CHAPTER ONE
A.J. Diamond stood in the oblong shadow of the Serpentine Records building, so awestruck
by the glass and steel monolith that she was oblivious to the cacophonous sounds of
traffic around her, oblivious to the choking layer of smog hovering over Los Angeles,
oblivious to the jewel case clutched in her hand. But it wasn`t the towering spire itself
that left her standing there mesmerized like a volunteer for a performing hypnotist; it
was the history the building represented to her. For more than half a century Serpentine
Records created the best music ever made. Somewhere in the bowels of that beast Ashleigh
Cross recorded her current single "Throwin` Good Love After Bad." It was more
than just a building, more than just a collection of offices and recording studios. So
much more.
For A.J. it was a wonderful, magical place, an antique Persian lamp to be rubbed that a
single wish might be granted her. Just one wish. That`s all she would ask, given the
chance.
A.J. ran a hand through her unruly mop of fiery red hair and sighed. She knew it was
naive and more than a little silly for a twenty-three year old who had been around the
block a few times to think about things like that, but gazing at the Serpentine Records
building she just couldn`t help herself. It brought out her inner Pollyanna. That
building, that rather ordinary-looking skyscraper lost in the skyline of downtown Los
Angeles represented everything she had worked so hard for, was the reason she had left
friends and family in Georgia and moved across the country, was why she waited tables all
day and sometimes all night to scrape together enough money to record a demo of her best
songs and burned them onto the CD in her hand. That building was her sole reason for
living.
Well, A.J. thought, it was really the music that was her sole reason for living. But it
just wasn`t enough to sit alone in her apartment with a guitar and sing to the tatty
pieces of furniture she owned. And she wanted more than to perform her songs for a handful
of drunks at one dive after another after another. She wanted to share her music with the
world, to be heard, listened to. The need drove her like the riding crop of a jockey at
Churchill Downs. Life might have been much simpler--and she much happier--if she could
learn to be content with the outlets available to her. But A.J. craved more, hungered for
it more than she hungered for food or sex or affection. If nothing else, she had to at
least try for something more out of life.
A.J. glanced down at her watch. She still had an hour before she had to be at work, and
if her reconnaissance paid off less than fifteen minutes before she could put her plan
into action.
For the last two weeks she had been staking out the Serpentine Records building like a
cat burglar. But she wasn`t planning a midnight raid; her goal for the last two weeks had
been to learn the comings and goings of the people who worked there. In that time she`d
learned that one of the janitors liked to have a quick smoke while he took out the trash,
that the security guard who watched over the adjacent parking lot spent more time reading
than keeping an eye on the expensive cars parked in the lot, and that Joshua Stringer, the
CEO of Serpentine Records, arrived at work via black stretch limo every morning at eleven
without fail. The regularity of his schedule bordered on eerie. After the first week A.J.
began to formulate her plan, and now she felt ready to act on it. Nervous, but ready.
Today would be the day she took her chance.
A.J. glanced at her watch again and her pulse quickened. It was quarter to eleven.
Another five minutes and she could move into position across the street. She didn`t want
go over there too soon and risk the security guard noticing her, but she didn`t want to
wait too long either just in case Joshua Stringer for whatever reason altered his
otherwise dependable schedule.
Just five more minutes. It might as well have been five hundred years.
As A.J. contemplated jumping the gun and crossing the street ahead of schedule a silver
Mercedes pulled up to the curb. She caught her reflection in the tinted passenger side
window and studied herself, wondering if the lemon colored halter-top and jeans she had on
would make a good first impression with Joshua Stringer. The outfit managed to show off
her best features without making her look too obvious, though she wasn`t exactly above
baring a little skin or wearing tight jeans that accented her backside if it got Joshua
Stringer to listen to her demo. She hated to admit that, even silently, but deep down she
knew it was the truth.
The disapproving scowl on her face disappeared with the rest of her reflection as the
passenger-side window slid down to reveal the person--the man--behind the wheel. From what
A.J. could see from the curb the man was in his forties, well tanned, with a mop of auburn
hair showing the first hints of gray at the temples. He had on a white dress shirt with
the sleeves rolled up and a red tie with a gold tiepin. The first word that sprang to mind
when she looked at him was distinguished. He looked very distinguished.
"Need a lift?" the man asked her.
"Nope," A.J. replied, shaking her head. "I`m fine. Thanks."
The man looked her over and smiled. "Would two hundred dollars change your
mind?"
A.J. gaped at him. God! He thought she was a hooker! Was it her outfit that made him
think that, or the fact that she was standing on the street? Perhaps it was both. Or maybe
this guy was just an asshole. Whichever it was, A.J. didn`t know whether to be angry with
the jerk or embarrassed that she might actually look like a hooker! Ultimately she settled
on anger.
"Since you can`t afford me," A.J. told him with the sweetest smile ever to curl
her lips, "why don`t you take that two hundred dollars, roll it up, and shove it up
your ass you filthy pig."
The man stared at her, his incredulous expression slowly morphing into a scowl. He put
the Mercedes into gear and pulled sharply into traffic, a move that earned him a chorus of
honking horns from oncoming cars and a satisfied smirk from A.J. as she watched the
Mercedes head down the street.
What a loser, she thought as the Mercedes disappeared from view. Unfortunately Los
Angeles was full of men like that. Not that it affected her much since men were forever
off her dance card. Though she still had to deal with them. At the moment, however, the
only man that mattered to her was Josh Stringer.
Oh shit! The plan!
A.J. checked her watch. She should have been across the street by now! If she didn`t
hurry she would miss him!
Finding a break in traffic, A.J. darted across the street in a panic. How could she let
herself get distracted like that? Two weeks of meticulous planning was now in jeopardy
because some prick thought she was turning tricks! But she could curse him--and
herself--later. She had to stick with the plan.
A.J. forced herself to slow down a little once she got across the street. It wasn`t a
lost cause yet. There was still plenty of time, and she was almost in position now. Her
heart beat a little faster and not just from zigzagging through downtown traffic. She was
really going to do it. After all the planning and working her butt off, after all the
dreaming and hoping and wishing, she was really, finally, going to do it. This was her big
chance and she was going to take it.
The black stretch limo pulled around the corner right on schedule and rolled to a gentle
stop in front of the Serpentine Records building. A.J. stood near the main entrance,
hugging the building, far enough away that she wouldn`t draw the attention of the security
guards inside but close enough that she could head Joshua Stringer off at the pass. Sweat
gathered at the small of her back and her mouth felt like the lint filter of an old
clothes dryer. But none of that mattered when the limo driver came around and opened the
back door.
A.J. tightened her grip on the jewel case in her hand, so much that she was afraid it
would crack. The first person to emerge from the limo was a leggy brunette around her age
that she had seen with Joshua Stringer before, though what her relationship to Stringer
was A.J. still didn`t know. But the woman was definitely hot, tall, slender, with curves
in the places A.J. liked them best. Her dark, shoulder-length hair swished when she moved
as if on cue, as if a camera were focused on her at all times. The outfits A.J. had seen
her in were always conservative, very professional, and today was no exception. She had on
a navy blue skirt suit that managed to show off a great pair of legs without looking
cheap. A.J. was so entranced by them that she nearly didn`t see Stringer get out of the
limo.
When A.J. first saw a picture of Joshua Stringer in Rhythm & News magazine, she
thought he looked impressive. He was even more so in person. It wasn`t that Stringer was
physically imposing. Far from it. Actually, he looked rather ordinary in a white sports
jacket over a sky blue Oxford shirt with button down collar, his black denim jeans tucked
into alligator skin boots, his graying hair pulled into a ponytail. On looks alone he was
run-of-the-mill.
But there was something about him, some vibe he put out that wowed even the most casual
observer.
It was pure, unrefined charisma.
A.J. waited until Stringer was out of the limo and heading for the door then approached
him. "Mr. Stringer?"
He looked at her, unsure at first if he knew her ... then unsure that he wanted to.
"Who are you?"
"A.J. Diamond. I`m a singer. Mr. Stringer, if you would just listen to this--"
Stringer waved her off before she could even show him the CD in her hand. "I really
don`t have time."
"It`s worth your time," A.J. assured him.
Stringer laughed. "Every singer thinks so."
"I know it," A.J. replied confidently. "If you would just--"
"Don`t tell me," Stringer said, holding up a hand to stop her. "If I would
just listen to your demo I would see how talented you are, that you are the next Ashleigh
Cross just waiting to be discovered, that one of the songs on your CD is the next number
one hit for Serpentine Records. That sound about right? Listen, honey. There are a hundred
girls just like you who feel exactly the same way. The only thing that makes you different
from the rest is you`re the only one of them who is making me late."
And with that Stringer brushed passed her.
"If you change your mind I`m playing at Tuscano`s tonight," A.J. shouted after
him. But it was too late. Stringer was already inside.
It took A.J. a moment to realize the well-dressed brunette was still there. The woman
gave her a sympathetic look then followed after Stringer, leaving A.J. alone on the
sidewalk, her CD in hand. She couldn`t believe that was it, that all her hopes had been
dashed in less than two minutes of conversation! There had to be more. Had to be! Maybe
later she would think of something, but for now she was too numb to think straight.
Besides, she had to get to work ... get back to reality, where she was just another
wannabe waiting tables to make ends meet. Maybe someone else would pull over to the curb
and offer her two hundred bucks. With the way things were looking up for her, she might as
well take it.
* * * *
Robyn Katz stared at the computer monitor on her desk without really seeing what was
displayed there. In fact, for all she knew she wasn`t even at her desk in the reception
area outside Joshua Stringer`s executive suite. The Serpentine Records building could have
collapsed into a pile of rubble all around her and Robyn wouldn`t have noticed. She had
been in a sort of daze all morning, ever since she got to work. Or, more accurately, ever
since that gorgeous redhead appeared out of thin air and rushed her boss on the street.
The image of the woman was so clear in her mind Robyn caught herself reaching out as if
she could actually touch her. How long had it been now since she had seen that woman? An
hour? Two hours? Three? Robyn wasn`t sure. But she could still see the redhead as clearly
now as she had on the street, could see the cute little freckles on her face, could see
the innocence in her gorgeous brown eyes, could see that hot little body of hers in a
halter top and tight jeans.
Just thinking about it made Robyn smack her lips in hunger.
It was more than her looks, though. There was something about the redhead that fascinated
her, something she had picked up on in the brief exchange the woman had with Mr. Stringer.
The woman had chutzpah, no two ways about it. Not many struggling musicians would have the
nerve to rush Joshua Stringer right there on the street! Robyn admired that. She liked
women who were willing to take chances, who believed in themselves enough to put it all on
the line.
It should have counted for something.
Robyn bristled at the memory of Mr. Stringer brushing the woman off like she was an
unwanted piece of dirt on his sleeve. The redhead deserved better. As a practical matter
Robyn knew her boss couldn`t listen to every demo tape every hopeful singer ever sent to
him. Hundreds of them arrived in the mail every day, and Robyn knew that better than
anyone since it was part of her job as Mr. Stringer`s personal assistant to deal with
unsolicited material. But rules were meant to be broken, and Robyn felt for a long time
now that her boss needed to make an exception every once in a while, to take a chance and
give people a break. How often had Stringer lamented about the lack of new talent signed
to his record label? More than she could count, that`s for sure. Robyn knew the talent was
out there, right in front Stringer if he would just open up his eyes and see what was
standing right in front of him.
Like that redhead, Robyn thought.
The look of disappointment on the woman`s face made Robyn ache. She`d just wanted to hug
the redhead right there on the sidewalk. Well, she`d wanted to peel off her clothes and
ravish her right there on the sidewalk, or maybe shove her into the back of Mr. Stringer`s
limo and have her on the backseat. But in either case the need to comfort the woman ran
deeper than ocean waters. Had it shown? The two of them had shared a long look before she
caught up to her boss in the lobby. Had the redhead seen her genuine concern? Could the
redhead tell she was attracted to her? Or had the look been dismissed out of hand, as
nothing important ... nothing meaningful?
Robyn slumped her shoulders. She should have said something--anything!--to the redhead,
gotten her number, her name ... wait! She did have her name! The redhead introduced
herself to Mr. Stringer. But what was it? Sapphire? Ruby?
Diamond! That was it! Her last name was diamond.
How fitting, Robyn thought. The redhead was very much like a precious jewel, something to
be admired and appreciated. But that wasn`t all Ms. Diamond told her boss that morning.
Robyn remembered the redhead saying she would be playing at Tuscano`s that night. Though
she`d never been to that particular club before, Robyn knew Tuscano`s by its reputation.
It was considered a fertile breeding ground for new talent, the club where all the cutting
edge bands in town performed. The fact that the redhead had a gig there said a lot about
her, as much if not more than a demo tape ever could.
If the redhead was playing there, she had to be good.
I`m going to see for myself, Robyn thought.
* * * *
When her first break of the morning came at last A.J. ducked into the storeroom in the
back of the diner with a mixture of relief and apprehension. The breakfast rush had been
more hectic than usual and left her absolutely wiped. Her back ached and her feet were
desperate for a vigorous massage. When she hadn`t been under verbal assault from rude
customers she had been sidestepping the advances from lecherous ones. The tips hadn`t even
been worth all her trouble. On the other hand she had been so busy waiting tables she
mercifully never had time to think about her disastrous encounter with Joshua Stringer
that morning.
And she didn`t want to.
The storeroom was the size of the walk-in closet of her dreams, with industrial strength
shelving units filled with everything from gallon jugs of ketchup and mayonnaise to boxes
of napkins and straws. It was her private refuge. The floor-to-ceiling shelving units that
lined the middle of the room created a barrier between and the world outside. A.J. took
all her breaks there, even the unofficial ones. The storeroom was the ideal place to find
a moment of peace on a rough day or have a quick bite to eat when her lunch break came.
She had even written a few songs there.
When she felt like being alone, the storeroom was her sanctuary. Only she didn`t exactly
feel like being alone just now, so her usual sanctuary instead felt like a mausoleum, cold
and lonely and depressing.
A.J. retreated to the far corner of the storeroom and slid to the floor with a
self-pitying sigh. She leaned her head against the cold metal frame of a shelving unit and
closed her eyes, wishing she could forget all about what happened outside Serpentine
Records. But she just couldn`t. The morning replayed itself all over again in her mind,
like a rerun of a bad TV show that she couldn`t turn off. How could things have gone so
wrong so quickly?
Deep down A.J. knew it was long a shot from the start. What were the odds that Joshua
Stringer would accept a demo tape from someone who just walked up to him on the street? A
million to one, maybe?
But A.J. had been convinced that she would be that one in a million, that she would beat
the odds and Stringer would listen to her demo tape ... that he would be so impressed with
her songs that he would sign her to Serpentine Records on the spot and she`d start
recording her first album before the week was over. Was that unrealistic? Of course. But
how many times had she read in Rhythm & News about some band that signed a lucrative
recording contract because the drummer`s girlfriend`s little sister worked as a babysitter
for a big shot at some record company and tricked them into hearing the band`s demo by
leaving it in their CD player one night? Hadn`t The Toads been a musical guest on Free
Friday Nights by waiting outside the studio one morning and playing for the executive
producer as she came into work, performing right there on the street? Things like that
happened all the time. So why couldn`t it happen to her?
A.J. breathed a heavy sigh. What did it matter now? Nothing changed the fact that it
didn`t happen to her. Despite her convictions she wasn`t that one in a million, she didn`t
beat the odds. She was just another disappointed hopeful, one of many struggling musicians
who couldn`t catch a break. Maybe Stringer had unwittingly done her a favor by bursting
her naive bubble and bringing her back down to reality.
And this was reality.
Sitting alone on the dirty floor of a storeroom surrounded by drums of fruit cocktail and
pickle relish was reality. It certainly wasn`t the life she envisioned when she left
Georgia, though.
Thoughts of home dragged a very different kind of sigh across her lips. She missed her
family, her friends, the simplicity and slow place of life in a rural Southern town. There
were definite advantages to living in the small pond. Back in Clayton she was celebrated,
the girl with the songbird voice. It hadn`t been so bad playing honky-tonk bars on the
weekends, horsing around with Sally Wilson in the backseat of her car after a show.
So why had she been so eager to get out of Clayton?
Because she had bought into the theory that there was more to be had out there, much more
than a small Georgia town had to offer. She dreamed of sold-out concerts around the world,
thousands of screaming fans huddled together in a mass of humanity just to hear her sing.
But that`s all it ever had been ... a dream.
A.J. pulled herself off the floor and smoothed out her waitress uniform. Her break was
over. It was time to head back to reality.
* * * *
The line outside Tuscano`s would have concerned Robyn if she hadn`t used Mr. Stringer`s
connections in the industry to put her on the VIP list. She gave her name to the surly man
working the door and waited anxiously while he looked over the clipboard in his hand. The
longer he stared down at the clipboard the faster her pulse raced, until Robyn felt
lightheaded. Maybe Stringer`s contacts weren`t as reliable as she thought! Robyn took a
deep breath and released it slowly, trying to look casual while underneath her new black
silk blouse and flattering khakis her skin felt like it was being used for a pincushion.
Just the thought of not getting in to see the redhead perform made her pulse race a mile a
minute and twisted her insides into knots.
But just when Robyn thought she would pass out the pony-tailed guy at the door waved her
through, much to her relief and the chagrin of the crowd lined up to get in. Robyn ignored
their exasperated groans and headed inside. She needed a drink!
The club turned out to be one of those places that managed to be trendy by trying hard
not to be trendy. Everything was casual, rummage-sale chic. Tables were scattered around
like an afterthought and semi-enclosed booths lined both the left and far back wall. Most
of the right wall was taken up by an L-shaped bar. What passed for a stage was really
little more than a raised dais, mimicking the intimate feel of an old beatnik coffeehouse.
The area in front of the stage was cleared and a few couples were dancing to the thudding
beat of techno that bounced between the walls like a racquetball ball.
Robyn navigated her way through the crowd without stepping on too many toes and found a
seat at the bar that gave her a decent view of the stage. She quickly flagged down the
bartender and laid a twenty on top of the bar.
"Brandy old-fashioned, sweet," she told him. "With an olive."
The bartender took the bill and nodded.
Turning slightly on her barstool, Robyn looked out over the club with an impressed nod.
The place was packed. She doubted most of the people waiting in line outside would ever
get in. Was anyone else there just to see the redhead perform, or was Tuscano`s really
that popular? Probably the latter. Though Robyn wouldn`t have been surprised to learn the
redhead had more than a few fans in the audience, too.
Her name was A.J. Diamond.
Robyn got that little tidbit of information when she called the club to ask when the show
started that night. When the woman on the phone informed her the show started at
nine-thirty she was heartbroken. She would have to wait that long to see the redhead
again? It seemed like forever! But finally there she was at the bar at Tuscano`s waiting
for A.J. Diamond to take the stage.
It wouldn`t be long now.
The thought of seeing the redhead made her pulse race even faster than it had at the
prospect of not getting into the club and Robyn chased away a self-deprecating chuckle
with a sip of her drink. She was behaving just like the obsessed groupies that gathered
outside Serpentine Records whenever Ashleigh Cross was rumored to be in the building. She
had waded through enough of them to recognize the signs. How could she be so far gone
after one fleeting encounter on the street? It was crazy!
But then Robyn thought about the redhead and how beautiful she looked, how the moment
their eyes met she was desperate to see if those adorable freckles on her face continued
down the length of her entire body, if that fiery red hair could be found other places.
The thought made Robyn stir in her seat.
It was foolish, she knew. What made her think the redhead swung that way? And even if she
did, a woman that stunning had to have someone in her life.
Robyn took another sip of her drink. The room was full of beautiful women, all of them
younger and firmer and hipper than she would ever be and the gorgeous A.J. Diamond could
probably have her pick of them.
But Robyn had to see her again. The need consumed her like wildfire. It burned white-hot
in the pit of her gut. She had to see A.J. Diamond.
Then the music stopped, the lights dimmed, a disembodied voice whispered the redhead`s
name and the entire place erupted with applause loud enough to rattle the heavens. Robyn
looked to the stage, heart stopping as the redhead almost timidly stepped up to the
microphone. She had a guitar strapped on over her T-shirt and jeans. Stage lights lit up
her face, making her look angelic, ethereal, and more beautiful than ever.
But then she started to sing.
If Robyn thought she wanted A.J. Diamond before she had been kidding herself. What she
felt that morning when their eyes briefly met was just a cheap copy of true desire, a
faded shadow of the hunger that flared within her now. The voice that filled the room was
the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. It surrounded her, engulfed her, wrapped
itself around her so tightly she couldn`t breathe. She had spent the entire day undressing
the redhead in her mind and now she wanted nothing more than to listen to that voice
forever, to have it chiming in her ears and hers alone.
Closing her eyes, Robyn settled onto her barstool and let the music wash over her.
* * * *
A.J. slammed the dressing room door closed behind her, leaned her guitar against the
wall, then started pacing back and forth like a caged tiger longing for a good hunt. Her
body thrummed with raw energy like it always did after a show, making her feel like a live
wire. She wouldn`t have been able to sit still if she tried, and she wouldn`t have traded
that feeling for anything in the world.
It was amazing. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making every last part of her
tingle. Nothing could compare with the high she felt after a live performance. If she took
the most intense orgasm of her life and multiplied it by ten it would still pale in
comparison to what she felt after a concert.
And tonight had been magical.
Maybe it was a day`s worth of frustration, or maybe it was some vibe she picked up from
the crowd, but for whatever reason tonight had been something special. Gods. How she
wished Joshua Stringer had been in the audience! She had been at her best on that stage,
at the top of her game in a way that just couldn`t be captured on CD.
It was that connection she made with the audience. Performing on stage was like having
sex with the entire room, like having a hundred pairs of hands caressing her. She always
got turned on when she was on stage and that energy, that arousal, inevitably came through
her music. Sometimes it left her so horny she would come back to the dressing room and
frantically finger her pussy just to take the edge off.
That wouldn`t work tonight. She was way too wired. Back home she would have taken Sally
out to the parking lot and fucked her senseless. Some of the best sex the two of them ever
had had been right after a show. She would be so horny when she walked off stage it would
be a race to get into Sally`s designer jeans.
A.J. grunted with frustration. She needed to decompress. Maybe she would get herself off.
Even a little relief was better than no relief at all.
But before she could shove a hand down the front of her pants and relieve some of the
tension she felt there was a knock on the dressing room door.
Straightening out her rumpled clothes, A.J. took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"Yeah, come on in," she called out.
The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, then one of the sexiest women she had ever
seen stepped into the dressing room. It wasn`t just her pussy talking, either. This woman
was hot! She had shoulder-length brown hair and luminous eyes that seemed to just pull her
right in, making her forget about everything else around them. The black top and khakis
the woman had on teased her with hints of the incredible figure underneath.
A.J. swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. There was something familiar about
this woman, but at that moment A.J. couldn`t have managed an intelligent thought to save
her life let alone remember where she had seen this woman before.
But their paths had crossed. She was sure of that.
The two of them stared at each other for the longest time and A.J. would have sworn that
all the air had been sucked out of the room. What else explained the fact that she
couldn`t breathe?
"I hope I`m not bothering you," the woman said.
"You`re not," A.J. assured her. She met the other woman`s gaze and held it as
long as she could before her insides ached. "I was just unwinding. You know. After
the show."
"You were great tonight," the brunette told her.
A.J. felt a burn in her cheeks. "Thanks."
The brunette moved a little closer. "I really mean that. You were absolutely
amazing."
"Thanks," A.J. said again. It was about the only thing she could say. Anything
else would have required a power of speech that was beyond her at the moment. It was a
small wonder she hadn`t been reduced to grunting and pointing. But when their eyes met
again words seemed unimportant. Where the hell had she seen this woman before?
Now it was the brunette who blushed. "I`m so rude. I haven`t even introduced myself.
Robyn Katz."
"A.J. Diamond. But I guess you knew that."
Robyn laughed. "Yeah. What does A.J. stand for? Anything?"
"Aimee-Jo. But it`s a little too bumpkin for me, so I go by A.J."
"I think it`s cute," Robyn said.
The two of them shared a long look.
"How did you get backstage? Not that I`m complaining," A.J. added quickly.
"It`s just that Gianni doesn`t usually let people come back here."
"Oh. Well, I know some people in the music business," Robyn explained. "So
that helped."
Of course! That was it! The pieces finally fell into place.
"You`re the woman I saw with Joshua Stringer this morning!" A.J. exclaimed.
The brunette smiled. "I wasn`t sure you`d even remember me."
"I never forget making an ass of myself," A.J. said. "Especially when I do
it in front of an attractive woman."
Robyn took a step closer, not much of one, but the distance between them was getting
smaller. "You didn`t make an ass of yourself. I thought it took a lot of guts to take
a chance like that. And did you just call me attractive?"
A.J. blushed. "Thought that might have slipped under your radar."
"Nope."
The two of them shared another long look. A.J. found it increasingly difficult to keep
her eyes off this woman. Never mind her hands. Robyn was close enough to her now that A.J.
could have reached out to her, pulled her close, kissed those luscious red lips. It was so
very tempting. A.J. rocked on the balls of her feet.
"So, uh, you work for Serpentine Records?"
Robyn nodded. "I`m Mr. Stringer`s personal assistant. Which is about as unglamorous
as it sounds."
"I think it sounds pretty cool," A.J. said.
"Listen," the brunette said, "I`m really sorry Mr. Stringer was so short
with you this morning. You didn`t deserve that."
This time A.J. took a step toward Robyn, leaving very little distance between the now.
She could feel the heat radiating off the other woman`s body, could smell the sweetness of
her perfume mixed with the bitter smell of alcohol, and maybe it was just her imagination
but A.J. thought she smelled the faintest hint of arousal as well. It made her tremble
with need, made her bolder than she might otherwise have been.
"Is that why you came here?" A.J. asked. "To apologize for your
boss?"
"No," Robyn replied softly. "I came down here because I haven`t been able
to stop thinking about you all day."
When A.J. looked into Robyn`s eyes the longing she saw in them made her lips quiver as if
she were cold yet the dressing room seemed to be getting warmer and warmer. The itch she
had needed to scratch before was even worse now, making her crazy with need, crazy enough
to do something she normally wouldn`t have done. She swallowed hard then asked, in a voice
just barely above a whisper, "Do you wanna get out of here?"
Robyn answered with a nod.
| 
