Why come here?”

It wasn’t as if she really needed to ask the question. She knew the answer before he even opened his mouth. He was still in love with his wife. Anyone who knew him beyond the persona would see that. Cooper sighed and ran one hand through his hair, an uneasy, distracted gesture.

“Come on Mel, it isn’t like I want to go clubbing and meet a nice girl. I already met the girl; I trashed what I had and it doesn't look like I'm going to get it back. I’m not interested in dating or a relationship. I don’t want to deal with all the crap that comes with it. I need a good fuck - no strings, no empty promises to call, no expectations. Is your dance card free?”

He might need a lot of things but Melinda was certain he needed a friend. She would push it, try and get him to open up; maybe she could get him to see things differently.

“I’m a very good listener, Cooper. Talk to me; I’d like to help.”

“If you’re offering therapy the only kind I want involves you wrapping your legs around me. If that’s what you had in mind, then by all means, let’s talk.”

Folding her arms Melinda shook her head. “You know I won’t go there with you, Coop, not anymore.”

Cooper glanced away and then slid his eyes back to her. Any previous vulnerability, any sign of emotion had been replaced by pure, arrogant rock star.

“I know - figured I’d ask anyway. Since you won’t oblige I’d like that pretty little blonde, Lyra - and Onyx, both of them. Is the red room open?”

Studio Time: One

2010-12-20T23:53:00.000-08:00

Timing matters...watch the clock...

South Beach: 10:00 PM - #10 Coast Road

Blade waited for her half an hour after he arrived at Stanfield's place on the Coast Road, waited in a high white foyer hung with paintings of the man himself, and why the hell did she have them still hanging up there, while their little girl ran around and one of their teenage sons watched him, guarded and narrow eyed, a boy who was definitely Cooper's kid right down to the attitude. Did any of those kids spend more than a day a month, a day in three months with him?

She was late. He'd begun to think she was backing out, again. He had had enough of it; he was going to push it hard tonight. Rob's place was a good neutral setting. Cooper looked down at him from the massive wall wide painting, a warning, a threat he was beginning to take seriously. Not tonight, he thought, meeting that gaze across the room, you're not getting in my way tonight.

South Beach: 9:24 PM - #140 West Marina Drive

Shooter watched as Mackenna and Lily walked toward the bathroom together. He knew girls had some kind of unwritten rule that they went en masse to the restroom but it seemed a little weird in someone’s home. On the other hand, they were here with a rock band, drinking and partying. Shooter figured that might warrant some excited discussion in the privacy of the bathroom. He and Mackenna had instantly made a connection. She was laid back, shared similar interests and laughed at his stupid jokes.

He turned his attention to Duff leaning against the pool table and watching the girls with interest, a little too much interest for Shooter’s comfort. Shooter walked toward him.

“Hey man, you want to back off with Mac?”

Duff shifted his dark eyes toward Shooter before sliding them back toward Mackenna, allowing them to rake her body and linger on her ass for longer than Shooter liked.

In his typically smooth tone Duff replied, “Your inability to keep a woman interested is not my problem. Perhaps she's not that impressed with your boogie board.”

“Yeah? I don't see Lily crawling all over your ass. Wasn't she your sure thing? Maybe you should go beat off while looking at some girl in a picture.”

Shooter caught the flash of anger in Duff’s expression before he masked it again behind idle boredom. He’d struck a nerve, found a crack in the facade.

South Beach: 1:27 AM - #142 West Marina Drive

Blade eased past the large piano, a few barefoot strides from his bed across a room he didn't yet feel was his. He'd never lived in a house that felt like his own. The wall of glass faced the beach, lights from tall city buildings winked, sparkled, reflecting in the water, rising and falling and falling again, light in the water, light moving with the gentle swell. An unfamiliar vista. It was his house, and it was his view, and it was a good one. And it was one Beth had insisted he consider, leave the one he thought he wanted, try this one. She'd been right. She knew him.

His body was still warm having just risen from his bed. Stretching languidly he leaned against the grand piano and thought about Beth; their argument was still fresh in his mind. Blade wanted her more than he had wanted another woman in a very long time. He’d been patient with her not wanting to push it until her wounds had healed. But she had always been on the brink of letting go, of letting him in, until something, whether it was guilt, fear or her obsession with Cooper, pulled her back and she pushed him away. He’d said things he wished he could take back but the truth was he was tired of waiting. Either she wanted him or she cut him loose.

A soft sigh of sheets drew his attention. He smiled as he watched her shift under them. Blade carefully climbed into bed his weight causing the mattress to give under him. The blankets draped provocatively over her curves and as she stirred slightly, her lips curved into a half smile.

“Mmm, I thought you were getting us something to eat; I’m hungry.”

Blade playfully nipped at her ear allowing his eyes to slowly roam over her curves as he pulled the blankets aside. “I’m hungry too sweetness but it isn’t food I’m interested in right now, it’s you.”

South Beach: 9:52 PM - #140 West Marina Drive

"You've met Duff and Shooter, and you know Rob."

Blade kept her close as they walked into Rob's house, plant world, picky plant world. Rob didn't throw parties here unless he felt like he had to do it, got sideways about people screwing with his place. Beth felt easy against him, calm and relaxed, her arm tucked into his, and they'd gotten into it in the car after he'd parked, coming up into him, giving him her mouth and taking his, her hand down between his legs. He'd had trouble getting out of the car, and smiled down at her now.

"You know the deal with the women; Rob's girl Sydney is a friend, looks after his dog, the rest of them you can blow off."

Syd strolled past the trees and ferns and rocks, smiling, holding out her hands, dressed to fucking kill as usual, everything hanging out. Even before she greeted them, she checked the room, looking for something somebody spilled, something somebody knocked over. Rob's perfect woman, except for the fact that she was married and showed up when she pleased and didn't when she didn't please.

"Alex, you're late, we missed you, and you missed all the fireworks."

Somebody upstairs shrieked, giggled, and Sydney briefly cast her cool pale gaze up past the trees toward the upper loft, smiled, and looked back at them.

"Duff and Shooter and company. Or maybe Charlotte bit someone. You must be Beth Stanfield, and please don't worry about Charlotte, she really does not bite."

South Beach: 11:48 PM - #140 West Marina Drive

"Sydney." Looking out, looking down, one long clear view to the western shore of Bay View, the boats and the marina, water and wood and rock, somebody's boat tied up to the dock next door always knocking around, banging up onto shore, sailor next door running out hauling it up and dumping it back and looking right up into his windows.

He thought it would be private here. It wasn't private. He should move again. She sat down on the side of his bed after looking not at him but down at the pool. He loved her. He thought he loved her. He thought she loved him. She understood him. It was close enough.

"You said you wanted me to distract him. I need to do that now, can you keep Duff and Shooter from impaling one another while I take care of it?"

Looking down at Alex, with another woman who would fuck it up again, there would always be another one. Rob watched them. Hopeless. Screw it. "No."

South Beach: 3:47 AM - #142 West Marina Drive

The incessant purring of his cell phone slowly pulled Blade from a deep, dreamless sleep. He was relaxed, his body nearly boneless from marathon sex, his arm limp and dangling over the side of the bed. Reaching for the phone laying on the floor next to the bed he willed his eyes to open and focus on the caller ID. Groping for the cell several times he finally managed to find and wrap his long fingers around it.

Blade sat up tapping the screen as he rose and putting it to his ear. Still groggy he spoke into the cell his voice rasping, rough with sleep.

“Hey...it’s late...or early...is everything all right?”

He hadn’t expected to hear from her particularly not at this hour. What time was it anyway? Pulling his body off the bed he walked past the bathroom and towards the bar listening to her soft voice, hesitant, uncertain as she spoke.

“Look I’m sorry about the things I said...no, I’m not sorry about what I said, just the way I said it. I meant it though Beth. I want you and I want more than dinner and a movie; I think you do too if you’ll just give it a fair chance.”

He listened to her talk, gave her time, didn’t interrupt. Beth didn’t say anything he hadn’t already known or guessed at. She was having trouble with all of it, didn’t know how to let go. Blade let her go on hoping that speaking the words could convince her more and more that she was ready to move on. Her voice sounded weary; she must have been up all night.

“Beth, I’ll help you let go, let me do that for you.”

“Really...I’m not dreaming right?” Blade smiled. He needed to stop talking before she changed her mind.

“Listen, get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon and we can talk...just talk okay?” He hesitated and drew a breath. The RMAs...he’d ask her...tomorrow.

“You’ve made me really happy Beth; I intend to return the favor.”

South Beach: 11:59 PM - #140 West Marina Drive

Blade pulled Beth into a secluded corner near the pool, pressing her gently against the wall. Muted sounds from the rest of the guests confirmed they were out there alone. Sliding his hand along her side Blade cupped her breast while the other hand grazed her bare thigh as he slowly lifted the hem of her dress.

Beth pulled him tight against her body, rocking her hips up into his, sliding her hands down his back, slipping them down into his jeans, finding skin, raking gently with her nails, her breath coming hard and then gasping, tried to push him away.

“What's wrong...shhh...hey come here, nobody's watching, trust me.”

Taking her hardened nipple between his fingers Blade squeezed and twisted it, eliciting another gasp as he fumbled to unbutton his jeans and free his erection.

She leaned into him, reaching down, silking her fingers over him, a light skilled exploration, closing, tightening, both of them moving with it now finding the rhythm breathing into the heat, before she abruptly turned her face away, shuddering, pulling back.

“Oh god...no...I can't, I can't do this someone might see us...”

Keeping his stance in front of her, struggling with a raging hard-on, not allowing her to move, Blade glared down at her and fought for control, controlling his voice, keeping it low, keeping it even.

“This isn't about anybody watching us. You're doing the same damned thing you always do, you take it so far then you fucking shut down on me. Beth, I'm tired of this. What the hell do you think you're doing?”

"You don't understand, I can't do something like that to him again, I have to get out of here!" Beth shoved him hard, pushing back and using strength he hadn't known she had, determined and unexpected.

Moving in tight, Blade placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the wall. “No you don't...stop, stop NOW. Listen to me, are you listening to me?”

“Let go of me.” Beth’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him, breathing heavily from both anger and the heat that had been between them moments ago.

Throwing his hands in the air in frustration Blade moved back. “I'll let go. You want to know why? You're chasing a man who doesn't want a goddamned thing to do with you, you've got his damned pictures on your walls, you're doing everything but camping outside his house, and maybe you're doing that too. You know what you are? You're nothing but an obsessed woman stalking a fucking rock star. Hell no I don't want to hold onto you!”

South Beach: 3:51 AM - #142 West Marina Drive

“She sounds very special.”

Blade pressed the off button, moved toward the bedroom and the woman standing outside it, Danica, his third wife.

They’d been married a year before it fell apart. Out of all his ex-wives only Danica had remained on friendly terms with him. To be truthful it had been more than friendly considering what they had spent the better part of the night doing. Sex had never been a problem between them and they would meet occasionally, no strings, just mind-blowing sex.

“She is special.”

Danica moved toward him, taking his hand and pulling him down onto the rug. “Oh Alex...I’m happy for you. I do hope you’ll be careful; you lose your heart so easily.” She rested her head on his shoulder as her delicate fingers wove into his. “You mean so much to me still. I shouldn't tell you but I’ve always hoped we could...”

“Dani, don’t. You know I can’t give you what you want.”

She rose, shifted her position until her slender legs straddled his, her hands gliding along his chest until they rested on his broad shoulders. Aroused, Blade instinctively wrapped his hands around her waist pulling her toward him. “Dani...”

“Shh, don’t talk Alex. Just kiss me...”

**********

Authors' Notes: For insight into Danica we have posted a mosaic for her.

This was a departure from our normal style - something that we were very excited to attempt - and if we didn't get it across (as in me) this occurs all in one evening. If you run across any issues, images not loading, etc please give us a nudge...

Rendezvous

2010-11-28T09:59:00.000-08:00

South Beach: Coast Road, Ferguson Residence - 10 AM

Blade drew breath and listened to the voice on the other end. It was late morning, the ocean was calm and the skies were clear although in South Beach you never knew when a rain shower would breeze through. He stood on the deck, shirtless, wishing he’d had another cup of coffee before calling her.

“You need to understand this, I am not interested in getting involved with you or anyone else.” Beth’s tone was clipped and decisive, undercut by what sounded like water. Maybe she was outside.

Blade could sense that he may have pushed a little too much. Never one to give up on a challenge, and he was sure the prize was worth it, he switched directions. Backing off only a bit he kept his tone light. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you? I'm not asking you out on a date; it's business.”

She paused and Blade waited, imagined her thinking on the other end, not trusting himself to push further until she said something. He didn’t wait long.

“Blade, stop it please. This is not a good time for me, I'm really not into the games. It's not business. You know it and I know it. If you want to ask me out, do it, but no games.”

Satisfied that he had made it through at least one barrier, Blade smiled and gazed beyond the bridge, wondered if she was doing the same. He could hear the surf crashing through the phone. He’d won this round but he still had an uphill climb to win her trust - and her heart. In his most assuring voice, Blade answered. “No games...just dinner and some distraction. I can't do card tricks for you, but I promise I'll be entertaining.”

They’d settled on the time; he would pick her up in an hour. Moving toward the end of the deck Blade sighed and stared at the breakers. He had been serious about not playing games with Beth. He wanted her, knew her worth, at least he convinced himself of that last part. She was a woman of surprises and considerable strength. No doubt he had barely scratched the surface. Taking one last long gaze Blade inhaled and began formulating his plan to win her over.

South Beach - First Break: 11:00 AM

South Beach - Seaglass Corner: 12:00 PM

South Beach - Blue Moon Marina: 6 PM

Millwood - Parrot Pier: 10 PM

It had been a pleasant afternoon. They stood beside each other in the cool evening, comfortable and silent, listening to the ferries in the distance and the occasional gull. The salty air was crisp and damp, laced with the aroma of fish, both from the ocean and the seafood shacks that lined the beach down the road from where they stood. Beth glanced at him and broke the silence, “You've been married four times?”

Blade glanced down, reflected on those marriages and what he had hoped to gain from each one. Grinning sheepishly he confirmed it. “Yeah, four, kind of embarrassing to admit it. I haven't sworn off marriage yet; maybe that's excessive optimism, but I still want it, if I can find the right person.”

Beth turned to face him, her arm resting on the railing and a look of amusement in her eyes. “How old are you, twenty eight or nine? Thirty? Four is ridiculous. Maybe you ought to figure out why you keep driving the car into the ditch before you get back behind the wheel.”

His smile grew wide at the remark. Absently flicking a loose stand of hair from her cheek he challenged her. “Are you offering a refresher course in driver's ed?”

“You wouldn't want one from me. No doubt...NO doubt you've seen those photos of me in Probe.” Beth laughed and then turned away, gazing out at the darkness once more.

Blade moved closer, looking at her quietly, admitting, "I saw them; I've heard about the guy. You didn't go back to him when you split with Cooper, or is that still going on?”

Moving further down the pier Beth folded her arms, turned and shaking her head, answered, “No, it's over, it's been over for a long time. It was a terrible mistake, the one mistake I regret most, the one thing I would take back if I could.”

Taking several long, easy strides Blade stood before her. He searched her face, wondered what went on in her head, looking for an opening that could draw her closer to him, to earn her trust. “From where I'm standing, you look pretty damned human; you're allowed to make mistakes.” He paused, thought about it, thinking about what he knew about the man, what he'd done, what he'd done himself, looked away before fixing his eyes on her again. ”Coop was on the road all the time, doing what we do...it's a problem that ends a lot of marriages. My hands aren't clean either.”

“Don't try to excuse what I did. There isn't any excuse. It's not a math problem: you don't get to cancel it out....” Beth stopped, changed course, kept him off balance. ”You don't have any children? Out of all those marriages, no children?”

Blade moved with the grace of a cat, a very large, feral cat. Turning to gaze out at the surf and the lights lining the road back to the city, he answered, ”I grew up bouncing around from one place to another, and I hated it. It's no life for a kid. Children who grow up in this business, ninety percent of the time they're messed up. I'm not doing that to any child of mine.”

Blade looking back at Beth, realized how that sounded, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to include your kids in that group. I can be pretty damned insensitive, one of the reasons I'm single again.” He shook his head and lifted corners of his mouth in a wry smile.

“It's all right. It's been hard on all of them.”

“You stuck with him and all his shit for a hell of a long time though.”

Beth turned and the ease with which they had been talking seemed to lessen. “Let me make this perfectly clear, I do not want to hear anything negative about Cooper. No trash talk. No revelations. Nothing.”

Surprised, Blade attempted to turn things back around. He raised his arms in surrender and threw his best smile at her. “Absolutely. The man's a saint. Not a word otherwise. I never saw anything, I'll never say anything.”

Beth laughed and shoved him playfully, “You're an ass, Blade.”

Happy that he’d managed to move past her irritation he allowed his smile to widen as he reached for her. “I know, but I'm an interesting ass. Come on....aren't I?”

Beth smiled and moved just out of arm’s reach. “As long as you know you wear the ears, and that they're the most interesting thing about you, ok, I'll give you that much. I should go...it's getting too late..."

Moving slowly, carefully toward her, knowing he might be pushing too far but needing to take it further, Blade’s eyes narrowed slightly, “Too late for what, Beth? He's not there. I'll take you home if that's what you want, but you can make your own decisions now.”

He moved closer, lowered his gaze to her lush and inviting mouth, eyes darkened to an intense blue. Knowing the risk he was taking but unable to stop himself Blade leaned down, brushing her cheek with his lips, pulling her up against his body, slowly, waiting for her, letting her move first and maybe she did or maybe he imagined she did, but he found her mouth with his, and, finally, kissed her.

Recrimination

2010-11-27T09:56:00.000-08:00

South Beach: Stanfield Residence 2 PM

Beth opened the front door and welcomed the embrace Cooper offered. He held on tight breathing deeply, trying not to let the anguish he felt bleed through his arms. He was going to hurt her, he knew it, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. That moment had come and gone the morning he came home and kept his mouth shut while she held out her pain and guilt in open hands.

Reluctantly, Cooper released his hold running his hands along her arms. "Where are the kids?"

Before Beth could answer a peal of laughter rang out as Harmony bounded down the stairs. "Daddy! You came!" Running up to her father she threw out her arms as Cooper scooped her up and planted a kiss on her forehead. Behind her walking more slowly down the stairs were Nate and Eric.

Cooper rose looking directly at the twins, "Your grandmother is waiting for you in the car." Before they could respond Cooper glanced down at Hugs, "I think she said something about pancakes at the diner." As Harmony raced to the car Cooper shifted his gaze back to the boys, "Don't keep her waiting, go." Exchanging glances with their mother neither twin spoke as they left the house.

Beth folded her arms as she tilted her head slightly, watching his mother drive off, obviously confused. "Hugs has been waiting all morning to see you. Is everything all right with Rayne? Is that why you sent the kids off with Cass?"

"Rayne is fine, as well as can be expected I guess. She wanted to move out on her own; I said I'd help her. Baby, that's not why I'm here, can we go somewhere to talk?"

They walked down to the beach, a place that seemed to connect them to each other. Settling into the warm sand Cooper drew Beth down toward him until she sat facing the ocean as he slid his arms around her. "I love you baby." His words were little more than a sigh as he leaned into her. "I never meant to hurt you. I don't know how you manage to forgive me every time I fuck up but you do. It's a lot to ask and I don't deserve it but I'm asking - I need you to forgive me again."

Beth stood and Cooper rose with her. Wary, uneasy, she took a light breath and looked away out at the beach before facing him. "Coop I told you, it was my fault, I cheated. Nothing you have ever done compares with that, and whatever you do now, we're separated. You don't need to share it with me. I don't want you to.”

Cooper shut his eyes. He'd let her believe that lie and allowed her to bear the brunt of his mistakes. He had to tell her the truth, a truth that might end his marriage for good, not a choice he wanted but one that he created without anyone else's help. It wasn't Ryan or any of the women that fucked it up, not this time.

He wanted to reach out to her so he could hold her to him when she tried to pull away and leave him but his arms were like lead weights. His heart raced and his throat went dry. He was going to lose her, please don't let me lose her. “This isn't about anything that happened since I moved out. Beth, that night after I saw you with Ryan, there was something I didn't tell you. I went to Chameleon and talked to Melinda, that part is true, I was there but not all night." He drew a breath; this was it, the final cutting words. "I went to Millwood, to Gemma Wilson's place. I slept with her."

Beth took a little half step back, stumbling in the sand, walking carefully, slowly, a few steps up the stairs away from the beach. “Who,” she started, stopped, began again, “Gemma Wilson..she's that woman who looks like Julia...she's Julia's cousin. What are you saying, that you've been seeing Julia's cousin?”

"No, God no! I was angry at her, at you, at Ryan. I never intended to fuck her it just happened! I thought I'd lost you and I wasn't thinking straight. Shit Beth I wasn't thinking at all." Coop rubbed his forehead before continuing. "She came to see me last night at the hotel to tell me she's pregnant. She thinks it's mine but baby she's going to have to prove it before I'll believe it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that night. I'm asking you to forgive me, please."

A long moment passed. Her silence hung between them, and for the first time since he had known her, Cooper could not read her. If she'd shouted at him, hit him, something, he could deal with that but not her silence. "Beth...I know you're probably upset..."

"Upset?” She started slow, her voice picking up speed, breath after breath, finding octane, coming right at him hurtling at him.

“I’m ‘upset’," she said, biting it off. "Coop, I am 'upset' when Nate and Eric break curfew. Upset. You let me hang out there, the bad one, the one who cheated, and you used it, you used it. You left me there to cry my eyes out scared and worried and wondering where you were and if Ryan had really hurt you and all the while you were rolling around in bed with Julia’s cousin? And she's pregnant? With your child? And you didn't feel even the slightest bit strange when I broke it off because I thought we would never get past Ryan, and you were standing there fresh off her bed...and I am UPSET? I don't even know you. Who are you?!"

"Beth, I know I'm not a perfect man, but you have to believe me when I tell you it didn't mean anything. I should have come clean but I thought we could put everything behind us and start again. I still want that." Cooper reached out to her but she pulled away anger and horror written all over her face. And worse, disappointment.

"Don't touch me! I've blamed myself all this time, overlooked your behavior because I didn't have the right to say anything and you think this is about believing you? I don’t care if it didn’t mean anything! That is not the point! Your betrayal is not the fact that you fucked some girl; it's that you let me carry the blame so you wouldn't have to face yours."

She stood there cool, tightly controlled, and quiet. Cooper held his breath and waited. "You need to go," she said without looking back at him. "Now. Before the kids get back. You have to go. I don't want to see you again." Without another word Beth moved toward the house her head held high but even then Cooper could see her trembling.

"I'm not going to let go. Beth, listen to me, I need you, we need each other. We know each other...I am not letting go!" Cooper thought she might have said something but if she did, her words were lost, carried away, carried away by the wind and the tide and each and every long quiet step she took away from him, each and every single and irrevocable footstep going away.

Riptide

2010-11-26T09:53:00.000-08:00

Oceanside - The Palms: 7:49 PM

By the time Gemma tracked Cooper down at the Palms she was prickly, hot, and irritable. They stonewalled her at Hitman. Cooper wasn't there and the girl in reception had refused her repeated inquiries as to his whereabouts. It had taken time and several phone calls before she tracked him down at the Palms. Hailing a cab, she made it to the hotel as the sun was beginning to set. Flirting with the bellhop at the front desk scored her the correct room number. Stifling a wave of nausea, maybe it was just her nerves and not the hormones, Gemma firmly knocked on the door and braced herself having no idea what she was going to say.

Coop had just showered and pulled on a shirt when he heard the knock. There was no way Rayne could have made it that quickly from Sandy Point. Moving toward the door he pulled it open and found the last person he wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"May I come in please?"

"No, you can't. I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see you again."

Gemma pushed past him. "Yes, crystal clear but what I have to say is best handled where we can't be overheard."

Fully aware that Rayne would be there soon Coop eyed Gemma suspiciously and left the door propped open. "You've got three minutes and then I'm tossing you into the hall."

She stood arms folded and glared back at him coldly. "Fine. Have it your way then. I'm pregnant."

Cooper froze and then kicked the door shut with his boot. Shaken, his guts twisted in knots, he couldn't flat out deny it was his; he'd taken her unprotected more than once that night, but he'd be damned if he was going to take responsibility on her word alone. Highly doubtful that he'd been the only one she'd screwed during that time, he didn't even know if she was making it up. She wouldn't be the first woman to claim he was the father of some kid.

He moved toward her, menacing, threatening, white hot anger searing through him, and growled, "I don't believe you. From the second I laid eyes on you I knew you were trouble. Why are you even telling me this - what makes you believe it's even mine? You got what you wanted. That kid - if there even is one - if you think you're going to hold that over my head - I'll destroy you."

Gemma stepped back until her thighs hit the table. Reaching back she braced herself and in as calm a voice as she could manage replied, "You know perfectly well why I think it's yours. I don't want anything from you...I thought you should know."

"Damn you, that's bull shit! You're going to stand there and tell me you haven't been with anyone else? You don't want anything? Don't fuck with me Gemma! I'll rip you to shreds! I don't want anything to do with you or any kid of yours!"

Her face went white and he could see fear and anger in her expression but Gemma held her ground. "You think I wanted a baby, that I orchestrated this? You're insane! I never invited you to my bed! I wanted a fucking contract! If it gets out that it's yours, it could ruin me!"

Cooper glared at her, anger roiling inside him. His voice was grim, cold, unfeeling and flat. "Get rid of it."

Gemma drew a breath - Coop wondered if she'd even begin to breathe again. He wished that she wouldn't. "I...I can't."

"You can't?? You mean you won't!" Clenching his fists, how the hell could he have been so damned stupid, Cooper threatened, "I want nothing to do with this. You breathe one word, you come near me or anyone in my family, you give anyone the slightest idea that this kid might be mine and there won't be a corner in this world where you can escape what I will do to you. I swear Gemma I will kill you. Now get out!"

~~~~~

Yanking her hair up, struggling with windblown tangles, Rayne found a clip in her purse, took it in her teeth and forced her hair into it. The valet parking guy was staring at her. It was a rental, let him stare, let him tow it, she didn't care.

She started inside, stopped, nervous and tired and briefly reviewed what she wanted to say. Hi Dad, sorry about bitching you out, I need money. Why had she thought this was a good idea? She didn't even have a place to stay tonight if he turned her down or ordered her back into rehab. There was Randi...but Toad's comment about Nic bothered her...she didn't want to push that, it would be really strange and awkward.

Uneasy, she went out into the courtyard, standing there in the spray between the fountain and the heavy heaving pounding surf and tried to remember the room number. Was it 102? She could call him again. She didn't want to call him again. He might change his mind.

A door opened, slammed shut, and there at the end of hall was Gemma Wilson. Walking right out of Room 102 with attitude and not bothering to even see if anybody else saw her.

One long sashay through the hotel past the luggage and the chairs and the damned bellboy, all that black hair swinging and red shoes tapping on the tile just as if it made absolutely no difference in the world if somebody knew she'd come out of Cooper Stanfield's hotel room.

Rayne watched her until Gemma caught a taxi. She followed her back outside and watched until the taxi disappeared going east, not the way to South Beach, so the bitch was going home to Millwood. It was hard to move, hard to breathe; that whore, she knew it she KNEW it and there it was. Got some new great contract deal going on, Gemma? Need to stop by his hotel room to use his big pen again?

She fought it, digging her nails into her palms, trying to focus on why she was here, she couldn't take her on, not now; if she did, she lost any chance of getting what she'd come here for. Walk. Go. Be sweet, be very very sweet, and wait your turn at her because it will come, it's coming.

~~~~~

Cooper slammed the door behind Gemma and paced the length of the room, distracted, shaken, desperately trying to think of some way, any way he could manage this. As much as he would like to believe the gossip and rumors wouldn't reach his family, he knew they would.

The phone rang. He jumped, startled, hesitated for a couple of seconds, uncertain he would even talk coherently, then picked it up and answered cautiously, "Yeah?"

It was Beth. Coop listened, blank, as she told him she'd just finished up with Blade, adding dryly, 'what a piece of work', then asked if he was coming over. Hugs was expecting him. She sounded happy and hopeful and calm; she sounded like she wanted him.

"I can't," he began and almost choked on the words. "Rayne, uh Rayne called, said she wanted to talk. Tomorrow, I'll be there as soon as I can tomorrow. I'm sorry."

There was a pause, then she said, "That's fine. If Rayne wants to talk to you, that's more important. Cooper, are you all right?"

He could not possibly respond to that. Gripping the phone, he came up with some lame reassurance, lying, hearing the disappointment in her voice. Damn it, if he'd been able to get there tonight, maybe he could have convinced her to let him stay; Blade obviously hadn't made any headway. He needed time to think, time to come up with some way to explain...Gemma if that was real, he had to explain....he couldn't do it tonight. Fucking idiot, you screwed up before but this time you've really torn it all apart.

Another knock on the door; he pulled himself together, quickly buttoned his shirt, and there stood Rayne, glaring at him. "This is a surprise," Cooper managed to say, "a good surprise. Come on in."

She marched in and strode to the door leading to the balcony and stood there, her posture tight and stiff, not even facing him as she said, "I decided I want to set up on my own for a while. I don't have any money and I was wondering if you'd help me out."

He kicked absently at the foot of the bed with the toe of his boot, completely unable to focus. If his daughter needed money, he'd give her money, it was the least he could do now. "Sure sweetheart, whatever you need, it's yours."

Rayne crossed the room, circling close to the bed, examining it as if searching for something before she stopped uncomfortably close and stared up at him.

It was a long challenging look, very direct, and he began to wonder why. "Really...well thanks. Dad, you know who I saw just now? I saw Gemma Wilson, coming out of your room. Is that why you gave Jimmy that contract, because you're sleeping with that woman?" Cooper realized, a sickening realization, why she had been studying the bed.

Stunned, his heart hammering in his chest, Cooper folded his arms, struggling hard to retain some composure. "I am definitely not going out with Gemma Wilson. She stopped by because she had something she thought was urgent...she was mistaken. Rayne, I love your mother; I always have and that has not changed."

She sat down on the end of the bed and, in a quieter voice, countered, "Maybe you think this is none of my business, but I was going to join Jimmy's band, and I can't do that if you're involved with his agent. This is about more than just you and Mom. I know all about Ryan, and I wouldn't blame you if you split when that happened, but none of this makes any sense. What is going on with Gemma?"

Something about the way she was sitting there watching him reminded him of the little girl she'd been, stubbornly demanding a toy or a trip to the beach, relentless but endearing. "Rainie...it's complicated...this business, people crawl out of the woodwork wanting things, pulling at you, latching on for the ride. Your mother and Ryan...I...was angry about that...didn't understand...Gemma...thought Julia was her ticket in the door. Shit baby I'm no saint, I'm not perfect...it doesn't mean anything..." What the hell was he saying, Cooper exhaled and shifted his eyes toward Rayne.

He could see her confusion, emotion playing across her face, turning, changing, suspicion replaced with a slow, dawning, unsettling fury. Cooper took a step back and began, "It's not what you think - "

Before he could finish, Rayne slid off the bed, reached out for her father, and wrapped him in a long shuddering and completely unexpected hug. "You don't know what I think," she whispered fiercely. He leaned down and held onto her tight, his rough, weary voice against her hair, "Raindrop..."