Lyric reached for her timecard, there was a sticky note hanging on it. “Please see me after you clock out,” the note read, signed by the manager.

“You wanted to see me, Mrs. Morris?”

“Come in, Lyric, and close the door.” Lyric perched on the edge of the chair, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Is there a problem? I’ve been trying really hard not to make any mistakes…” Lyric couldn’t contain herself, she knew she was babbling.

“No, Lyric, you’ve been doing just fine. It’s just that, well, you see, the economy isn’t doing so great right now and times are tough for our company. We’ve lost several big accounts.” Mrs. Morris had been with the company for 17 years, longer than anyone else.

“I’d heard that, I’m sorry.” Lyric had been with the company only three years, but she’d been promoted several times already and felt she was doing a good job.

“Well, not your fault, Lyric. But it means that we have to cut the budget and let some people go. I’m sorry, but your position has been eliminated. Today is your last day.”

“But, Mrs. Morris…I’ll take a pay cut if that’ll help, I just have to have a job.” Lyric hated the pleading tone in her voice.

“I’m so sorry, Lyric. You were doing a wonderful job for us, we just can’t afford to have so many employees right now.” She came around the desk and hugged Lyric. “I have your final paycheck here, a letter of recommendation and a severance check. It’s all I can do.”

“I appreciate it. Thanks.” She took the envelopes from her manager. “I enjoyed working here, Mrs. Morris, and working with you especially. You’ve been a good friend.” There were tears in their eyes as they parted.

The security guard walked her to her desk – there was a box already waiting for her. It seemed so cold, having security watch her as she cleared the few personal items from her cubicle, as if she’d steal the paperclips or pencils from her desk drawer.

Lyric drove home slowly, still stunned by the sudden and shocking loss of her job. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, there had been rumors going around for the last two weeks of layoffs.

Lyric thought there were others who deserved to be laid off more than she did. She knew who was responsible, Carol had been trying to get her fired for the last two years. The supervisor was a bitter, lonely woman – a free love flower child who couldn’t fit into the corporate world she was forced to work in. She found pleasure in making hateful remarks to the women, commenting on their weight, questioning their morals, or belittling their achievements.

In the beginning, Lyric had no defenses against her – there were many days when she went home and cried over the hurtful remarks. But as she gained confidence in her abilities, Lyric stood her ground against the woman’s tirades. It infuriated Carol that she no longer had the upper hand with Lyric, and began her mission to get her fired.

“It was only a matter of time,” she sighed, pulling into the driveway of the 50’s ranch-style house. “No sense in being angry, it won’t change anything.”

Lyric loved the little house, the front flower beds filled with the rose bushes her mother had planted years ago. All was quiet when she entered, but the ghosts still greeted her at the door. Lyric had done little to update the house, she wasn’t very handy and had her hands full just keeping it in working order.

Although the house was paid off, Lyric barely made enough to pay her bills. She lived in an older neighborhood, but the area had become trendy over the last few years. The house was worth four times what it was 10 years ago when she inherited it, the California housing bubble had seen to that.

But with the increased value came higher taxes and insurance bills. There was no money for new furniture, half the appliances didn’t work, and the house was badly in need of paint. Her car, thankfully a sturdy little Honda Accord, was 12 years old and got Lyric where she needed to go, but it too was badly in need of a little TLC.

She threw her purse on the sofa and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. At least the aging refrigerator still worked, the massive appliance the dull harvest gold color typical of the 70s. Only one burner still worked on the stove, and the microwave was on its last legs, sometimes refusing to work for weeks at a time.

Lyric ran back to the living room to answer her cell phone, she didn’t have a land line in the house any more.

“Why don’t you come join us, Lyric? Tonya and I are going to Reggie’s tonight.” Her friend Matt often called and invited her to join them when they went out to a club, but Lyric always felt like the third wheel. She’d known Matt since high school, he’d lived next door to her back then.

“I don’t think so, Matt. I’ve had a pretty crappy day and I don’t feel like going out tonight, but thanks.”

“Aw, what happened?”

“I got laid off, but it’s ok, I’ll find something else soon.” Lyric tried to keep the panic from her voice, but she knew that Matt would see right through her.

“I’m sorry. You should really come out with us, honey, it’ll cheer you up. You shouldn’t sit home alone.”

“No, it’s ok. I have a book I want to finish.” Lyric was an avid reader, she couldn’t afford cable and thought basic TV was pretty boring, so books were her entertainment.

“Ok, but we might drop by later on.”

Lyric hung up the phone, hoping that her friends wouldn’t stop by. She really didn’t have the energy to pretend to be ok, she just wanted to slip into a hot tub with a really good book.

It didn’t surprise her when the doorbell rang an hour later, just as she was finishing a light dinner of pasta and a salad.

“I’m sorry to barge in, Lyric, but I had this great idea!” Matt pulled his girlfriend through the doorway, she could see the apology in Tonya’s eyes.

“What idea, Matt?” She was used to his great ideas, she’d listened to his plans for 15 years now.

“I know this guy that’s looking for a personal assistant. I think it would be the perfect job for you.”

“I don’t know. What do I know about being an assistant? I know the insurance business, that’s it.”

“How hard could it be? You make plane and hotel reservations, keep his schedule, make sure he gets places on time. I think you could handle that.”

“What’s he do, Matt? A business executive?”

Matt hesitated a moment. “No, he’s a musician.”

“Absolutely not!” Lyric stood up and went to the door, opening it. “I won’t even consider it. No way in hell would I ever work for someone in the music business – and you damn well know that.”

Matt knew he’d overstepped the boundaries when Lyric swore, she never used cuss words unless she was really upset. Her mother, born and raised in a deeply religious southern town, had insisted that no one in her house ever use a swear word, and as far as Matt knew, no one ever had.

“I’m sorry, Lyric, it was just an idea – you don’t have to get so mad at me about it.” He scooted past her, the door slammed shut.

Lyric settled into the water, all was quiet in the house except for the soft sound of bubbles popping. A hot bath seemed a luxury these days but the only way she might relax for a little while.

A year had passed since she lost her job, her unemployment benefits had run out. So far she’d been able to pay her bills, but her bank account was empty and she’d been forced to use her credit card, and that was something she didn’t want to do – she’d been taught to use cash for everything. However, the credit card was near its limit now too.

Lyric had driven to countless interviews, willing to work at any job just to be able to pay her bills. But there were thousands of others just as willing to work, and the competition for jobs was insane. For every job interview she’d gone to, there had been at least a hundred other applicants, sometimes even close to a thousand. The recession was making life miserable for nearly everyone, in one way or another.

She’d put the house up for sale, unable to pay the taxes and insurance on it for much longer. It was a buyer’s market right now though, and no one was buying, not even when she dropped the price by 25%. She wouldn’t give the house away, it was all she had in the world.

Lyric cut her budget to the bare minimum – her cell phone the only luxury she had, and that was essential at the moment during her job hunt. She ate sandwiches, macaroni and cheese, and Ramen noodles. She had nothing of value left to pawn and already sold most of her clothes.

“What am I going to do if I can’t find a job soon?” she asked herself, going over the budget in her mind for the tenth time that day, trying to find a way to cut her expenses even more. The only thing of value she had was her car, and she needed that to get to interviews – but there was always the bus.

Her cell phone beeped softly, it was Matt. “Hello?”

“Hey, how are you?” he asked. Matt was deeply concerned for Lyric, he knew just how desperate things were getting for her. He’d offered her money but she had refused.

“I’m doing ok. How about you?” Lyric tried to sound upbeat, pushing all worries from her mind.

“I’m great, thanks.” There was a long pause. “Um, Lyric, I know we talked about this job before and you shot it down…”

Lyric knew which job he was talking about. It disturbed her to even think about it, but at this point she didn’t have the luxury of turning down a potential interview.

“The assistant for the musician? Is that still open?”

“Well, he’s gone through two assistants since I mentioned it to you the first time. The first girl wasn’t willing to put in the hours he needed, and the second girl totaled a brand new car and stole a laptop, cell phone, and cash from his house.”

“That sucks for him. Are the hours that bad?”

“It can be. But its not hard labor, its like running errands for him, keeping track of his schedule and taking him to meetings or to the studio.” When Lyric didn’t say anything, he continued with the sales pitch. “He might need you to come on tour with him - you’d get to travel around the world, all expenses paid. But if he’s out of town, you might only have to watch his house and take care of the bills – pretty easy money.”

“I see.” Lyric was quiet for a minute. “And what is this guy like? Married? Kids? Likes to party?”

“He’s single, pretty quiet. A little older than you, but not much. He likes to have friends over but they don’t party the night away. He drinks a little, but no drugs, nothing stupid.”

“And the pay?”

“I don’t know any figures, but I’m willing to bet it would be around $40 an hour.”

“What did you say?” Lyric sat straight up in the tub, knocking her towel into the water.

“I knew that would get your attention,” Matt laughed. “I can’t say for sure, but I think that would be a ballpark figure. Might be more, might be less.”

“Holy cow, Matt. I can’t even get an interview for minimum wage.”

“I know. That’s why I thought I would try you again when I heard he was looking still. So, do you want me to set up an appointment?”

“What have you told him about me?” Lyric asked.

“I haven’t…”

“Don’t lie to me, Matt. I know you did, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to set up an interview without asking him first.”

“Ok, so I did tell him about you…and he wants to meet you.”

“Really? What did you tell him?”

“I said you weren’t afraid of hard work and long hours, that you’re organized and efficient. Does that sound like you?”

Lyric laughed. “Yes, a little.” She realized it described her pretty accurately, once she thought about it.

“I told him that we’d been best friends for 15 years and that I thought you needed someone to give you a chance. And that I thought he wouldn’t be sorry if he hired you.”

“Thanks, Matt. I appreciate the confidence.” Lyric was quiet for a moment, thinking about the job. “Did he ask what I looked like?”

“No, I don’t think that matters to him. He just wanted to know if you were easy to get along with, since you two would be working so closely together.”

“And what did you tell him?” Lyric was smiling, she knew the answer already.

“I told him you were a first rate bitch.” Lyric laughed, it was a running joke with them. “I told him you’re focused, detail oriented, but easy going too.”

“Which translates into stubborn, anal retentive, and dresses like a slob.”

“Oh Lyric, why do you have to make this so hard?” Matt smiled though, he knew he had hooked his catch.

“Ok, Matt, sign me up. I’ll go for it.”

“Good girl, that’s my Lyric!”

“Dang, you make me sound like a collie.” She ‘woofed’ and hung up, then fished the towel out of the water. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

******

Howie wondered what the girl would be like. Matt, one of the junior executives at his management company, had assured him that she would be perfect for the job. He hoped he was right, the last two assistants hadn’t worked out at all.

He’d arrived at the restaurant early to make sure that she arrived on time. That was one thing he truly needed in an assistant – someone to keep him on schedule, he was always late for everything.

As the maitre d escorted a young woman to his table, Howie looked down at his watch – 10 minutes early, he liked that.

“Mr. Dorough? I’m Lyric Walters, we have an appointment?”

Howie rose to greet Lyric, liking her firm handshake and direct approach. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Walters. Please, won’t you sit down?”

Howie held the chair for her, then settled back into his own. A waiter appeared and left menus, but Lyric didn’t pick hers up.

“Lunch is on me, order whatever you like.” It was one of Howie’s favorite tactics – you could tell a lot about someone by what they ordered when they thought someone else was paying.

“Thank you, Mr. Dorough. I’m not really hungry right now, if you don’t mind.”

His last two assistants hadn’t even hesitated in picking up the menu, and one had ordered one of the most expensive dishes. He’d hired her anyway, despite a gut instinct against it. This time he was going to pay a lot more attention.

“You can call me Howie…and please, do order something. I’m starving and it would be rude of me to eat in front of you.” He smiled at her and made eye contact, wanting to see her reaction.

Lyric blushed but didn’t look away. There was something hypnotic about his eyes that drew her in. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you rude,” she said, picking up the menu.

Howie studied her covertly. By the looks of her, she hadn’t had much to eat lately. Matt had warned him that Lyric was really down on her luck and close to losing everything she owned.

Lyric was petite, maybe a couple inches over 5 feet tall, although she was wearing heels which made her a little taller. She was dressed in a conservative suit, one that seemed a size too big for her and was sadly out of fashion. Her makeup was muted but impeccably done, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek chignon.

“Do you already know what you’re ordering?” she asked.

Howie realized he’d been staring, and Lyric had caught him. He blushed, fumbling with the menu to cover his embarrassment.

“I always get the same thing,” he said softly. “Have you decided on something yet?”

“Debating between the chicken Caesar salad or the pecan crusted tilapia. Any suggestions?”

“I don’t suppose you’re on a diet?” he asked. “Neither one could be considered low calorie.”

Lyric laughed, she liked his sense of humor. “I’ve been fortunate in that I don’t have to watch my weight, I pretty much eat whatever I want.”

“The salad is good, but I’d recommend the tilapia – it’s amazing.”

They made small talk until the waiter reappeared. Howie ordered for them both, ordering the exact same thing.

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

“Do what?”

“Order the same thing as me.”

“No, you ordered what I was going to order all along,” he said, trying to suppress a grin.

Lyric was completely charmed by Howie’s smile and soft voice. He wasn’t anything like she had expected.

“So, I hear a hint of an accent in your voice, Miss Walters, but I can’t quite place it. You didn’t grow up in California?”

“Please, call me Lyric. I was raised in Louisiana,” she said, exaggerating the drawl. “We moved to California when I was six but my mother was born and raised in Alabama. I have a mixture of Cajun and southern accents.”

“It’s very charming,” he said.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Lyric replied, fluttering an invisible fan and batting her eyelashes at him.

Howie laughed, he liked the fact that she was gently flirting with him – it meant she was comfortable being around him.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Lyric. Tell me why you think you’re right for this job.”

It was the dreaded question in all interviews. She never knew what to say, how much to reveal. Lyric decided on the direct approach.

“To be honest with you, Howie, I don’t have any training whatsoever that would qualify me to be a personal assistant. I have a bachelor’s degree in English and my teaching certificate has expired. My only job experience is in insurance.”

“You wanted to be a teacher?”

“Yes, probably at the junior high school level. But I never was able to find a teaching job after I graduated. The Los Angeles school district put a hiring freeze in place just before I graduated, and I didn’t want to move out of state.”

“I think teachers have many skills – organization, patience, creativity, determination…and the ability to take a lot of crap without losing their minds. Do you think you have these traits?”

“I believe so.” Lyric didn’t know where he was going with this line of questioning.

“And you can communicate effectively?” Lyric nodded. “Are you computer literate?”

“Yes, sir, I’m well versed in all the current computer programs.”

“Are you afraid to fly? Afraid to try new food or experience new places?” Howie was throwing the questions at her quickly. “Hate to be told what to do?”

“No, to all of those. But, I don’t see…”

“You have all the qualifications I’m looking for, Lyric.” The food was delivered before she could question him further. “I don’t need someone trained for this job, just someone who is willing to learn and willing to do what needs to be done, that’s all.”

“And you think I can do that?” Lyric fiddled with the silverware, unable to meet his eyes.

“I think so,” he said with a smile. “Try the fish before it gets cold.”

Lyric carefully sampled a small piece. “Oh, Howie, you are so right! This is delicious.”

Howie enjoyed watching her eat, he could tell that she was relishing every bite. He’d already made up his mind – he was going to hire her, if she’d agree to work for him.

“Do you know anything about the music industry?” he asked her.

Lyric’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth, she put it back down on the plate. “Not much. My father was a local musician though, maybe you’ve heard of James Walters?”

“Big Jimmy? Played jazz piano?” Lyric nodded. “I saw him play once, right after I moved to LA. Our manager was trying to sign him to a record deal but he wouldn’t even talk to Lou. How could you have a father so big into the music scene here and not know much about the music industry?”

“James abandoned my mother and I when I was just a child.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Howie said when he saw a look of pain and sorrow cross her face. He reached across the table and touched her hand gently. Lyric felt a flash of electricity run through her at his touch.

“It’s ok. I’m surprised that Matt didn’t tell you.” Lyric felt a little nauseated, she didn’t resume eating. Talking about her father always made her stomach upset.

“He didn’t tell me much about you, said that I needed to see for myself. He said you’re one special lady.”

“That was kind of him to say that,” Lyric said, smiling. “He thinks pretty highly of you too.”

“He should,” Howie joked. “I help pay his salary.”

Lyric just toyed with her food, it had lost its appeal. “So, is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“Just one more thing… When can you start?”

“Really? You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m totally serious. Are you saying yes?” Howie laughed at the shocked expression on her face, she nodded her acceptance. “Do you have something to write on?” he asked.

“Of course.” Flustered, she dug in her purse until she came up with a tiny notepad and a pen.

“May I see it?” Their fingers touched, again Lyric felt a tiny shock of electricity. He wrote something down on the pad and handed it back to her. “We’ll start out hourly for the first six months at this rate. You’ll receive overtime for anything over 40 hours a week, that’s state law. Is that pay acceptable?”

Lyric was in shock over the amount, it was triple what she had been making at the insurance agency. “Yes, thank you. It’s more than acceptable.”

“You may think that pay generous, Lyric, but believe me, you’ll earn it. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park job. I work all hours of the day and night and I’ll expect you to be available whenever I need you.”

“That won’t be a problem, I don’t have a social life.”

“I may need you to travel with me. I’ll pay all your expenses, of course.” Howie placed his credit card in the folder with the bill for lunch and handed it to the waiter. He took back the notepad and wrote on it again. “Here is my address and my cell phone number. Can you start tomorrow?”

“Certainly.”

“Great. We’ll need to run some errands tomorrow. Do you have your driver’s license and a reliable car?”

“It’s an older 2-door Honda,” she admitted.

“Ah, you’ll need something bigger than that, sometimes I fly with a lot of luggage. We’ll see about getting you a SUV tomorrow too. Is 8 am too early?”

“No, I’ll be there. What should I wear?”

“Tomorrow jeans will be fine. I try to stay pretty casual.”

“Thank you, Howie, for the lunch…and for the job. I’ll do my best, I promise.”

“You’re very welcome, Lyric.” They stood and shook hands again. “I enjoyed lunch very much, and I think its going to be great working together.”

“Me too.”

******

As Lyric waited for the valet to bring her car, she wondered why she had given in so easily. Going into the interview, she’d told herself that hell would freeze over before she had anything to do with a musician.

“So, how did it go?” Matt asked, calling her as she drove home.

“I think it went very well,” she said, not volunteering any information, knowing it would drive Matt insane.

“Come on, Lyric, spill it. You know you want to tell me everything that happened.”

“Ok, he offered me the job…”

“And?” Matt was holding his breath.

“I accepted.”

Matt cheered into the phone. “I knew the two of you would get along well. What did you think of him?”

“Very polite,” she said. “Professional, well dressed.”

“Lyric…”

She sighed. “Ok, Matt, I thought he was very handsome and charming…and he has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“A ha! I knew the eyes would get you if the smile didn’t.”

“Matt, I’m just working for the man, not applying to be his mistress, for god’s sake.” Lyric checked her mirrors before moving over to exit the freeway. “It doesn’t matter what he looks like, or if he likes the way I look. I’m working for the man, that’s all.”

“So, when do you start?”

“Tomorrow morning, 8 am. He’s taking me to get a new car.”

“Wow, Lyric, he doesn’t fool around, does he?” Matt laughed. “I bet you’ll be in his bed by nightfall.”

“Go to hell, Matt. I’m not going to sleep with him!” Lyric hung up on her friend. Matt, of all people, knew she wouldn’t jump into bed with just anyone, especially not her boss. He was just teasing, but still it upset her to hear him say that because she was very attracted to the man – and she prayed that he wasn’t expecting sex as part of her job duties.

Lyric didn’t need to worry about that, Howie was all business the next morning.

“Want a donut?” he asked, shoving the box across the kitchen counter at her.

“Yum, thanks.” She picked out a chocolate glazed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the sweet treat, they were much too expensive for her to afford on her miniscule budget. She hadn’t even eaten that morning, the kitchen was pretty much empty.

“This is the first and last time for this,” he teased. “From now on, you go get the donuts.”

“Yes, boss.” Lyric liked his easy smile. After breakfast, they climbed into his car to start the morning errands. First, a stop at the cell phone store for a Blackberry and then they hit the electronics store for a laptop.

“So, what kind of SUV would you like? Land Rover? BMW? Cadillac?”

“It’s your car, Howie, you get whatever you want. I’ll drive whatever you choose.” Lyric felt so uncomfortable spending Howie’s money, especially since it was something for her to drive. Getting the cell phone and computer had been bad enough, this was a nightmare for her.

“No, Lyric, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in this car, either running errands for me or taking me places. It has to be something you’re comfortable driving.”

“But…”

Howie pulled off the road and into a strip mall parking lot and parked the car. “Now listen to me, Lyric. You’re gonna have to get used to spending money, my money, coz that’s what I need you to do.” Lyric looked out the window, she couldn’t meet Howie’s eyes. “I know you’ve lived a life where you didn’t have much – I didn’t have all that much growing up either.”

“Really?”

“My father was a cop, there were five kids – we had enough but certainly didn’t live a life of luxury.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought…” Lyric blushed a bright red.

“It’s ok, it was a natural assumption – but wrong.” He reached out and touched her arm. Startled, Lyric turned to him, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m getting you the tools that you need to be my assistant – these are not gifts. If you worked in an office, wouldn’t you need a phone, a computer and a desk?”

Lyric nodded. “I have an image to uphold – I’m not going to be seen driving around in an old junker car. Plus I need something that will keep us both safe and be able to carry all our gear. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Lyric felt thoroughly chastised.

“You don’t need to ‘sir’ me, Lyric.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. “We don’t know each other very well right now, but soon you’re gonna know more than you want to about me.” Howie laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just feeling really overwhelmed right now.”

“I understand. Being a celebrity is tough work, but someone has to do it.” Lyric couldn’t help but laugh at his boyish grin. “Come on, let’s go get you a car to drive.”

Several hours later, Lyric drove the brand new dark gray Cadillac SRX off the lot and back to Howie’s house. It was just the right size for her, and the right size for what they needed.

Howie laughed at the grin on her face as she pulled into the driveway. Although this was just their first day together, he could already tell that they were going to get along very well.

Lyric fell into bed totally exhausted. She’d never worked harder in her life – the past six weeks had been total chaos, but she’d loved every minute of it.

Her cell phone beeped, she prayed it wasn’t Howie. It wasn’t, it was her best friend Matt.

“Hey baby, how are ya?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“More tired than I’ve ever been in my whole life,” she replied. “But everything is going so well, Matt. Thank you for setting this up for me, I really owe you.”

“So you’re liking working for the man, huh?” Matt teased. “Even though he’s just a lowly musician?”

“Shut up, Matt. Yes, I like working for Howie. He’s a slave driver, but he pays me well.” Lyric yawned, she couldn’t help it.

“I just got off the phone with him, in fact.”

“And…?” Lyric prompted.

“You passed with flying colors – he’s really pleased with the job you’ve been doing.” Matt laughed. “He said to tell you that hell is over.”

“I don’t get it.”

Matt sighed, sometimes his friend was a little dense. “He’s been testing you, seeing if you’d break. Didn’t you work like 80 hours this week?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m in bed right now, Matt. I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Lyric. Howie isn’t going to push you this hard anymore – he just wanted to see if you could handle the pressure. He needs someone reliable and so he threw everything he had at you to see if you’d fold.”

“And I didn’t, did I?” she said, the implications finally sinking in. “I really can handle this job.”

“That’s my girl! Now get some sleep. Howie said he’ll see you in two weeks when he gets back from Florida – and don’t forget to keep an eye on his house.”

Lyric hung up the phone. As she drifted off, she thought about the past weeks. Now she understood why Howie had been so damn demanding about everything – it had all been a test. She was glad she’d been able to satisfy him, she really liked working for him. If only she didn’t dream about those brown eyes every single night.

******

“Don’t forget we have a meeting with management in the morning,” Howie called as Lyric left for the night.

The next morning, Lyric fussed over her wardrobe. Normally, she dressed very casually for work – jeans most of the time and little makeup. This was her first time going to work dressed up and she worried she’d pick the wrong thing. She finally settled on an outfit, not sure of her choice but thinking it would surely do.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Howie asked when she arrived at his house.

“Why? Is something wrong with it?” She looked in the mirror in the foyer, she didn’t see anything out of place.

“No, nothing wrong.” He started to say something else and then decided against it. “Let’s go.”

Lyric worried all the way downtown, she didn’t want to embarrass herself or her boss by not dressing properly for an important meeting.

“This will be your first time meeting the boys,” he said as they rode up the elevator.

“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.

“They’ll love you, don’t worry,” he grinned. He hoped they would keep the teasing to a minimum, since this was their first meeting.

“Look at that, Howie’s not late!” Nick called out as they entered a large conference room.

“A first!” Brian said, coming over to introduce himself. Nick came over as well, and ended up hugging her.

“Who’s this pretty lady?” Alex said, walking in a few minutes late.

“Alex, I’d like you to meet Lyric, my new assistant. Please, be nice to her – I want her to stick around.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lyric said, holding out her hand. Alex ignored it, instead circling her like a vulture.

“Oh no, this just won’t do,” he said, lisping. Lyric shot a bewildered look at Howie, who just grinned back at her and shrugged. “You’re much too beautiful to look so damn frumpy!”

Alex pulled off her suit jacket. “Ok, that’s a start. Let’s undo a few buttons –there, that’s sexier.” Lyric just stood there with her mouth open. “And the hair – gotta come down, honey.” He pulled the pins to release the chignon she’d so painstakingly put up. Her brunette hair fell halfway down her back in a riot of wavy curls.

“Looking better, Alex.” Nick said, laughing.

“Hm, can’t do anything about the skirt.” He kept circling her.

Lyric finally found her voice. “What’s wrong with my skirt?” she asked.

“Not short enough,” Nick volunteered. “Or tight enough.”

“You have beautiful legs,” Alex said, still in his higher voice. “Short skirts make them look longer, darling. At least you have on nice heels.”

Lyric had splurged on some sexy high heeled sandals, the only touch of femininity she had added to the outfit, thinking Howie wanted her to look professional.

“But…”

“One more thing,” Alex said, dashing out of the room only to return a second later. He applied a bright dash of color to her mouth, using the receptionist’s lipstick. “Voila! A new woman!”

Howie had to agree, she did look better than she did earlier. He liked the new look, he’d gotten used to seeing her in little makeup and plain clothes.

Lyric looked to her boss, wanting to see his reaction. She could see the approval in his eyes.

“Thanks,” was all she could get out.

“Mmm, my pleasure, sexy lady,” Alex whispered in a deep, throaty voice in her ear as he hugged her.

Howie felt a little twinge of jealousy at seeing Alex hug his assistant a little too long for his liking. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of their management team.

Lyric’s eyes widened when she saw how the women at the meeting were dressed. Not one of them was wearing a business suit. One lady in particular drew her attention – she had to be at least 6 feet tall in her 5” heels. She wore a silk dress which clung to every curve, low cut to reveal cleavage Lyric could only dream of owning. The dress was so short Lyric wondered how she was going to sit down in it.

Matt came in last, took Lyric’s arm and guided her to some chairs away from the table. “We’ll sit back here out of the way,” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hissed at him. Matt looked bewildered. “I asked you what to wear!”

Before he could answer, the meeting started and he was forced to silence. Lyric glared at him, a look that Matt knew promised a tongue lashing later on.

In the car driving home, Lyric was quiet. Howie didn’t know what to say to her, he knew she’d been embarrassed. He felt like he’d let her down.

He answered his cell phone when it rang a moment later. “It’s for you,” he said, handing her the phone. They were sitting in LA traffic, an accident up ahead had them moving at a crawl.

“Hey it’s Alex. I just wanted to say I was sorry for being such an asshole at the meeting.”

“You weren’t,” Lyric said, feeling uncomfortable again. She’d have to get used to the swearing as well as the hugging.

“Yes I was, quit being so nice. I embarrassed you and I apologize.”

Lyric could hear that he was being sincere. “You were right, Alex. I was dressed like a frumpy old lady, but where I used to work that’s what we all wore.”

“Don’t be afraid to show off what God gave you, Lyric. You’re a beautiful woman.”

“Thanks. And I’ll try to remember that.” She hung up the phone and handed it back to Howie.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was all my fault – you asked me what to wear and I just figured that you knew.”

“I felt like an ugly duckling in a pond full of swans,” she admitted, wiping away a stray tear.

Howie reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “You are a natural beauty, Lyric. Those women – they paid huge amounts of money to look like that. Breast implants, liposuction, botox – not one of them is as gorgeous as you are.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Lyric whispered, fumbling in her purse for a tissue.

“Tell you what…let’s go shopping one afternoon this week and I’ll help you find some sexy new clothes. Then you’ll knock everyone out at the next meeting, ok?”

Lyric agreed. “Just so you don’t make me look trashy.”

“I promise you’ll look fabulous.” Lyric giggled at his attempt to sound gay.

“How do you feel about taking a little trip?” Howie asked Lyric one morning.

“Where to?” she asked as she updated a file on his computer.

“New Orleans, I’m looking into a business prospect there.”

“I left Louisiana when I was six, haven’t been back there since,” she said with a sigh. “It would be nice to see it again.”

“Good, go ahead and book us both first class for the 15th of next month, to return late on the 18th,” he said, looking at an email for confirmation of the date. “Two rooms at the Ritz-Carlton, for 3 nights.”

Lyric opened the hotel’s website. “Deluxe room or a suite?” she asked.

“They don’t have two bedroom suites. Get two deluxe rooms on the club level, if they have any available.”

Lyric booked the rooms and then booked their flight. “Ok, all done, boss.”

“Thanks. I gave us an extra day there for some sightseeing, I thought you might want to look around.”

“That would be nice. I don’t remember much, we lived in a poor parish outside the city, I only remember going into the French Quarter once. My mom took me down to watch the Mardi Gras parade when I was six, right before we left.”

“There’s nothing like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, “ Howie sighed, obviously remembering some wild times.

“My mother said it’s a sinful place,” Lyric laughed.

“Oh yeah,” Howie agreed with a grin. “Not a place to take a child, that’s for sure.”

******
Lyric was nervous as they boarded the plane. She tried to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, but Howie could see through the charade.

“Never been on a plane before?” he asked.

“No. I’m a little anxious,” she admitted.

“It’s ok,” he assured her. “Everyone is nervous their first time. You can hold my hand if it makes you feel any better.” He was trying to be serious but his grin gave him away.

“No, I’ll be ok,” she assured him, wanting to be brave. But as soon as the wheels left the ground and Lyric had that momentary weightless feeling in her stomach, she grabbed his hand and held on for dear life.

“Once we’re done climbing, it will be easier,” he said. He had to try hard not to laugh at the look of panic on her face. “You better get used to flying because we’re going to be doing a lot of it.”

“I’ll be fine after this time…I just didn’t know what to expect.”

Howie was thankful the non-stop flight was uneventful and with very little turbulence, he wasn’t sure Lyric could’ve handled that very well. As they were getting ready to land, he took her hand to reassure her. Lyric felt that jolt of electricity that ran between them any time they touched.

Howie rented a car and drove them to the Ritz-Carlton, located on the edge of the famous French Quarter. Lyric gaped at the luxurious lobby, modeled after the elegant French mansions of the previous century.

“Wow, look at the view!” Lyric exclaimed, checking out the window in her room as Howie tipped the bellboy.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He came to stand next to her. “Even after the hurricane, there is no place like this city.”

“The parish where I lived was wiped out, a lot of the houses are gone,” Lyric said, her voice sad. “I don’t know what happened to the Thibodeaux family, the people that took my mother and I in after I was born. I tried to find them, but didn’t have any luck.”

“There’s not much telling where they went. I remember reading that families were bused into Texas and many ended up staying there - you might check around in the Houston and Dallas areas if you’re still interested.”

Lyric thanked him for the information. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” It was just after noon, they had taken a morning flight out of LA.

“My meeting isn’t until tomorrow morning, so I thought we’d have dinner tonight in the French Quarter. I know a nice little place to eat where the food is amazing.” He turned and walked to the door. “Then maybe catch a little jazz at a club?”

“Sounds great to me.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I booked you a manicure and pedicure in the spa for this afternoon at 1:45 and then we both have a massage at 3:30.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Howie. But it sounds wonderful, I’ve never had any of those before.”

Howie grinned. “You’ll enjoy them, trust me. I thought you deserved a little treat, you’ve been working hard.” He paused as he opened the door. “Down the hall is the club lounge, they have food and drinks available all through the day or you can order room service for lunch. Just put everything on your room tab.”

Lyric felt like a queen in her luxurious room, with the floor to ceiling windows and a king sized bed. She gasped when she entered the bathroom – it was all marble, with an oversized tub and separate shower.

She always booked Howie into 5-star hotels, she’d assumed they were luxurious but didn’t have any idea just how lush they could be. Lyric flipped through the room service menu and nearly fainted at the cost of the food. She knew Howie was paying for it all, but she couldn’t bring herself to order a $25 hamburger and French fries, so she wandered down to the club lounge and found some snacks to tide her over until dinner.

Lyric sighed, she felt completely relaxed for the first time in a very long time. The manicurist had clucked over the sorry state of her nails and insisted that she get a full set of fake nails, and then gave her a French manicure. She’d been worried about the massage but had enjoyed it immensely. Howie had looked pretty relaxed after his massage as well.

She glanced at the clock, it was time to get ready for dinner. She’d spent an hour on her hair and makeup, taking special care to look her best. Lyric took the dress from the closet and eased it over her head. It had been a special purchase right before they left, a splurge she couldn’t resist.

The silk dress slid over her hips and settled snugly into place. The color matched her eyes, hand-painted watered silk that reminded her of the many blues found in the ocean. The girl in the boutique had helped her find a bra that would make the most of her generous assets, and the dress certainly didn’t conceal them at all.

Just as she slipped on her high heeled sandals, there was a knock at the door. She laughed softly, Howie was actually on time for a change. When she opened the door, Howie’s eyes widened.

“Wow! You look…amazing,” he said, his eyes taking in every detail.

Lyric blushed. “Thanks.” She picked up her purse, checking to make sure she had her room key, and they left the room. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Howie was dressed in Armani, all in black with a beautiful silk tie. She was used to seeing him in jeans, this was a nice change.

“It’s a bit of a walk to the restaurant, do you want to catch a cab?” he asked, eyeing the height of her heels. Lyric agreed, and gratefully climbed into the cab hailed by the doorman.

“Maybe we can walk back,” she said, not wanting to miss out on the party atmosphere of one of the most famous sections of the city.

The Bombay Club was elegant with dark woods, leather armchairs and fine portraits hanging on the walls. A live jazz band played, reminding Lyric of her parents, who had often listened to jazz recordings at home.

“How about a drink?” he asked as they perused the menu.

“No thanks, I don’t drink,” Lyric replied.

“Aw, you can’t come to New Orleans and not have a drink. How about just a little one? I don’t want to drink alone,” he added with a grin.

“Ok, but not anything very strong.”

“This club has wonderful martinis, I’ll order one for you.” When the waitress came back, she brought Howie an old fashioned glass with a deep amber liquid and a martini glass filled with a dark red concoction.

“What’s this?” Lyric asked, taking a sip. “It’s very fruity.”

“That’s a metropolitan, made with strawberries. But I’d go slow with it, if I were you,” he advised, watching her take a large swallow of it.

Lyric nodded, pushing the drink away for a moment. “What are you having?”

“This is a sazerac, the official cocktail of New Orleans. It’s made with rye whiskey and it’s the best drink there ever was,” he said with a smile. “You have to sip it really slowly so you can taste all the different flavors in it.” He took a sip and closed his eyes, Lyric could see the pleasure in his face as he swallowed.

“Must be pretty good.”

“New Orleans is the only place I ever order one, no one else knows how to make them right.”

Lyric enjoyed an exquisite dish made with wonderfully fresh seafood and Cajun spices, it reminded her of growing up just outside the city. The Thibodeaux family was dirt poor, the house barely big enough for three people let alone nine, but they always put fresh, home cooked food on the table.

“How do you feel?” Howie asked as they finished their meal. He had ordered a second drink but didn’t for Lyric, he could see she was already feeling the effect of the alcohol.

“I’m not drunk,” Lyric insisted, slurring her words a little bit. “I just feel really good right now.”

“Trust me, honey, you’re drunk.” Howie paid the bill, then took her hand and led her from the club. “Maybe some fresh air will help.”

They walked down Bourbon Street hand in hand, the street was filled with people – most in various state of inebriation. Lyric almost fell when a man bumped into her, Howie pulled her close and put an arm around her waist to steady her.

Lyric giggled as they passed one place of business. “What’s so funny?” Howie asked.

“There’s a lot of strip clubs here,” she whispered loudly. “No wonder Momma didn’t want any of us to come down here.”

“Yes there are,” he agreed, glad that he had kept Lyric from seeing the seedier parts of the area. He knew that the strip clubs were just a small part of the sex scene of the city. He knew she’d be shocked at what went on in some businesses – it had shocked him too the first time he’d been to the city.

“It’s starting to rain,” Lyric said as a drop landed on her nose, making her giggle again.

“Maybe it’ll hold off until we get to the hotel,” he said, looking around for a place to duck into in case the rain began to fall in earnest.

“It’s just sprinkling,” Lyric said. “Come on, keep walking.” She pulled him along, dodging people as they headed west towards their hotel.

Howie could tell by the smile on her face that Lyric was enjoying watching the people in the street. Every walk of life was represented, and many different countries as well. Just two blocks from their destination, the skies opened up with a drenching downfall.

“Oh damn,” Howie said, there was nowhere for them to hide out until the rain quit.

“It’s just a little water,” Lyric said, pulling out of his grasp and turning her face to the sky. Water cascaded down her body, plastering the silk dress to her skin. Howie couldn’t help but stare, she had curves just where they needed to be and plenty of them.

Lyric started singing ‘Drowning’ at the top of her lungs, Howie hushed her. “Crazy drunk girl,” he muttered. Lyric slipped off her shoes and they ran to the hotel, laughing the entire way.

The doorman stopped them before they entered the lobby. “Stay right here, I’ll be back,” he admonished and then disappeared inside.

“They don’t want us dripping all over their nice floors,” Lyric giggled.

“I don’t blame them, we’re soaked.” The wet silk hugged every curve and Howie felt a little stir of desire but pushed it immediately out of his head – he didn’t need that complication in his life.

Lyric eyed Howie in his wet clothes too and liked what she saw. The shirt plastered to his chest showed that he spent time in the gym. She also saw that his hair was naturally curly. Her hair hung in a wet mass down her back, she twisted as much water out as she could.

The doorman returned with an armload of towels, they dried off the best they could before he allowed them to enter the lobby. As they passed the front desk, one of the employees called out to them.

“Mr. Dorough, if you’d like to have your clothes dry cleaned, I’ll send someone up in about 30 minutes to pick them up. I can have them ready for you by morning.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” He took Lyric’s hand and led her to the elevators, he could feel her shivering. “I’m sorry, you must be cold.” He wrapped a dry towel around her shoulders.

“No more than you are,” she replied, teeth chattering. It was a warm night but chilly in the hotel.

“Hurry and get in a warm shower,” he advised her. “I don’t need you getting sick on me.”

“Now who’s acting like a mother hen?” Lyric said with a smile. Howie grinned apologetically and ducked into his own room.

It was difficult to get out of the wet silk dress but Lyric finally managed to fight her way out of it. She heard the water start up in the bathroom next door, their rooms were back to back. Before long, she too was in the shower and finally getting warm again.

When her thoughts strayed to Howie standing naked in the shower just feet away, she shuddered but pushed the thought from her head. “No musicians,” she said aloud. “They lie, they cheat, they break your heart.”

After her shower, Lyric wrapped her hair in a towel and slipped on her silk nightgown, another splurge prior to the trip. Although it had been a long day, she couldn’t settle down. The alcohol was still in her system and she felt restless and still a little giddy.

There was a soft knock on the door. Lyric checked the peephole as Howie had instructed her. She opened the door when she realized it was her boss standing there.

“Brought you some goodies,” he said, slipping inside. “Something warm to drink.”

He set the tray on the small table, Lyric could see two cups and a plate of cookies.

“Yum,” she said, coming out from behind the door. She had no qualms about him seeing her in her pajamas, she often spent the night at his house when driving home late at night was impractical.

“Hot chocolate and cookies – a little late night snack,” he said with a grin, which disappeared when he turned and got his first glimpse of Lyric. He hadn’t seen her when he entered.

“I could use a snack, I’m starving,” she said. As she passed him, Howie had to swallow a groan. He could smell the clean scent of her, the fragrance of her shampoo. This time there was more than a stir to his manhood.

“You might want to put on a robe,” he suggested softly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Her nightgown was a soft lilac color, a shimmering silk with a lace bodice that left little to the imagination. The side was slit to the hip, revealing Lyric’s leg, and almost more, as she moved.

“No, its beautiful but…” Howie was used to seeing her in pajamas around his house – but she always wore shorts and a t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed, rushing into the bathroom and returning with a hotel robe wrapped around her. Howie heaved a sigh of relief, the sight of her in that nightgown was more than he could take. He had convinced himself on more than one occasion that he wasn’t attracted to his assistant.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said as they finished off the hot chocolate and cookies. “And for everything else today.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said.

Lyric pulled the towel off her head, her hair cascaded in a tangled mess down her back. She picked up her comb and began working it through the tangles.

“Need some help?” Howie asked. “I was the baby of the family with three older sisters – they made me play hair salon with them. I used to comb out their hair all the time,” he laughed.

Lyric handed him the comb, he led her to the bed and sat down behind her, cross legged on the king sized bed.

“I’ve never had anyone comb my hair for me before,” she said with a sigh as his fingers worked the tangles from her hair, enjoying it far more than she should have.

Howie was enjoying it far more than he should too, liking the silken feel of her long hair. The scent of her was driving him mad, he wrote it off to the alcohol in his system.

“We have to be up early tomorrow,” he said, suddenly standing up and handing her the comb. “I’ll see you at 7:30 for breakfast.”

Lyric wondered at his abrupt departure, she hoped she hadn’t said anything to upset him. She locked the door, turned off the lights and climbed into the huge bed. She was sure she’d dream about him again tonight, she did nearly every night.

Howie groaned as he quietly closed the door to his room. He wished he could take a cold shower without Lyric hearing. He knew it was going to be a long, sleepless night.

************

The next morning Lyric met Howie for breakfast and they drove together to the business meeting. They met in the man’s downtown office and then drove out to an empty lot on the east side of town.

“Dat over dere is where medical center be built,” Monroe said, pointing across the street where a long line of empty, half destroyed buildings still stood. Howie could barely understand him, his accent was so thick. “Katrina wiped out dis area, but developers, they be lookin’ for long time. City council fixin’ to approve da plans for hospital, so dis be best time to invest.”

“Are the other lots on this street for sale?” Howie asked, seeing other signs in lots nearby.

“Most in process of bein’ sold,” Monroe assured him. “Dis area fixin’ to explode, good to get in now before all best lots sold.”

Before Howie could answer, Monroe’s cell phone rang. He excused himself and answered, then walked a few steps away for privacy. He spoke in a quick jumble of slang, using words of English, French, and Creole.

“I can barely understand him,” he whispered to Lyric. “I don’t usually have trouble…”

“Shh,” she hushed him. “He’s talking about you.” Lyric opened up the internet on her Blackberry. Howie watched as she pulled up recent articles about the medical center development.

Lyric looked over her shoulder to make sure Monroe wasn’t close by. “This article dated two days ago says the city council has pretty much decided against this site for the medical center on the advice of the Army Corps of Engineers, who says the ground is too unstable and is too vulnerable to another large hurricane. They are close to agreeing on another site, about 10 miles from here.”

“So the bastard is lying to me?” Howie asked.

“Yes,” Lyric said, slipping her Blackberry back into her purse. “And he’s bragging about it to his friend on the phone.” She didn’t want to tell her boss exactly what Monroe was saying, she didn’t want to embarrass him any further.

“Let’s just try to get out of here without making a scene, ok?” He glanced over at the real estate broker, who was just hanging up his phone.

“Sorry bout dat,” he said. “Mr. Jones, he anxious to meet wit you, to discuss our business plan.”

Before Howie could reply, Lyric grabbed her stomach and groaned, doubling over as if in great pain.

“Ms. Walters, you be ok?” Monroe asked, obviously concerned.

Howie took her arm, supporting her. “She hasn’t been feeling well since dinner last night. I’m afraid the food is a little too rich for her.”

“So sorry,” Monroe said. “Do you need a doctor?”

“No,” she said, agony in her voice. “I’d just like to go back to the hotel, if that’s ok? I don’t want to disrupt your business deal…”

“Oh, no problem,” Monroe said as Howie helped her back to the car. “I call you later, Mr. Dorough? Maybe we get together tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ll talk to you later,” he said, climbing into the driver’s side and shutting the door. A moment later they pulled away, leaving the bewildered agent at the side of the road.

“That was some great acting,” Howie laughed.

“I thought so too,” Lyric said, giggling. “And quick thinking on your part too.”

“How did you know what he was saying on the phone? I couldn’t understand a word.”

“You forget I grew up in the 9th Ward, everyone speaks yat.” She looked out the window at the city she barely knew. “After we moved to California, Mama was constantly correcting my speech, she didn’t want anyone to know where we had lived.”

“There’s no shame in growing up poor in New Orleans,” Howie said softly as they drove back to the hotel.

“No, of course not. But people looked down on you if you couldn’t speak proper English. The kids bullied me, called me names. I quickly learned to copy their speech patterns so I could fit in.”

“Thank you for warning me, about the scam. Scott Jones came highly recommended by someone I know in Florida.”

“Probably Monroe isn’t a regular scammer, otherwise he wouldn’t be bragging about it, that’s just too cocky. People have had it tough here since the hurricane, they resort to things that they normally wouldn’t do.”

“You’re right. But I am going to call Scott and let him know what Monroe tried to pull on me.” Howie pulled into the hotel. “Let’s go have some lunch and then we can spend the afternoon sightseeing if you want.”

Ninety minutes later, they were back in the car driving east towards the 9th Ward.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Howie asked. He could see the tension in Lyric’s face.

“Yes, I need to see it,” she said. Nothing could prepare Lyric for the devastation still apparent in the neighborhoods, even though it had been five years since the hurricane.

“Not many people have returned,” she said as they drove along the streets. Some lots were bare, some lots had homes that hadn’t been touched since the storm. A few new homes had been built and people sat on the front steps and watched them drive by.

“Left on this street,” Lyric guided him to her old home. “It’s still here,” she said with a sigh. But the home was devastated, only half on its foundation, the building in ruin.

Howie pulled the car over and parked. Lyric climbed out and he followed her as she approached the house.

“So many memories,” she whispered.

“How many people lived here?” Howie asked.

“Nine, including my mother and I. Mama and Papa Thibodeaux had five children, all under the age of 10, when we lived here with them.”

“The house can’t be any more than a thousand square feet. How did ya’ll fit?”

Lyric laughed. “They slept wherever there was room. Mama and I were lucky, we shared a tiny bed in the back bedroom, three kids slept in the other bed in there. The two youngest slept with their parents in their room.”

“Sad to see that so little has been done here to rebuild,” Howie said, shaking his head.

“This area has always been neglected by the rest of the city,” Lyric said. The house on one side of her old home was completely gone, the house to the other side looked like it was being rebuilt.

A woman came out of the house next door, stood on the front porch with her hands on her hips. Lyric squinted in the bright afternoon sun.

“Mama Baxter, is that you?” she called out.

“Who dat?” the woman called out, coming down the steps.

“Lyric Walters, do you remember me? I used to live here with my mama, many years ago.”

“Course, child. You dat skinny white girl, yore mama brought you when you jus’ tiny baby.” She met Lyric at the bottom of the stairs. “Lookie you, all dressed purty. You done good fer yerself, child. And good lookin’ man wit you too.”

“That’s my boss, I’m his personal assistant,” Lyric said, smiling.

“How’s yore mama, child? She a kind lady wit a big heart.”

Lyric swallowed hard. “She passed away, Mama Baxter.”

“Oh, sorry to hear dat. She done lot to help da Thibodeaux’s, sent money for years after ya’ll left.”

“I didn’t know that. But that sounds like Mama, she loved those kids like they were her own.” Glancing at the house next door, she mustered the courage to ask the next question. “Do you know what happened to the Thibodeaux family? I’ve been trying to find them ever since Katrina.”

The elderly woman shook her head. “They don’ make it, honey. They gone, all gone.” Howie flinched at the look of sadness on her face. He moved next to Lyric to support her if needed.

“They moved?”

“No, child. They died in the flooding, all of dem. Dat Mama T, she be stubborn as an ole army mule! Dem water start to come in, she won’ go, no sir, she won’ go. Children come get her and Papa, they get caught in da water.” Mama Baxter wiped the sweat from her brow with a dirty tissue she pulled from her blouse. “I smart, I leave soon as dey say storm coming. I go north, stay safe. Come back home, find so many dead. I cried for days, child, not ‘nuff tears for dem all.”

Howie took Lyric’s hand and held tight, he could feel her trembling. “Thank you for telling me.” She started to turn away and then stopped, fumbling in her purse. She pulled out all the cash she had with her and handed it to her old neighbor.

“I can’ take yore money, child.” She tried to hand it back.

“Please, Mama Baxter. I want to help, I just wish it could be more but that’s all I have with me.”

The elderly woman hugged her, wrapping her skinny arms around Lyric’s shoulders. “Jus’ seeing you, child, is worth all da money in da world.” She took the cash and put it back in Lyric’s hand. “I have all I need, I get by.”

Lyric seriously doubted the woman had what she needed, judging by the look of the house and the state of her clothing. “Please, Mama Baxter…”

“No, child. My family, dey take care of me plenty fine. I gotta go see ‘bout my beans. Good to see you, take care now…” The woman turned and slowly walked back into her house, climbing the stairs to her porch with difficulty.

“Howie…”

“It’s ok, Lyric. Are you ready to go?” He gently steered her towards the car. She took one last look at the house and then climbed into the front seat.

Howie wisely decided that Lyric had had enough sightseeing for the day and headed back towards the hotel. Lyric could only stare out the window, the sight of so much devastation brought tears to her eyes.

Howie pulled into a park and stopped the car. “Want to go for a walk?” he asked softly, Lyric nodded. He came around and helped her out of the car. Taking her hand, he led her toward the quiet green space, the towering trees finally regaining their lushness after the storm.

“Mama Baxter is a proud woman, Lyric, that’s why she wouldn’t take your money. It was nothing personal.”

“I know, but I wanted to help her…I couldn’t help the Thibodeaux’s.”

“We’ll find a way to help her that won’t embarrass her, ok?” He gave her a hug when she nodded. They were walking along a shaded path, where it was much cooler than out in the late day sun.

“I never told you how I came to live here,” Lyric said softly. “Do you want to know?”

“Only if you want to tell me,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

“Mama lived in a tiny rural town in Alabama, on a farm that had been in her family for generations. One day a tent appeared in the downtown square – a traveling preacher man and his small entourage. It was a big deal because nothing ever happened in that town.” Lyric sat down on a bench, Howie sat down next to her, still holding her hand. “Mama took one look at the guy playing the organ and was smitten, he was ruggedly handsome with a killer smile, she always said.”

“Gotta watch out for those musicians,” Howie said with a laugh, which died when he saw the look on Lyric’s face.

“James saw her too, Mama was the prettiest of the three daughters. After the prayer meeting was over, he got her away from the crowd and urged her to share some beers with him. He convinced her to go back to his hotel room. He made her big promises he never intended to keep, he was what we now call a player, but Mama didn’t know that.”

“What a jerk,” Howie said sympathetically.

“But neither one counted on Auntie Marie telling father where Mama was. Papa Boyd showed up with his shotgun and caught them in bed together. He gave James a choice – marry Mama or wind up in jail for rape.” Howie whistled softly. “James woke up the preacher and he married them right then and there. Mama went back home just long enough to gather up some clothes and say goodbye to her family. It was heart wrenching for her, her entire life changed in just a few hours.”

“Wow, that must have been hard on them all. How old was she?”

“Almost 18, but already graduated from high school. She was the oldest of six children, and quite the hell raiser, I understand.”

Howie laughed. “No wonder her father was so anxious to get rid of her.”

Lyric agreed. “Life on the road wasn’t what Mama thought it would be – living in dirty, insect infested motel rooms, never having enough to eat, and the countless miles in the cab of the truck. It wasn’t the tidy house and white picket fence that she’d always dreamed of.”

“I guess not. Life on the road is hard, although much easier when you have money,” he added.

“Not long later, Mama discovered she was pregnant. James wasn’t happy about it, he had enough problems feeding the two of them let alone a baby. He wanted her to go back home to have the baby but Mama wouldn’t go, she was humiliated enough with her shotgun wedding. And she had the feeling that James would never come back for her.” She stared out at the trees, trying to put herself in her mother’s shoes and failing. “They had intended to be in New Orleans by the time I was born, but Mama went into premature labor. I was born in the truck on a dirt road outside Hattiesburg, Mississippi.”

“In the truck, really?” Howie was incredulous.

Lyric nodded. “We were fortunate that a doctor happened to be on his way home and stopped, he arrived just after I was born. He said we needed to go to the hospital but James didn’t have the money so we didn’t go, it was back on the road again. Mama got sick, she couldn’t take care of me by herself so James had to help. Mama said I cried all the time because she never had enough milk to nurse me properly.”

“Probably because she was malnourished herself,” Howie said softly.

Lyric agreed. “I was only a couple weeks old when we got to New Orleans. The preacher set up his tent in the 9th Ward, he had a huge crowd that night. Mama and I were in a motel next door. James came home late but left before dawn, leaving a note for Mama that he couldn’t take it anymore. She went to the preacher but he wouldn’t let us stay with them, he couldn’t afford to take care of us.”

“What did your mama do?” Howie asked, thoroughly engrossed in Lyric’s story.

“The manager kicked us out at daybreak, James hadn’t even paid for the room. Mama wandered the streets until she heard singing – she followed the voices to a church. She went inside, the parishioners could see how sick she was.” Lyric started crying, tears rolled down her cheeks. “A doctor took Mama to his house, gave her some medicine. Mama Thibodeaux had just had a baby, so she took me and nursed me until Mama was well enough.”

“No wonder you were so upset over losing that family! Mama T was your mama too.” Howie hugged her and held her tightly until her sobs eased.

“We lived with them until I was six. I came home from school one day and there was Mama on the porch with a strange man. Next thing I know, Mama packed me into a car and we left. I remember Mama T standing next to the street, crying her eyes out, waving. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.”

“And that strange man was James?”

Lyric nodded. “He convinced her that he had been looking for her for years, how much he had missed us. He told her he had a good job in California and a house waiting for us. Mama wanted to believe it, she wanted something better for me so we went.”

“And was James lying?”

“No, he had a good job and a house so we stayed.” Howie could see Lyric was thinking about her past, about her life so long ago.

“And…?” he prompted.

“And I don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” Lyric said, standing up, unable to meet Howie’s eyes.

Howie reached out and wiped the tears off Lyric’s cheeks. “Thank you, Ricky, for sharing that with me. It means a lot that you trust me.”

Lyric looked up at him, a quizzical look on her face. “Why did you call me Ricky?”

“Everyone needs a pet name, right?” He hugged her tightly. “Everyone calls me Sweet D. I think you look like a Ricky to me. Is that ok?”

Lyric blushed and nodded. “Although sweet isn’t what I would call you most of the time,” she said with a sly smile. “Smart ass is more like it.”

Lyric wandered the empty halls of the small brick building. It was late, nearly 2 am, and most of the employees had gone home ages ago. She could hear voices on the other side of the wall, the group was recording.

“Howie wouldn’t let you go back to the hotel?” Vic asked. Lyric turned at the voice, she hadn’t expected to run into anyone.

“He likes for me to be here, in case he needs anything,” she explained with a smile. “Plus I like to be here too. I love how goofy they all get.”

“Yes, they do like to fool around when they’re recording,” Vic agreed. “But then most artists do – it helps relieve some of the tension. Recording is very serious business.”

“Um, yeah,” Lyric said with a smile, dodging Nick as Alex chased him down the hallway with a large pillow. “Very serious indeed.”

Vic laughed, taking her arm and pulling her out of the way as the pair came running back towards them, Alex swinging the pillow wildly. Nick ducked and Alex hit her in the face.

“Shit! Sorry Ricky…” Alex grabbed her and hugged her, then ran off in hot pursuit.

“Are you ok?” Vic asked, reaching out to straighten her hair.

“Yeah, I’m used to the monkey business.”

“Let’s go outside where it’s quiet. It’s a beautiful night.” Vic led the way out a side door. It was still quite warm outside, the crickets chirped loudly in the flower beds outside the building. “Have you ever been to Nashville before?”

Lyric shook her head. “It’s very pretty here, I like it,” she said.

“I’m glad you like it,” Vic said, pulling her into his arms. “And I’m glad you’re here.” He lowered his head and captured her lips. Lyric shuddered when his fingertips brushed her cheek. After a long moment, she broke off the kiss and stepped back out of his arms.

“Is something wrong?” Vic asked, his eyes shining in the moonlight.

“No…it’s just moving too fast,” she said, walking to a nearby bench and sitting down. She’d only met Vic three days before. He had been really forward with her, wanting to hug and kiss before she was ready for that – plus he was already pressing her to come home with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting down next to her. “I just think you’re amazing and I want to get to know you so much better,” he admitted.

“I’m not the type of girl who goes home with a guy on the first date,” she said softly. “To be completely honest with you, Vic, I don’t intend on sleeping with anyone until after I’m married.”

“That is admirable, Lyric. You are in the vast minority, especially in the music industry.”

“Yes, I know. But I made a promise to my mama and I fully intend on keeping that promise.”

“I understand. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun, does it? I’d love to show you around Nashville tomorrow, if your boss will let you have some time off.”

“I think that can be arranged,” she said. Vic kissed her again, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. When she pulled away a little, he backed off and led her back inside. As they approached the studio, he pulled her into his arms again. “Just one more…I can’t resist you, you’re so damn beautiful.”

Lyric allowed him to kiss her, responding to the insistence of his lips. He backed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers. Lyric could feel his desire, hard against her belly. It didn’t disgust her, but didn’t cause her to feel weak in the knees either.

Howie came around the corner and stopped short, surprised at seeing Lyric in a serious lip lock with their producer. He pushed back the sudden surge of anger he felt, watching the man put his hands all over Lyric’s lush body. He knew he had no right to keep Lyric from seeing someone - but wished he had warned her about Vic before they’d arrived, the man was a known womanizer. He stepped back into the darkened hallway behind him and started singing lyrics from a song they were recording.

“…kissing and touching with my hands all over your booty….mmm, I want your PDA… Hey Vic? You around?” he yelled, giving the couple time to separate before he appeared. “We need you in the studio, dude.”

In the SUV on the way back to the hotel, Howie broached the subject with Lyric. “You like him?” he asked.

“Who?” Lyric asked sleepily. She was leaning against Alex, who had a protective arm around her.

“Vic. He seems to be paying a lot of attention to you since we got here – dinner last night, lunch this afternoon...”

“Yeah, he seems like a nice guy. Why?” Lyric was suddenly alert, she wondered if Howie had seen them together that evening.

“It’s just that…” He stopped, unsure of how to explain it Lyric, who was more than a little naïve about the sexual nature of music industry relationships. “He’s got a reputation, Lyric, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“You mean he’s a player?”

Nick snorted loudly. “He’s a bigger player than Alex!”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Alex said, kicking Nick in the shin.

“What’s the big deal? He’s cute, he’s nice to me, and for once I get to hang out with a guy who isn’t one of ya’ll.”

“You mean you’re tired of us already?” Brian feigned indignation.

“No, of course not. But I can’t date any of you and I…well…,” Lyric stuttered, unable to voice her real thoughts.

“Have sexual itches you need to scratch?” Alex piped in, causing Lyric to blush wildly.

“Just so you understand what he’s after,” Howie said, ignoring Lyric’s discomfort.

“We already had that discussion this evening, thank you very much, big brother,” Lyric said sarcastically. “He knows nothing is going to come of this, and he still wants to hang out with me,” Lyric informed them. She understood they all had her best interest at heart, but that didn’t make this any easier on her.

“Vic’s the eternal optimist then,” Alex laughed. “Coz really all he wants is in her pants.”

“Don’t burst her bubble, man,” Nick said. “Let her believe that Vic really likes her for her sweet personality and intelligence – and not for those huge ta-ta’s she’s always flaunting.”

“I hate ya’ll,” Lyric said, pulling out of Alex’s embrace and turning to look out the window. Despite her best efforts, tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Aw, honey, we were just teasing,” Alex said, trying to hug her. She shrugged him off, turning away so no one could see her cry. When they pulled up to the hotel, she jumped out and ran up to her room, not waiting for the others.

Lyric knew it was Howie when there was a soft knock on her door. She checked the peephole, just to make sure, and then opened it.

“Ricky, I’m so sorry…” Lyric turned away from him, preferring to look at the view of the parking lot outside her window.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. She could feel his warm breath on her ear, a shudder ran down her spine. “I shouldn’t have said anything in front of the fellas, it was really stupid of me. I apologize, sweetheart.”

Lyric didn’t say anything, just reached up and angrily wiped away the tears.

“I saw him kissing you and I was…jealous,” he admitted softly.

“Why in the world would you be jealous?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, Ricky. I feel so possessive of you and I have no right to…”

Lyric turned in his arms, looked up into his eyes. He was completely serious, there was no mocking smirk on his handsome face. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, her hands on his chest.

With a groan, Howie deepened the kiss, tightening his arms around her until her body was molded to his. With a shock of recognition, Lyric realized that he desired her – and that she wanted him too. Vic’s kisses hadn’t set her blood to boiling like Howie was doing to her now.

Howie let his hands roam over her body, enjoying the feel of her curves that he had only dreamed about from afar. Lyric buried her hands in his hair, pulling his head down to deepen the kiss. She startled when his tongue touched hers, breaking the spell.

Reluctantly, Howie pushed her gently away. “We can’t do this, Ricky. It would be too…complicated.” He’d been telling himself that from day one, desperately trying to ignore the sexual pull between them.

“You’re right,” she whispered, willing her voice not to break. He stroked her face with his fingertips, looking deep into her eyes. He hated the pain he saw in them, praying he wasn’t the one who had put it there.

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then let their cheeks touch for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, the words so soft that Lyric thought she might have imagined them.

Lyric turned away from Howie so he couldn’t see the agony in her face. She heard the door click softly as he left. She collapsed on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

The next day at the studio, she pointedly ignored Vic and stayed inside the studio with the fellas so she didn’t have to talk to him.

“Hey baby, what’s up? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, finally able to catch her alone as she left the women’s bathroom. When she didn’t respond and kept walking, he followed her back into the control booth. “Come on, honey – tell me what’s going down.”

She turned and confronted him. “I understand that all you want from me is sex, and that you’ll do anything or say anything to get it.” Lyric was her usual blunt self, she saw no reason to sugarcoat the truth.

“Who told you that?” he asked, feigning indignation.

“My family in there,” she said, indicating the four men in the next room - who were watching with interest how this played out. “They’re trying to keep me safe from a known player. Are you a player, Vic? Is that all you wanted from me?” she asked. Lyric was surprised to see Vic actually squirm a little under her intense scrutiny.

“Yes, I admit it – I want to have sex with you…and every beautiful girl I meet.”

Lyric slapped him across the face. “That’s for all the girls you’ve played.” She walked back into the studio with her head held high.

“She showed you, dude,” Nick said into the microphone, a smirk on his face.

Before Lyric knew it, her one year anniversary with Howie came and went. For the past eight months, the group had been working on a new album. Lyric flew with them to Sweden for two weeks, her first overseas visit.

Howie was often gone several weeks at a time, sometimes leaving her behind. She used the time to spruce up her house – she bought new furniture, replaced all the appliances and painted. She wished her mother could see how cute the house looked.

As she got to know the other members of the band, she grew to love all of them. They each had their own special quirks but before long she felt like a member of their extended family.

Lyric had also grown to love Howie’s family too. He often sent her to pick them up at the airport when they came to visit. She had been to their home in Florida as well, the family was as gracious and kind as her boss.

When her cell phone rang, Lyric wasn’t surprised to see the call was from Momma D. She often called Lyric when she couldn’t get Howie to answer his phone.

“What’s up, mi mama?” she asked. Lyric felt like Paula was her second mom, the woman treated her like a daughter instead of her son’s employee.

“I need to reach Howie as soon as possible,” Momma D said.

“Is something wrong? You sound upset.”

“I really need to talk to him. Do you know where he is?” Momma D sounded like she’d been crying, but Lyric didn’t want to pry.

“The fellas are doing a little last minute recording,” Lyric said. The album was nearly complete, their studio time now was mainly to put finishing touches to songs already recorded. “I can interrupt him…”

“No, that’s not necessary. Don’t have him call until he gets home…and be sure to stay with him, ok?”

Lyric didn’t like the sound of that request. When people said that, really bad news usually followed. “It will probably be in the middle of the night when he’s done,” Lyric cautioned.

“I don’t care, I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight anyway.”

Lyric hung up the phone with a heavy heart. Something bad was about to happen, she could feel it in her gut. She hoped Howie would have the strength to deal with whatever it was.

It was 3 am when Lyric delivered the message. Howie spent just a few minutes on the phone, then hung up. Tears were running down his face.

She sat down on the couch next to him, and pulled him into her arms. She didn’t ask what was wrong, if he wanted her to know he’d tell her. What he needed now was someone to hold him.

Lyric had never seen this much emotion in him before, he usually held things in. Deep sobs wracked his body, though few tears flowed, he had cried them out already.

“It’s so not fair,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“What’s not fair?” Lyric asked softly.

“That the good ones are taken from us before we’re ready to let them go.”

Lyric smoothed his hair, it was standing every which way. “It happens all too often.”

“His cancer is back, and it’s not treatable. He can’t win this battle.”

“Who, sweetheart?”

“My dad.”

Lyric knew Howie’s father had battled cancer several years earlier, but hadn’t known that it could come back. “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I have to leave in the morning. I need to be with my family.”

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do to clear out your schedule.” She started to get up but he pulled her back down.

“Please don’t go,” he whispered. “I need…I need you to hold me.”

Lyric felt herself drowning in his eyes, bottomless pools of puppy dog brown. She pulled him into her arms again, holding him tightly. She knew what it was like to lose a parent, to suddenly have to face their mortality when you thought that they would live forever.

“My mom, she died of cancer,” Lyric said softly.

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“She never told me it was terminal. I watched her die, three long years she fought it.” Lyric felt the tears come to her eyes. “Then one day she was gone, just like that.”

“You didn’t have any warning?” Howie looked up at her, tears in his eyes too.

“No. She didn’t want to burden me.” She wiped at her eyes. “I never got to say goodbye,” she whispered, then couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. He held her while she cried, finally letting out the pain she’d been holding in for so long.

“I’m sorry, Ricky…” Howie finally understood now where all the pain in her soul had come from – being abandoned by both of her parents, both choosing to leave her without the finality of a goodbye.

Without thinking, he was kissing her, his lips soft, almost questioning. He laid her back on the couch, laying on top of her.

“I shouldn’t do this – but I can’t help it…” he whispered.

Lyric stroked his face with gentle fingertips, his cheeks wet with tears. She wished there was something she could do to ease his pain.

Howie unclipped her hair, letting it fall, fanning like a curtain of silk over the couch. He buried his hands in the mass, pulled her head back to gain access to her neck.

Lyric shivered as his kisses trailed down her throat, his lips warm. He recaptured her mouth, demanding entrance. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue full access. She’d never been kissed like this before, the feeling sent her pulse racing as he explored.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing the valley at the base of her neck and then exploring lower. Lyric wondered if Howie had changed his mind, she prayed it was so. She dreamed of his kisses, of his touch, of the taste of his mouth.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered, and he gladly obliged. Lyric’s heart was pounding, her senses reeling. Never before had she experienced such desire.

As Howie broke off the kiss, Lyric heard a ringing in her ears. It took a moment for her to realize it was his cell phone. He reached down to pick it up off the floor where it had fallen.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” was all he said, then hung up. Lyric could see the pain and sorrow in his eyes. A teardrop fell onto her cheek, she didn’t wipe it away.

“I’m sorry for this, sweetheart. I know I promised not to touch you again…but damn, you’re irresistible,” he said, then kissed her once more gently before he went into his room and shut the door.

“Not again,” she sighed. “I don’t know why I stay.” She went to her bedroom but it was a long while before she fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Lyric woke the next morning, Howie was already gone. He’d left without even saying goodbye.

A note on the table read: “Clear my schedule, text me if there is anything you can’t cancel.” It was cold and impersonal, not even signed, a slap in the face after the tenderness he’d shown her the night before. She hoped she hadn’t been this cruel to Matt when he’d tried to comfort her after her mother died.

She wondered if it had been the kiss – had she done something wrong? Had he regretted kissing her? Or did he just not want to face her? She felt confused and a little humiliated – she thought he was coming to care for her. Perhaps she was wrong about that, maybe he considered her just an employee after all.

Lyric spent the next three days making phone calls and sending emails, trying to rearrange his schedule to allow him time to spend with his family. Most people were understanding of his situation and rescheduled without any problem.

However, some recording sessions couldn’t be rescheduled because of contractual issues with the producers. To minimize his time away from his family, Howie would fly in and return as quickly as possible. He would rent a car at the airport, spend 12 or 15 hours in the studio, then fly back out without even stopping at home.

Lyric didn’t even know when he was coming for sure, he didn’t share his flight information. He wouldn’t answer his phone, only responding to text messages. Lyric could understand the agony he and his family must be going through, but she couldn’t understand his resistance to talking to her, or even letting her know how things were going with the family.

“Momma D? Sorry to bother you, I can call back later if this is a bad time…”

“No, Lyric, it’s ok. How are you?”

“Worried about you and Howie. He won’t talk to me.”

“He’s taking this really hard, Hoke is his idol, his inspiration.” Paula’s voice broke softly. “He’s been the cornerstone to the family for so long, I just don’t know what we’re going to do without him.”

“I wish I was there to give you a big hug, mi mama. I feel so bad being here when I could be there to support you.” Lyric felt the tears come to her eyes. “I don’t know why Howie doesn’t want me there, why he won’t talk to me.”

“I don’t know either, mi hija. I will call you in a couple of days, ok? I have to go.”

“Te quiero, mi mama.”

Three weeks later, Hoke passed away in his sleep. Lyric was glad that he had a peaceful passing, with his family by his side. She wished she’d been with her mother, instead her mom had died all alone.

Howie’s sister Angie texted her the funeral information, Howie hadn’t had the decency to even let her know that. Lyric booked her ticket, using her own money, and arrived the afternoon of the viewing.

She approached the coffin, it was only her second time to witness death so closely, so personally. Hoke had always been kind to her, treated her like a daughter. He’d been the only true father figure in her life, and she was going to miss him greatly.

“What are you doing here?” Lyric looked up into Howie’s big brown eyes, wiping the tears from her face. “I didn’t invite you.”

“Paying my respects to a man I admired and loved,” Lyric responded, hurt by the tone in his voice.

“Howard!” Momma D admonished him. “Lyric is family, she has every right to be here. I’m ashamed of how you’ve been treating her.”

Howie walked away without a word. “It’s ok, mi mama. I’m here for you, for the rest of the family, even if he doesn’t want me here.”

“I think Howard is a little loco right now,” Momma D said. “Please forgive him.” She hugged Lyric and thanked her for coming.

Lyric tried to stay out of Howie’s way for the next two days. She could see that his grief was overwhelming, she wanted to comfort him – but he wouldn’t even look at her.

She flew back home the day after the funeral, not wanting to get in the way as the family continued to mourn. She still didn’t hear anything from Howie, she continued to clear his schedule for him until she heard otherwise.

Lyric was sitting at his desk, paying bills, when she realized she wasn’t alone. Howie stood in the doorway.

“Hey, how are you?” she asked softly.

“Fine,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

“You don’t look fine, boss.” Howie had huge circles under his eyes, he’d lost weight even.

“I’ll be ok, quit fussing. You’re as bad as my mother.” Howie sounded cross.

Lyric looked at her watch, it was close to dinner time. “Are you hungry? I have a pizza coming.”

“No thanks. I’m just going to go lay down for a bit. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went into his bedroom and closed the door.

Lyric ate a slice of the pizza and left the rest in the fridge for Howie. She didn’t know if he’d eat any, but at least it was there for him.

She approached the house with some trepidation the next morning – would the old Howie or the new one be there to greet her?

“Good morning,” Howie said, smiling, as she entered the kitchen. “Did you bring donuts?”

Life was not quite back to normal after Howie returned from Florida. In a rush to make up rescheduled meetings and recording time, Howie turned his normal 10 hour days into 18 hours.

Lyric was hard pressed to keep up with him. She slept at his house more than she did her own. She was sure that he kept so busy on purpose, so he didn’t have to think about his father. And not once did he mention the kiss, the tenderness that he had shown her. Lyric often wondered if she had just dreamed it.

As they waited in traffic at the airport, she checked the Blackberry for his schedule.

“Ok, tonight you’re flying out to Miami, be there two days and then to New York City for three days and then back to LA – right?”

“Yes. When I get back to LA, I’ll be in the studio for at least a week.”

“Which means late nights for me, huh?”

Howie grinned at her. “You got it.”

Lyric didn’t mind the long nights at the studio, she enjoyed listening to them record. But it was the continual goofiness of these late nights that she really enjoyed.

She checked the schedule again. “Then back to New York for a day, Florida for a couple days, and then back to LA. Whew, you’re gonna be one tired puppy,” she laughed.

“And what will you be doing while I’m gone?” he asked.

“Laying out by the pool, working on my tan,” she teased.

“I don’t think so,” he said with a smile. “I left a long list of things I need done while I’m gone. I think you’ll be just as busy as me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she laughed. She was glad to see that Howie hadn’t completely lost his sense of humor.

******

Howie sat back and watched the crowd at the club. Thanks to his seat in the VIP lounge, he didn’t have to worry about pushing his way to the bar – the waitress just kept bringing him drinks.

Scantily clad women danced just beyond his reach, trying to catch his eye. Most were way too young for him, just barely old enough to gain admittance to the club. That didn’t keep him from looking though.

He wasn’t in the market for a long term commitment, but he wasn’t into the one night stand scene anymore either.

“I got some girls who want to meet you,” Eric said, breaking into his thoughts. Howie looked up, Eric was holding the hand of bleach blonde young woman, older than the normal crowd, but still very pretty. The other woman was a petite Asian girl, probably not even five feet tall. Her hair hung in a sleek black curtain down her back.

“Hi, I’m Howie,” he said.

“I’m Hilary, nice to meet you,” the blonde said, sitting down next to him. He could see why Eric liked her, she had breasts three times normal size.

“I’m Orchid,” the other girl said softly, Howie could barely hear her. He ordered them both a drink and they sat back to talk, as much as the loud music allowed.

When the club closed at 2 am, Eric suggested they return to Howie’s house to continue the party. Howie didn’t mind, he didn’t have any plans for the next morning. He was finally caught up on meetings and he wasn’t scheduled to record for another week.

Howie woke the next morning to find both Hilary and Orchid draped over him in bed, all of them naked, and Lyric standing in the doorway to his room, frowning.

“We were going shopping this morning, remember?” she said, pointing at her watch. “You need something to wear to the movie premiere…”

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” he said.

“Just come out when you’re ready to go, I’ll wait.” She pulled the bedroom door closed. This wasn’t the first time she’d walked in on Howie with a woman in his bed – but the first time she’d caught him with two girls at once. She had no right to judge him, but she wished that he had a little more common sense when it came to women.

She heard a noise and turned, thinking it was Howie, but it was the blonde woman who walked out of his room – completely naked. Lyric could only wonder at how the woman stayed upright with such huge breasts.

“What are you staring at?” the woman demanded. “Ain’t you never seen a naked woman before?”

“I was just thinking what an amazing job your plastic surgeon did,” Lyric admitted.

“Oh, you like them?” She put her hands under her breasts and hefted them, no easy feat. “Took my tips from six months of stripping to pay for these, but they are worth it!”

“They are…quite stupendous,” Lyric said, holding back laughter.

“They’re what – stupid? Go to hell, bitch!” The woman picked up her clothes from the living room floor and stormed back into Howie’s room.

“Wow, he picked a live one this time,” Lyric muttered to herself. While she waited, she picked up the dirty dishes left behind from the night before.

“You don’t have to do that,” Howie said, coming up behind her. “Rita comes to clean today, she’ll take care of it.”

“Weren’t you afraid she’d suffocate you during the night?” Lyric asked with a grin.

Howie laughed. “I don’t even remember what happened last night, to be honest. I was as surprised to see them in my bed as you were.” Lyric handed him a cup of hot tea. “Thanks, I need it this morning.”

“Little hung over, are you?”

“Mm, wee bit.”

“What do we do about them?” Lyric asked, they could hear the shower running.

“Just leave? Maybe they’ll go away on their own?”

Lyric wagged her finger at him. “I don’t think you’re gonna get out of this one quite that easy, buster. Blondie looks to be the clingy type.”

“Damn.”

“I didn’t see an extra car out front this morning either, so looks like we’ll be taking the bitches….um, your guests, home before we go shopping.” She looked down at her watch. “It sucks that your stylist is out of town this week. Guess I will have to do. Only fair since you got to pick out clothes for me.”

“And a damn good job I did of it, too.”

“Yes, you did a fine job,” Lyric agreed. Her wardrobe had definitely improved since Howie started helping her buy clothes. No longer dowdy, Lyric felt downright stylish and sexy most of the time. Even Alex approved of her clothes now, no easy feat.

******

With recording finished and a lull before the tour started, Howie’s schedule became less hectic. There were more meetings and planning sessions to attend, but those were held in the daytime so Howie’s evenings were free. And he took full advantage of that.

Lyric would come to work to find Howie passed out, usually on the couch, but sometimes in the kitchen or bathroom. His drinking was becoming a problem, but every time she tried to bring it up, he denied there was an issue.

And then there were Hilary and Orchid, the strippers who had become Howie’s best friends. It seemed Hilary was everywhere they went – Lyric swore the woman was stalking them. Orchid wasn’t nearly as pushy as her friend was, she’d come over to the house when Hilary was there.

“Are you going to do something about her?” Lyric asked him one morning when Hilary arrived uninvited, interrupting a conference call with one of the producers.

It was bad enough that she’d shown up uninvited, but she’d also dragged along Orchid and several men as well. She didn’t consider them Howie’s friends, they were his ‘posse,’ his pretend friends as Lyric called them.

“What can I do? She won’t take no for an answer.”

“Money talks for a woman like that, Howie. Introduce her to someone who has more money than you.”

Lyric finally left mid afternoon, she couldn’t stand to watch Howie get stupid drunk. And Hilary just made her sick to her stomach, the woman had no morals whatsoever – and very few brain cells.

At 2 am, Lyric’s cell phone rang. It was Luke, the bouncer at Howie’s favorite club.

“You best come get dem, dey’s falling down drunk, dey are. I got da keys, he no be driving.”

“Thanks, Luke. I’ll be there in about 30 minutes – can you keep him there that long?”

“No problem, missy.”

She hung up the phone with a sigh. These middle of the night phone calls were getting more common, she had a deal with the bouncers at most of the clubs Howie frequented.

When she arrived, Lyric found the group still inside the club, even though it had closed for the night. True to his word, Luke hadn’t let them leave.

“Thanks, Luke.” She handed him a $100 bill for his troubles.

“Iz my pleasure, Miss Lyric. Luke help keep da boss man out of trouble, eh?”

Lyric herded the group to the SUV, got them loaded and took them back to Howie’s house. As usual, Eric tried to grab her when she helped him from the car.

“If you don’t want to lose that hand, asshole, better keep it to yourself.” Eric just grinned, and then leaned over and vomited at her feet, making her jump back in disgust. “At least you didn’t do it in my car.”

Eric and his friends usually crashed in the spare bedrooms. Hilary and Orchid went to sleep with Howie. Lyric never stayed the night when the pretend friends were there, she didn’t trust them any further than she could throw them.

Lyric called Matt whenever she needed help in retrieving Howie’s car from a club parking lot. So far the car had been safe, but Lyric felt it was only a matter of time before someone stole it or vandalized it.

Howie never acknowledged the extra effort that went into keeping him safe – and out of the tabloids. Lyric took the payoff money from petty cash, Howie never bothered to check it any more. In fact, he didn’t do any of the book keeping or bill paying.

Lyric was actually running Howie’s businesses, he was barely lucid most of the time anymore. He didn’t know what he was signing when she gave him paperwork, had no idea the state of his finances at all. She thought Howie was damn lucky she was so honest, she could’ve wiped him out completely and taken off with his entire fortune.

******

One evening, Lyric overheard Eric making plans to meet with his supplier. He asked Howie to join him for a little drive.

When they didn’t return in a couple of hours, Lyric became worried. On her laptop, she opened the GPS program she’d installed. On Howie’s cell phone, she had secretly loaded a program which allowed her to see exactly where he was.

She paled when she saw which neighborhood he was in, and the fact that he’d been there for much too long. Opening a drawer in the kitchen, she got out the stun gun she’d purchased. It was small but powerful enough to bring down a grown man. She slipped it into her purse and headed for the SUV.

She brought up the GPS program on her phone and was able to track Howie to his exact location. Eric’s car was parked outside a squalid house, there was no sign of Howie. She called his phone, after several rings he answered.

“Please come outside and get in my car,” she asked, not wanting to anger him. She had no idea if he was high and she didn’t want to provoke a fight. “It’s time to go home, Howie.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

“Please, Howie. I’m scared out here alone and I need you.” That wasn’t a lie, the neighborhood was dangerous and dark, few street lights lit the area.

“I didn’t ask you to come after me,” he said and hung up.

Lyric sighed, she was going to have to go in after him. She activated the stun gun, slipped it into her coat pocket, and walked up to the house.

“Howie, your bitch is at the door.” The man who answered was ragged and filthy, his stench made Lyric back up two steps.

“Tell her to go the fuck away,” Eric yelled.

“I’m not going anywhere without Howie,” she yelled back. She wouldn’t go into the house unless absolutely necessary to retrieve her boss.

“I’m not leaving, Lyric, so go away and leave me alone!”

“Howie, get your ass out here right now!” Lyric was losing hope that she’d be able to get him out of the house. But he surprised her by showing up in the doorway. She backed up a few steps, hoping to lure him out where she could grab him.

“You aren’t my mother, bitch! If I want to stay here all night and get high, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Lyric could see that he was indeed high already. It was time to switch game plans, demanding that he leave obviously wasn’t going to work.

“Aw, come on, baby. I thought maybe we might have some fun back home…” She unbuttoned her blouse halfway down, revealing a black lace bra. She saw the confused look on his face.

“She’s just playin’ you, dude,” Eric said. “She’s an ice cold bitch.”

“Ice to you, asshole,” she threw at Eric. “But I’m hot for him.” She walked up to Howie and wrapped herself around him, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss, grabbing his ass with one hand.

“You show him, bitch,” the filthy man said, coming closer. Lyric slipped her hand into her coat pocket and flipped off the safety switch on the stun gun. “Maybe you give me some too.”

Lyric broke off the kiss, took Howie’s hand and started to move towards the street.

“Not so fast!” the man said, grabbing her arm. Lyric pulled the stun gun out and pressed it into his upper chest, pulling the trigger and holding it for several seconds. He fell to the ground, muscles twitching. Lyric saw the handle of a gun sticking out from the waistband of his jeans.

Lyric grabbed Howie’s hand and pulled him to the car, shoving him into the front seat. Eric ran towards the car, reaching in to grab her as she climbed in over Howie.

She touched Eric’s arm with the stun gun and pulled the trigger. Eric jerked his arm back, he didn’t get much of a shock but it was enough to numb his arm, making him release his hold on her.

“You fucking bitch, I’m gonna kill you!” he shouted, grabbing his arm. Lyric pulled the door shut and locked it.

Within seconds she had the car started, pulling away with screeching tires in her haste to depart. Looking in the mirror, she could see that the man was still on the ground, Eric stood in the middle of the street, yelling.

Once out of the neighborhood, Lyric pulled over. Howie was coherent but unresponsive when she asked him to buckle his seat belt. She climbed over and did it for him. She buttoned her blouse, climbed back in the driver’s seat and headed for home.

Once back at Howie’s house, she somehow managed to get him into bed. Only then did she look back at what had happened, at the danger they both had been in.

Trembling in fear, she checked all the doors and windows of the house, making sure they were securely locked. The security cameras showed that the front gate was closed as well. Just that morning she’d changed all the security codes to the house – effectively locking out Howie’s friends – at least until he told them the codes again.

Lyric laid down in bed next to Howie. She was scared and nervous and didn’t want to sleep alone in her room. And she was worried about Howie, she didn’t know what drugs he was on, she wanted to be close in case he needed her. Lyric made sure the phone and the stun gun were under her pillow.

“Please, Howie…I wanna come! Lyric gets to go, why don’t I?” Hilary whined.

“Lyric is my assistant, I need her to come. No one else is taking family or friends, Hilary. This is just a quick demo tour, we won’t be doing any sightseeing or anything fun – just dashing from one radio station to another and doing a couple of small shows.”

“But Howie, you promised I could go on tour with you…” Hilary unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on her shirt, letting her humongous assets spill out. Lyric resisted the urge to vomit.

“I’m sorry, Hil, but this really isn’t a tour. It’s gonna be nonstop chaos for two weeks and I wouldn’t even have any time to spend with you – you’d be bored to tears.” Howie had to try hard to keep the anger from his voice, he hated it when Hilary whined.

“Ok, then…but you swear I get to go on tour next time?”

“I promise, Hilary – you and Orchid both can come out on tour for a couple of shows when the real tour begins.” Hilary clapped her hands like a little child, happy to get her way.

Two weeks later, after four days of non-stop interviews and two shows, Howie was ready to collapse. Lyric didn’t know how the fellas managed to stay so upbeat and positive after hours of filming, answering insanely stupid questions from reporters, and then braving hordes of screaming fans.

“No more interviews until tomorrow afternoon,” Lyric assured him, helping him out of his coat. “Eight hours of pure sleeping bliss.”

“Amen, sister!” Howie sighed. He opened the mini bar and pulled out a small bottle of rum and a can of Coke. He filled the glass with ice and poured in the liquids, swirling it around to mix it. He took a deep gulp and closed his eyes. They flew open again when his phone rang, playing a clip of one of their recently recorded tunes.

“I'm spending all my money on her
No matter where I go there she is
Half-naked waiting for me
Waiting for me
Every little thing about her says she's trouble”

Howie looked at the display, it was Hilary calling. He looked up at Lyric. “Did you…?” She whistled and looked away, pretending to check out the artwork on the wall of their suite.

“Not funny, Ricky…” But Lyric saw he was grinning as he answered the phone. She walked to the window to give him a little privacy, but she couldn’t help but overhear Howie’s part of the conversation.

“It’s not morning here, Hilary – it’s 2 am. Yes, the time is different in Tokyo, honey, we’re halfway around the world.” Lyric could see the little vein in his forehead start to pop out, which only happened when he was really exasperated with someone. He took another large gulp of his drink.

“I’m not going to give you the gate code, Hilary – you and Orchid don’t need to crash at my house while I’m gone. I’m sorry the exterminator had to spray your apartment, can’t you find somewhere else to stay? It’s just that…oh ok, quit crying, please.”

Lyric was angry at Howie for giving in to Hilary, he had promised that the girls wouldn’t be staying in his house while they were gone. Lyric didn’t trust them at all, she knew they would have parties the entire time they were gone – there would be no telling how trashed the house would be.

Fifteen minutes and another drink later, Howie’s phone rang again. “I’m sorry there is nothing to eat there, Hilary. Lyric cleaned out the kitchen because we were going to be gone for two weeks. No, she didn’t do it on purpose just so you wouldn’t have anything to eat. Drive to the store and get you some groceries.” Howie closed his eyes and sighed. “I know you have money, Hil, don’t give me that shit.”

Howie held the phone away from his ear, Lyric could hear Hilary talking a mile a minute. “Is it my fault that you spent your tips on drugs?” He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Look, are you in the kitchen now? See the canisters, you know, those white jars on the counter? Look in the smallest one, there should be some cash in there – you can use that to buy some groceries.”

Lyric groaned quietly, she knew there was $500 in the petty cash jar – and all of it would be gone by the end of the day. Oh well, it was Howie’s money and he had a right to spend it however he wanted. “Even on brain cell deprived bimbos,” Lyric thought to herself.

After the phone rang for the fourth time in an hour, Howie finally shut it off. He finished off his third drink of the night and climbed wearily into bed.

“Good night, John Boy,” Lyric called from her room. Howie rolled his eyes, he loved how Lyric always knew how to make him smile when he was stressed out.

***********

“I’m so ready to crash,” Lyric groaned as she turned onto Howie’s street.

“Me too. I can’t believe we got diverted to San Francisco!” Howie looked at his watch. “It’s been 22 hours since we left the hotel in Kyoto.”

The new record debuted successfully in Japan, they had played several shows to sold out crowds. They both were exhausted from the trip, it had been chaotic non-stop traveling. The album would be dropping in North America in just two weeks and a new month long demo tour would start shortly thereafter.

“I’m going to sleep for two days,” Lyric sighed as she pulled into his gated driveway, hit the remote control button and waited for the gate to open.

“You aren’t driving home tonight, are you?” Howie asked. Lyric could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Are you kidding? I don’t think I have the energy to even get out of the car.” Howie laughed, he felt the same way.

“Damn!” Lyric muttered as she rounded the corner to the front of the house.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just tired.” Lyric really didn’t want to see that convertible Mercedes in the driveway. There was no way she could deal with Hilary’s attitude this night. “Oh look, Hilary’s here to welcome you home.” She couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from her voice.

“Be nice now,” Howie warned softly.

“Do I have to?” Lyric parked the car and climbed out. It took both of them to drag in the luggage, which they left in the foyer. Neither one wanted to even think about laundry after their two weeks away from home.

Candles were lit in the living room and soft music played. Hilary and Orchid slept on the couch, limbs intertwined – both half naked as usual.

“Every little thing about her says she’s trouble…” Lyric sang under her breath.

“Ricky, hush!”

“You know it’s true,” she hissed, then headed for her bedroom.

She didn’t want to witness their reunion. Howie’s behavior in Japan had turned her stomach, pleading and groveling at this woman’s feet to keep her happy. Every day she had called him, multiple times, until he finally had to turn his phone off to avoid her.

Lyric took a quick shower, pulled on a t-shirt and shorts, and crawled into bed. In no time at all, she was sound asleep.

“Lyric?” The bedroom light flipped on. “Are you asleep?”

Lyric groaned and glanced at the clock, 4 am – she’d been asleep for less than two hours.

“What do you want?” She tried to keep her tone civil.

“I’m hungry. Run out and get me something to eat.”

“It’s 4 o’clock in the morning, Hilary. Nothing is open. Go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep, I have the munchies.” Hilary sounded like a petulant child.

“And that’s my problem?” Lyric turned over and pulled the pillow over her head. She thought she’d smelled marijuana in the house when they’d arrived.

“You’re Howie’s assistant. He pays you more than you’re worth, so earn your money by going to get me something to eat.”

Lyric counted to ten before she answered. “I do not work for you. If Howie comes in here and asks me to go get him something to eat, then I’ll do it. Now get the hell out of my room.”

“It’s not your room, bitch. It’s Howie’s house, you’re an employee, and you’re just sleeping here.”

“So where does that put you then?” Lyric was getting tired of Hilary’s attitude. “You’re too stupid to know you aren’t even a girlfriend to him – just some woman who hangs out at his house.” She expected Hilary to lose her temper any second now.

“If you don’t go get me something to eat, I’m gonna go in and wake up Howie and he’ll make you go. And you know how much he likes to be woken up when he’s tired.”

“About as much as I do,” Lyric responded sarcastically. But she didn’t want the woman to wake up her boss. “If I go make you something to eat, will you leave us both alone for a while?”

Lyric wanted to slap the smug smile from Hilary’s face. She climbed out of bed and plodded down to the kitchen. There wasn’t much in there, she’d cleaned it out before they left.

“How about some breakfast, Hilary? That’s about all I can find.”

“I guess that will have to do,” she pouted. Lyric wished the knives weren’t just inches from her fingers.

Within 30 minutes, she had a full breakfast prepared – biscuits, eggs, hash browns and sausage. Even though she was dead tired, her stomach still managed to growl.

Hilary helped herself to a full plate of food, Lyric wondered how the girl stayed so thin when she ate like a horse.

“What the hell is going on?” Howie asked sleepily, running a hand through his hair. Lyric loved how he looked first thing in the morning, with his hair all messed up and still groggy from sleep. He wore only long sleep pants, leaving his muscular, and hairy, chest bare.

“I was hungry, baby. Lyric was nice enough to come fix me something to eat.” She went over and draped herself around Howie, Lyric wanted to throw up. No longer hungry, she threw away the biscuit she had been nibbling on.

“I had a feeling the smell would wake you up, boss. There’s plenty, can I fix you a plate?”

Howie nodded and sat down next to Hilary at the table. Lyric filled a plate and then poured him a cup of hot tea.

“Tea even? That was thoughtful, thank you.” The smile he gave her melted away all the anger in her heart. She turned to the sink and began to wash the dishes.

“Hil, that wasn’t nice to wake up Lyric to make you something to eat.” Howie scolded her in a soft voice.

“But what was I going to do? I was so hungry!” she whined back. “And that’s what you pay her to do anyway.”

Howie sighed. “She’s not a servant. And you could’ve heated up a Poptart or something.”

Shoving away her empty plate, Hilary stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair. “I’m finished,” she announced. “I’ll see you in bed, lover,” she purred, leaning over so that he got full view of her ample breasts.

Lyric rolled her eyes. “Whore,” she swore under her breath. She sure didn’t know what Howie saw in her, they were not compatible in any way. It was Alex that usually went for the stacked bimbos.

She often wondered about their relationship, they were never affectionate with each other and Howie was usually pretty touchy-feely with people he cared about. But Howie’s relationship was really none of her business.

Howie finished eating and brought their plates to the sink. “Thank you for making breakfast. I’ll finish up,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Go on, I’m sure Hilary and Orchid are waiting for you.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

He gave her an extra long hug. “Why don’t you like Hilary?”

“Got an hour?” Lyric said, smiling.

“You’re wicked!” Howie grinned, then kissed her on the cheek. “Good night, and I hope I don’t see you for a while.”

“Hope they let you get some sleep,” Lyric called after him.

She finished putting the dishes up, turned out the light, and headed back to bed. But she couldn’t sleep, it bothered her more than she cared to admit that Howie was having sex with those women. She knew she had no right to judge him, his private life was his own and she was just an employee.

“Just an employee, that’s all I’ll ever be,” she reminded herself as she drifted back to sleep.

“You’re chicken!” Alex taunted Lyric, making clucking noises as he circled her, flapping his arms like wings.

“Am not!”

“Are too! And I’ll even make a wager on it.”

“You’re on! What’s your bet?” Lyric didn’t like it when Alex teased her, and she saw a way to shut him up once and for all.

“You win, and I can’t tease you for two months. I win, and you get a tattoo. You pick what you want, but I pick where you get it.”

Lyric hesitated, she was deathly afraid of needles. But she felt confident in her ability to win this bet and agreed to the conditions.

“Ok, you gotta do it tonight though coz I want to see,” Alex said, grinning. They were sitting in Howie’s kitchen, drinking iced tea and eating fresh chocolate chip cookies Lyric had just baked.

“But…” Lyric was trying to formulate a plan in her mind and having to do the deed that night didn’t give her much time.

“No buts – I have to be here to keep you from lying.” Lyric didn’t like the smirk on his face. “And I fly out day after tomorrow for a week in Florida with my mom, so we have to do it tonight.”

Lyric sighed. Alex got her in trouble with Howie all the time, he was always stirring things up between them.

“Alright – here’s the plan. You and I are gonna hide in Howie’s closet and when they come home, we’ll be able to settle this bet.”

Later that evening, the two huddled behind Howie’s pants hanging on the lower bar in his closet. He’d been out partying with his friends and came home drunk as usual. Howie staggered first into the bathroom and then into the closet, where he changed into sleep pants and a t-shirt. It had been easy to stay out of sight, Howie hadn’t even turned on the light.

“Not long now,” Alex whispered, Lyric hushed him.

“Coming to bed, lover?” Hilary called. They could just see the bed from their vantage point, peeking out from behind the clothes.

But it wasn’t Howie that joined Hilary in bed – it was Orchid. Before too long, the two were locked in a loving embrace. Howie hadn’t been invited to join them – he stood and watched them for a moment and then left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

“I told you he wasn’t sleeping with them!” Alex hissed triumphantly in her ear. Lyric was stunned, she had been absolutely sure of winning. But in her heart of hearts, she was glad she had lost. She never liked the idea of Howie sleeping with the tarts, she was going to have to reassess her opinion on his taste in women. And she wondered why he was keeping up the deception.

It wasn’t long before the two women passed out in bed and the two voyeurs crawled from their hiding place. Howie was asleep on the couch; Lyric draped a soft throw over him before sneaking out of the house.

“Tomorrow we go get a tatt,” Alex said, grinning, as they climbed into their cars.

Lyric was true to her word, she met Alex at his house the next afternoon. Her stomach was queasy, she hadn’t slept much the night before.

“Scared?” Alex asked, seeing the look on her face.

“Yes, terrified – I hate needles! But I made a bet and lost.”

“Here, take a sip of this to ease your nerves.” He handed her a small flask, the liquid burned as it went down, but it did relax her. Alex drove her to his favorite local tattoo parlor and introduced her to Wulfe, a seriously scary looking man whose every inch of exposed skin was covered in body art. She tried to count the piercings and gave up after a dozen.

“So, what will it be?” the artist asked. Lyric had thought about it all night and knew just what she wanted.

“A butterfly,” she said, and handed him the tiny drawing she had brought with her. “And Alex, I want it somewhere it won’t be seen – maybe on the back of my neck?”

“Really?” Alex asked when he saw her graphic, the DLF butterfly logo. “Why this?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said fiercely.

“Ok, don’t get all huffy about it,” Alex said. He turned to Wulfe. “Go ahead and put it on the back of her neck, up near the hairline. The lady doesn’t want anyone to see your wonderful artwork.”

Lyric stuck her tongue out at him. “Don’t stick it out if you don’t want to share it,” Alex warned. It was a running joke with them, Lyric had picked up the habit as a child.

Lyric took another big gulp from the flask and then settled on the table, preparing for the worst. It hurt at first but then got numb, it was over before she knew it. The tattoo wasn’t much bigger than a nickel, the outline of a butterfly done in purple ink.

“Alex, you know I have a minimum,” Wulfe said. “I feel like I’m ripping you off, dude, this tatt is so small. I could give her another small one, won’t cost anything more.”

“I don’t think she wants another one,” Alex mused out loud.

“Ok,” Lyric said, surprising them both. “You pick, Alex – anything you want, anywhere you want – just so no one can see it unless I’m naked.”

Alex grinned, this was an unexpected bonus. He knew Lyric was tipsy, and he didn’t want to take advantage of her – but this was too good to pass up. The fellas would be talking about this for a long time.

Alex had a whispered conversation with the tattoo artist, who made a quick sketch and showed it to Alex for his approval.

“That’s perfect,” he agreed. “On her right hip.” Alex pulled Lyric’s short dress up to reveal lace panties, which he moved out of the way, being careful not to reveal anything intimate to the artist as he worked.

Lyric didn’t say a word as work began on her second tattoo. Her eyes were closed but Alex could tell she was still conscious. Wulfe wouldn’t have agreed to do the tattoos if Lyric was too drunk to know what was going on.

“Do you love him?” Alex asked out of the blue, startling Lyric.

“That is none of your damn business,” she said.

“So that’s a yes,” Alex said softly. “Has he ever kissed you?”

“Maybe.”

Alex leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Has he made love to you, sweetheart?”

Lyric shook her head. “No,” she said softly. He could read the regret in her beautiful face.

“I had a feeling you’d fallen for him, my little buttercup.” He leaned in closer. “How does he feel about you?”

“You need to ask him that question,” she said. “We have an unspoken agreement to ignore whatever we feel,” she said as Wulfe put the finishing touches to her tattoo.

“What about you, Alex? Want to add to your collection today?” Wulfe asked as he wiped away the extra ink from Lyric’s hip, carefully covered the new tattoo with a piece of Saran Wrap, and pulled the dress down.

“No, not today. I better get her home before she passes out.” Alex paid for the tattoos and helped Lyric out to the car, she was more inebriated than he thought.

When they got back to his house, he carried her inside and laid her on the bed in one of his spare bedrooms. He had no intention of letting her leave, drunk as she was, so he went to his room to get her a t-shirt to sleep in.

“Howie said you’re a lightweight when it comes to drinking. I see he meant it,” Alex said as he returned. He stopped in surprise as he came through the doorway, Lyric was sitting up in bed with only her panties on.

“Is it ok if I sleep here tonight? I shouldn’t drive home like this, I think I’m drunk,” she admitted.

“Of course it’s ok.” He handed her the shirt and then turned to leave, hoping that she’d cover herself before it was too late.

“Come lay down with me, k? I don’t want to sleep alone…” She patted the bed next to her. Alex hesitated but then gave in to his baser instincts.

It was nearly impossible to resist her, but Alex tried his best. He knew Lyric loved Howie, knew Howie had feelings for her as well. He’d seen the way the boy looked at her when she didn’t know it.

“One kiss won’t hurt,” he told himself, unable to look away from Lyric’s deep blue eyes. He captured her lips, they were soft and inviting. Her mouth tasted of fine aged Scotch, he felt himself getting drunk on the taste of her.

“Dear lord,” he exclaimed as his hands found the silken softness of her breasts. Lyric moaned as he suckled her, tasting first one taut nipple and then the other. He never could resist a nearly naked woman.

His hand moved of its own accord down her flat stomach, then between her legs. He slipped his fingers beneath her panties, she was hot and wet. Lyric moaned as he slid a finger into her, arching her hips against his hand.

Alex captured her mouth again, kissing her deeply while he pleased her. It didn’t take long to bring her to climax, she shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Oh Howie, I love you,” she whispered, then passed out in Alex’s arms.

“Howie doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he said to himself, climbing from the bed before he lost all of his scruples. “I may be a player, but I won’t betray my brother.” He pulled the comforter over her and walked from the room, ignoring the throbbing in his nether region.

Lyric woke with a blinding headache and stumbled to the bathroom for the aspirin she knew Alex kept in there. Only after she had downed the medication with a glass of water did she realize she was mostly naked, wearing only her lace panties. She couldn’t remember anything from the night before.

The back of her neck hurt, she reached up gingerly to touch it. When she remembered what was there, she smiled. She knew Alex would not reveal her little secret. But her hip also hurt, she pulled down the edge of her panties.

Lyric stormed into Alex’s room, the door was open so she didn’t even hesitate.

“Alex, what the hell…is…this…” She stopped short, her mouth hanging open. Alex was asleep, the sheets kicked off. Lyric’s eyes took in the tattoo around his belly button – and then moved lower. He was aroused, as many men are first thing in the morning. Lyric had never seen a naked man before and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight.

“Like what you see, honey?” Alex’s sleepy drawl startled her. He laughed when her face turned a brilliant red and she ran from the room. “The size always scares them at first,” he chuckled.

“Can’t settle down tonight, Howie?” Lyric asked as her boss paced back and forth on the bus. They were on the road, headed west from Kansas City on the way to Denver. It was pitch black outside the bus, very few lights lit up the night – only endless fields of knee-high corn.

They had been on tour in North America for little over a month now. Lyric hadn’t gone on tour with them in Europe, the band had hired someone else to assist them overseas. But Howie had insisted that Lyric could do the job, and so she was on tour with them, at least for this leg.

“I should be tired, but I just can’t sleep right now.”

Lyric was used to his restlessness, it happened after concerts quite frequently. “Want to stop and get something to eat?” She knew that sometimes a full stomach was the only thing that calmed him down.

“No, not hungry either.” He continued pacing, making Lyric nervous. “What are you doing?” He came to look over her shoulder.

“Just transferring some photos to my laptop.” Howie watched as she plugged a cable into the computer and then into the digital camera. With a few clicks, Lyric started the transfer.

“I saw you out there shooting tonight, get anything good?”

“How could I not?” she laughed.

“True,” Howie said with a snort. “We are very photogenic.”

Lyric playfully swatted his arm. “I did have fun, though. I just love my new camera.”

She’d always been interested in photography but her mother hadn’t been able to afford a camera for her. In high school, she’d taken a class and borrowed a camera from the instructor. Now that she had money in the bank, she was able to buy the camera of her dreams – a digital SLR, like the professionals use.

“That’s a great one,” Howie said, watching as Lyric scanned through the images. “You captured him so well.”

“Yeah, Nick all hot and sweaty – not hard to get that photo.” She laughed and continued scanning, liking most of the images she had captured.

Howie walked to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water, handing one to Lyric.

“What’s this?” he asked, his fingers grazing the nape of her neck. Lyric was dressed for bed in t-shirt and shorts, her hair pinned up with a large plastic clip.

“A tattoo,” she said, reaching back to unclip her hair, letting it fall down her back.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo. When did you get it?” She tried to cover the tattoo with her hand but he pushed it away, and then brushed the hair away from the small mark on her neck. He bent over to examine it more closely.

“Six months ago. I kinda lost a bet to Alex,” she admitted. Howie was tempted to ask about the bet, but then decided he really didn’t want to know. He had lost too many to Alex over the years and knew most of them were things he didn’t want to admit to.

“It’s a little butterfly, isn’t it?” Howie asked. Lyric could feel his breath warm on the back of her neck as he inspected the body art.

“It’s the DLF logo,” she admitted softly. A shudder ran through her as she felt him gently kiss the tattoo.

“Why?” he asked, sitting down on the bench seat next to her.

“Why did I get the tattoo? Or why that one?”

“Why the logo?” She could hear the curiosity in his voice.

Lyric couldn’t meet his eyes, he’d see through her lie in an instant. “Because I wanted to do something to show my support for your foundation and for your family.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he said, reaching out to touch her face. She was used to his touch by now, but it had taken her quite a long time as she hadn’t grown up in a demonstrative family as he had.

He leaned back and drained the small bottle of water, then let out a loud belch. “Excuse me,” he said with a grin. Lyric rolled her eyes, it was one of his tricks to get her to laugh when she was acting too serious.

“There is no excuse for you,” she said, closing the laptop with a click, then stowed it safely away in her bunk. “Feeling sleepy yet?”

“Nope. But you can go on to bed, I can tell you’re tired.”

“I’ll stay up a bit with you, I can sleep in tomorrow morning.”

They sat and talked for an hour, Lyric could tell that Howie was slowly starting to unwind from the long day.

“Have you ever been in love, Lyric?” The question shocked her. Over the last year, they had gotten to know each other quite well, but he’d never tried to pry into her personal life.

“I thought I was once, in high school.” She shrugged. “But when you’re kids, you don’t really know what love is.”

“With Matt?” Howie knew the two had gone to high school together.

Lyric nodded. “But it wasn’t meant to be, we never had any chemistry together except as friends.”

“No one in college?”

Lyric didn’t mind the questions, he wasn’t mocking, she could tell he was genuinely interested. “Didn’t have the time, I had a full class load and a full time job. No social life whatsoever. Just like now,” she laughed.

“I know the feeling,” Howie admitted. “Always being too busy working to find the right someone.”

“What about you?” Lyric asked. She didn’t think he’d mind the question, seeing as how he’d started the conversation. Howie gazed out into the darkness beyond the bus windows. It was many minutes before he answered.

“I don’t think I can,” he admitted.

“Why would you think that?” she said.

“I’ve met so many women over the years – thousands probably - and all I ever feel is lust. And once I’ve had her, even the lust goes away, and I’m left with nothing.”

It was Lyric’s turn to look out the window, she didn’t know what to say – he’d never been that frank with her before. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“Maybe so.” Lyric could feel his eyes on her. “How do you know when it’s the right one though?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “I have no personal experience with loving relationships.”

“But your parents…”

“…were not a good example of a loving relationship,” she sighed. “Remember when we were in New Orleans, how I told you about my father?”

Howie nodded. “You said he came and got you and you went to California.”

Lyric couldn’t sit still, she got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbed another bottle of water. “I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said softly.

“No, you need to know so you’ll understand why I am the way I am.” She opened the water and drank half of it, her mouth had suddenly turned dry. “We had a nice house, two cars, everyone seemed happy. James worked nights at different clubs, didn’t get home until 4 or 5 in the morning and then slept until the middle of the afternoon. Mom worked at an insurance agency, she had to in order to pay the bills.

“There was a fire at the school one day, they sent us all home. I tried to call my mom but she was out of the office, so I left a message. I got tired of waiting for her to come get me so I walked home, I knew James was home so I didn’t think my mom would mind.”

“How old were you?” Howie asked.

“Twelve, we’d been in California for six years at that point.” She started pacing again. “I walked into the house, being careful to be really quiet because James hated to be woken up. I heard James’ voice and that of a woman. I thought that maybe my mom was there, although I hadn’t seen her car in the driveway. When I came around the corner to their bedroom, I realized it wasn’t my mother.”

“He was in bed with another woman?” Howie asked gently.

“Yes.” She shuddered in revulsion at the memory. “I snuck back out, they hadn’t heard me. I ran next door to Matt’s, I was crying so hard that his mom thought something was wrong with me. She had just got me calmed down when we heard a car door slam outside.”

“Your mother had come home.”

Lyric nodded. “I ran out there to stop her before she went in the house, but it was too late. I crept in behind her, I didn’t want them to know I was there.” Lyric stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I could hear her calling my name as she looked around the house for me. Then it got quiet – I think my mom was in shock over what she found…and then all hell broke loose. Mama, she was a southern lady to the core. She never raised her voice to another person ever – until that day.”

“And you saw it all?”

“I ran into the room, tried to pull Mama out but she wouldn’t budge. James was standing there with the sheet wrapped around him, the woman had pulled a dress on. Mama was so angry! She ran at him, screaming. Next thing I knew, she was flying across the room – James had backhanded her across the face.”

“Oh sweetheart, how horrible!”

“Mama never had a chance – she was barely five feet tall and James was over six feet, he had the biggest hands I’ve ever seen. I completely lost it at that point – I jumped on him and started beating him with my little fists, like it would do any good. I was screaming at him not to hurt her anymore. He pulled me off with one hand and held me in front of him, like I weighed nothing. I’ll never forget the look of contempt on his face.” Lyric closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “I should’ve killed you both when I had the chance, he said. I was gonna leave ya’ll in the woods to die the night you were born, but that damn doctor had to show up. I never wanted either of you.”

“Oh god! He was going to kill you both?” Howie was shocked at the revelation.

Lyric nodded. “He said he was going to tell the preacher that Mama had decided to go home and no one would ever be the wiser. When that plan didn’t work out, he decided just to leave us in New Orleans instead. With no means of support and Mama so sick, he figured we would die anyway.”

“But he came back and got you…”

“Only because he had met a woman he wanted to marry, but he didn’t know if Mama was still alive. So he had to find her, and when he did he made up the story so she would go back to California with him. He threatened to take me away from her if she didn’t give him the divorce he wanted. But Mama wouldn’t, she didn’t believe in divorce – and knew that the courts wouldn’t give him full custody.”

“So your father kept the woman on the side, probably promising her that he would get the divorce and marry her.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Lyric said. “When Mama heard all of this, she went crazy. Even after everything that had happened, she still loved James. And he had lied to her for six years and told her he loved her too.”

“What did she do?” Howie asked, almost afraid to hear.

“She went after the other woman, tackled her and was trying to scratch her eyes out. James threw me across the room, I hit my head on the wall and blacked out. He picked up Mama and punched her in the face, knocking her unconscious. When we came to, James was gone. He’d packed up his clothes and left – we never saw him again.”

“I’m so sorry, Lyric. How did you and your mama deal with that?”

“We never talked about it again.”

”Never?” he asked softly.

“Nope. James was never mentioned in our house again, it was like he never existed.” She finished off the water bottle, suddenly thirsty. “Your parents had a great relationship. And your family, they all care about each other. Do you think there is something wrong in that?”

“No, I have plenty of role models when it comes to love. I just don’t know if I’m capable of it – because of how I acted before.”

“Before what?”

“You know, when we first got famous. I acted…well, I was really stupid when it came to women.” Howie looked out the window again, his face serious. “I was the short goofy kid in school, girls wouldn’t even look at me. And then suddenly I was famous – and girls were throwing themselves at me, begging me to have sex with them. I did what the other fellas were doing – meaningless one night stands with groupies. I knew it was wrong, knew my parents wouldn’t approve but I did it anyway.”

“Typical musician,” Lyric snorted, images of her father ran through her head. “You’re all alike.” She pushed past him, headed for her bunk.

“It’s not like that any more, Lyric. I’ve changed.”

“They all say that,” she called over her shoulder. She thought of Hilary and Orchid, tempted to throw that in his face but she resisted.

“Your father was old enough to know better, Lyric. I was just a kid.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Yes, he was old enough to know better. He was old enough to know that he’d broken my mother’s heart as well as mine - but that didn’t stop him from rutting with every whore he could find.”

The tears were running down her face, she couldn’t stop them. Howie gently pulled her into his arms and held her tightly until the crying eased.

“I’m so sorry he hurt you, Lyric. But not all musicians are bastards.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But what about you? You just admitted to being the same way.”

“And I regret it very much. I’ve promised myself that I’ll never use a woman like that again, Lyric.” He swallowed hard, it had been a tough promise to keep. “But I won’t sleep with a woman unless I know I love her,” he thought to himself.

The bus lurched suddenly, throwing them against the bedroom door. It popped open and they tumbled into the room. Lyric landed on the bed, Howie on top of her.

His face was mere inches away, she could feel his breath on her cheek as his fingers smoothed the hair away from her eyes. Howie’s lips gently touched hers in a butterfly kiss, then came back for more. Lyric resisted for a moment, but gave in and kissed him back. She’d yearned for the taste of him since their last kiss, the touch of his hands on her skin.

After a long moment, he released her mouth. They both were breathless, Lyric’s heart was pounding. She lost herself in his eyes, drowning in their chocolate depths.

Howie couldn’t pull his gaze away from her eyes either. Lyric didn’t shield herself from him like other women did, he could see into her very soul. And what he saw there saddened him, all the pain and suffering and longing for love were there on display.

He wished he could wipe it all away. He wanted to love her, to have her love him too but he knew it was impossible, knew it was all his fault that they could never be together.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he mumbled. He climbed off of her, pulled her to her feet and gently pushed her out the door, closing it with a soft click.

Lyric climbed into her bunk and pulled the curtains shut. Emotions jumbled within her – desire, sadness, and longing. Her lips tingled, she could still taste him, smell him – and it made her want him all the more. She couldn’t understand why he kept rejecting her when he obviously wanted her.

Howie sat on the end of his bed, his head in his hands. “Why did I do that?” he asked himself over and over. He knew it was wrong, on so many levels, but that still didn’t keep him from wanting to do it again.

Howie pulled a flask of scotch from the dresser and drank directly from it, not even bothering to get a glass. He’d been trying to cut back, but he felt the need for it more and more lately. He undressed and climbed into bed, his body and mind finally relented and allowed him to sleep.

As he drifted off, he thought of Lyric’s lips and the taste of her. And he wondered at the feeling in his heart, the warmth that built there when he thought of her. No such feelings were there when he thought of his women back home though.

“What are you looking at?” Howie growled.

“You. Wondering what the hell you’re doing.”

“None of your damn business,” he said, turning away from her. They were backstage, just an hour or so before show time.

“You are my damn business, Howie, and you know it. That’s what you pay me for, isn’t it?” Lyric was tired of hounding him about his drinking, but she was afraid not to.

“I don’t pay you to mother me. Just leave me alone, I know what I’m doing.” He drained the glass and poured himself another shot from the bottle.

Lyric sighed, it had been like this for several months now. At first it had been a drink in the evening to wind down, then a drink in the morning to get going as well. Now it was several drinks to prepare for a show – and several more afterwards.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? You don’t want your fans to think you’re drunk on stage. That would ruin your goody two shoes reputation.”

“I’ve had enough from you, bitch!” He stood up and glared at her. They were the only ones in the room, the others were wandering around backstage somewhere.

“And you’ve had enough from that bottle.” Lyric tried to keep her voice down, she didn’t want to get into a shouting match with him.

“I know when I’ve had enough.” Howie picked up the bottle and drank directly from it. Defiance shone in his eyes, he wasn’t going to let his employee dictate his actions.

“I don’t think you do, Howie. Otherwise you wouldn’t be drinking right before a show, for god’s sake.” She was leaning against the wall, trying to appear casual but inside she was anxious, Howie was unpredictable when he’d been drinking. “Give me the bottle, please?”

“I’ll give you the damn bottle!” he yelled, then heaved it at her head. Lyric shrieked and flinched away, the bottle smashed into the wall just inches from her face. Howie stalked out of the room, muttering obscenities.

“What the hell is going on?” Nick said, running into the room, a sandwich in his hand. Alex was right behind him.

“Oh my god! Are you ok, Lyric?” Alex asked, running over to her.

Lyric was shaking, in shock over the near miss. She was covered in glass, her shirt soaked with Jack Daniels. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Several shards of glass were embedded in her cheek, one large piece was perilously close to her eye.

“Go find a paramedic, Nick,” Alex ordered, then led Lyric to a nearby chair. “What happened?” He took her hand, trying to calm her.

“He threw a bottle at me,” she finally managed to get out. “I was trying to get him to stop drinking…”

Alex looked around to make sure they were alone. “He’s getting worse, isn’t he?”

Lyric nodded. “I’m trying, Alex, but he won’t listen to me.”

“He won’t listen to anyone, no matter how good their intentions. I should know,” he said with a sad smile. “He’ll have to want to change. All you can do is try to keep him safe until he gets to that point.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Lyric admitted. “He’s been hanging out with his pretend friends more and more, ignoring his real friends.”

“Keep trying, Lyric, don’t abandon him,” Alex whispered as Nick returned with help.

The paramedic knelt next to Lyric and examined her face, removing the shards carefully from her face and scalp. He put a small bandage on her cheek, one cut was deep but not enough to require stitches.

“There you go, good as new,” he said, packing up his equipment.

“Thank you,” Lyric said in a shaky voice.

Alex led her to the small bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly. “I think I have an extra shirt around here somewhere you can wear.”

Gently he helped her remove her shirt, then leaned her over the sink and rinsed the alcohol from her hair. He could feel the tremors that still shot through her.

Afterwards, she sat by herself and combed out her hair. Everyone was being especially nice to her, bringing her something to eat and drink, asking how she felt.

“I want to go back to the hotel,” she said to Brian when he came to sit next to her. “I don’t think I can stay for the show,” she whispered.

“I don’t blame you,” he said, patting her hand. “I’ll get someone to take you back, ok?”

A few minutes later, Leighanne and Baylee appeared in the doorway. Brian explained the situation to her in a low voice and asked if she’d stay with Lyric at the hotel.

“Of course I will. She loves Baylee, maybe she’ll play with him and forget what happened. Where’s Howie?”

“I don’t know, no one’s seen him since. I sent Q out looking for him, I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.”

“She’s better off not seeing him again until she’s calmed down anyway.” Leighanne took Lyric’s hand and led her away, Baylee chattering the whole time, unaware of the tense atmosphere in the dressing room.

When Q returned with Howie in tow, no one said a word to him. A big confrontation right before they went on stage was the last thing they wanted or needed. Alex just prayed that Howie would make it through the show without embarrassing them all. It was a situation he was very familiar with, unfortunately.

After the concert, Howie stood outside Lyric’s hotel room door and knocked, calling out her name when she didn’t respond.

Howie turned when the door across the hallway opened. “Do you know where Lyric is? I didn’t see her during the show and she wasn’t waiting for me on the bus either.”

“She’s gone,” Leighanne said.

“Gone where?” Howie asked, puzzled.

Leighanne looked behind her, making sure Baylee was asleep, then gently closed the door. “She took the redeye back to LA.”

“Why would she go back to LA?”

Leighanne sighed. “Are you that stupid, Howie? You tried to hit her in the face with a whiskey bottle and you think she’s gonna stick around to see what’s next?”

“Whiskey bottle?” Howie faintly remembered arguing with her before the show.

Hearing voices in the hallway, Alex opened his door and looked out.

“What is Leighanne talking about?” Howie asked him. “Did something happen before the concert?”

“Dude, you threw a half full bottle of Jack at Lyric. Thank god you missed her.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Howie insisted.

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” Alex asked softly.

“I’d remember that,” he said. “I think ya’ll are lying.”

Alex pulled out his cell phone. “Pictures don’t lie.” He handed the phone to Howie, who scrolled through several photos of Lyric’s cuts and the broken glass on the dressing room floor.

Without a word, Howie handed the phone back and went into his room.

“Do you think he realizes what is going on?” Leighanne asked Alex.

“No, not yet. He’s still in denial.”

“He’s been through a lot lately,” Leighanne said. “It would be enough to send anyone over the edge.”

“True. But he’s not handling it very well. Thank God Lyric is looking after him. Without her, he’d been in even worse shape.”

“Do you think she’ll quit after this?” Leighanne hoped not, she liked the woman and thought she deserved better treatment.

“No, I don’t think so.” He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “She loves him.”

“And does he love her?”

“Howie only loves the bottle right now.” Alex wished her a good night and went back into his room.

************

“I’m sorry Lyric.” Howie texted Lyric the next morning, but she didn’t reply. “Are you ignoring me or still asleep?” he texted an hour later after a dozen messages were sent but without a response.

“Ignoring you,” was her curt reply.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Apology not accepted,” she wrote back.

“What would it take to get you to forgive me?” he asked.

“Quit drinking,” she shot back.

“I don’t have a problem with alcohol.” Howie was starting to feel angry.

“The hell you don’t.”

“I don’t. Alex has been nagging me too.”

“Everyone else sees what you can’t. We’ll help, you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I DON’T HAVE A FUCKING DRINKING PROBLEM,” Howie replied, typing all in caps – the texting equivalent of shouting.

Lyric felt insulted by the text message. She didn’t have the energy to deal with Howie and his issues for the remaining three months of the tour. “Enjoy the rest of the tour. I’ll take care of things at this end.”

“Screw you, Lyric,” he said, wanting to throw the phone across the room but thinking better of it. He went to the mini-bar and pulled out a small bottle of Jack Daniels and a bottle of Coke. He dumped some of the soda out and poured the alcohol into the bottle.

Howie grabbed his luggage and headed down to the bus. It was late by their usual departure standards, nearly 10 am, but no one seemed to be in a good mood. He’d skipped breakfast to sleep an extra hour.

Brian was the only one who approached him as they loaded the buses. “How you doing this morning?” he asked.

“Fine,” Howie growled.

“About last night…” Brian started but Howie cut him off.

“It’s my own damn business,” he said curtly.

“No, it’s all of our damn business,” Brian said, grabbing Howie’s shoulder. “We’re all in this together and you put us in a bad situation when you drink like that before a show. So if you don’t cut back, we’ll go to management with the issue.”

“You’ve all decided?”

“Yes, we talked about it this morning at breakfast – a meeting you were supposed to be at,” Brian reminded him.

“Ya’ll can go to hell,” Howie said, turning away and boarding his bus.

“Well, that went well,” he said to Leighanne as he jumped on his own bus. “I’ve given him the warning, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens now.”

Howie watched the scenery flash past the bus windows, but he didn’t really see anything at all. He was too preoccupied thinking about the events of the previous night. It pained him to think that he had almost hurt Lyric, but what was worse is that he didn’t remember any of it – not even the concert.

He didn’t know how he would make it through the rest of the tour without Lyric. She kept him company on the bus, made sure he ate right, made sure he had everything he needed.

“God, I’m so stupid,” he groaned. He vowed to cut back on the drinking, at least right before a show. Between shows he needed something to ease the pain in his heart.

***********
“Lyric? It’s Alex. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. How are you doing? How’s the tour going?”

“Tour’s fine. But your boss, he’s not doing so well.”

Lyric’s heart skipped a beat. “He’s not hurt, is he? Or sick?”

“No, not hurt – just out of control.”

Lyric sighed, she was afraid of that. The phone calls and text messages she’d been getting from him lately had steadily made less and less sense. His pretend friends had joined him on tour, riding on the bus with him and partying until the wee hours of the night.

“What do you expect me to do, Alex? He won’t listen to me any more than he listens to ya’ll.”

“There’s just six weeks left on tour, and I don’t know if he’s gonna make it. We need you to try to calm him down, at least until the end of the tour.”

“What about his family? Can’t they do anything?”

“He threatened to walk out if we called them,” Alex said. “Please, Lyric, you’re our last hope. Management has given him an ultimatum and he just blows them off too. His career - all of our careers - are at stake right now.”

Lyric could hear the desperation in his voice. “Ok, I’ll try. But if anything happens…”

“If he touches you, Lyric, I swear I’ll beat him bloody.”

Lyric caught up with the tour in Toronto. There wouldn’t be a hotel stay this evening, they were due in the next city in only a few hours.

Howie and his pretend friends staggered out the back door of the venue. All of them were obviously already inebriated, Hilary was hanging onto Orchid for support. They were surprised to see Lyric standing on the bottom stair of the tour bus.

“Get on, Howie.” She stepped aside to let him board but then blocked the entrance. Hilary tried to shove her aside, nearly falling over in the process. Lyric grabbed her arm to keep her from falling.

“Let me on the damn bus!” Hilary hissed. “I’m his girlfriend, he promised we’re going to make love all night on the bus,” she bragged.

Lyric leaned in close so that only Hilary could hear her reply. “You gonna let Howie watch tonight, whore?” Hilary jerked back in surprise. “Oh, I know all about you and your slut girlfriend Orchid. If you don’t want the rest of the world to know, I had better not see you ever again.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Hilary said, eyes narrowing.

“Try me, bitch. Do you want to risk your career? It’s the only way you know how make a living because you aren’t smart enough to do anything else but open your legs.” Lyric felt empowered, she’d always wanted to tell Hilary off. “Is Howie worth losing all that money? Coz I’ll do it in a heartbeat to protect him.”

Eric shoved his way between the women. “Enough talk, bitch. Get the hell out of the way.”

“I’m calling the shots now and you can all find another ride out of town.”

“Like hell you will,” he replied, grabbing her wrist. The next instant he was on the ground, twitching.

“Aren’t stun guns a wonderful thing?” she said, holding the small instrument up for the rest of them to see. “Any one else care to try to get on board?” They all backed away slowly, disbelief on their faces.

“You’re one crazy bitch,” Hilary said.

“I’m here to make sure my boss doesn’t lose his job. If he gets fired, the gravy train stops for you assholes, doesn’t it? So it’s in your best interest to leave him alone.”

She climbed to the top step, her hand on the button to close the bus door. “And security has been instructed that none of you are welcome on tour any longer – backstage, in the hotel, or on the bus. So get lost.”

Lyric closed the door and turned to face Howie, who’d been standing behind her, watching the entire encounter.

“You didn’t have to do that to him, you know.”

“Yes, I did, Howie. He weighs probably a hundred pounds more than me, he’s a foot taller than me – how was I going to stop him?”

“All you had to do was say please.”

Lyric laughed. “Men like that only understand one thing – a demonstration of power.” She pushed past him and laid the weapon on her bunk.

“You going to use that on me?” He looked a little dubious.

“Throw another bottle at me and find out,” she said. Howie didn’t like the angry look on Lyric’s face. “I suggest you try to get some sleep tonight. You have press interviews in about 7 hours.”

Without another word, Howie went to his room and closed the door. Her phone beeped softly, a new text message had come in.

“Impressive performance, way to kick some ass,” it read.

“Easy to be brave when you have that many volts in your hand,” she replied to Alex.

“Come over here and hold that many volts in your hand again,” he teased via text message.

“You’re one sick puppy,” she joked back. “And your lightning rod isn’t that impressive.” Lyric looked out the window, she could see Alex in the window, laughing. She blew him a kiss and then pulled the curtains closed.

As she climbed into bed, the driver fired up the diesel engine and the bus pulled out of the venue’s parking area. Lyric didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she was ready to face it head on.

Lyric yawned and rolled over, hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock. She hated these 3 am wake up calls, but at least she’d been able to sleep in a real bed. The bunk on the bus just wasn’t the same as a semi-comfortable hotel bed.

Thirty minutes later she was dressed and packed. She stopped at Howie’s room, for once he was up and nearly ready to leave. She rolled both of their suitcases down to the lobby and out to the bus, where the driver stowed them away. He went inside to get some coffee. Lyric glanced at her watch, it was time to go drag Howie out of his room.

As she stepped off the bus, hands grabbed her. She started to scream, but a large hand covered her mouth. Within seconds, her attackers had carried her around the corner of the hotel, away from the main parking lot.

“Well, well, lookie who we got,” a male voice drawled. Lyric was startled to see three of Howie’s pretend friends – the same ones she’d kicked off the tour several weeks earlier.

“Not so sure of yourself without your little toy, are you?” Eric said.

Lyric knew she was in deep trouble, these men were all much larger and stronger. At this time of the morning there would be no one around to save her, even if she could scream.

“Let’s just do it and get out of here,” Mike said, looking around nervously.

“I want to have some fun with her first,” Eric said. He was the one she’d used the stun gun on. His eyes roamed up and down her body. “She’s scrawny, but I bet she’ll put up a fight. I like a woman who doesn’t just lay there.”

“We don’t have time, Eric, the driver will be back in a few minutes.”

“Ok, give me her arm then.” He pulled out a syringe and Lyric panicked, trying desperately to escape.

“Quit squirming, bitch,” Jimmy said, increasing the pressure on her throat. Lyric’s vision began to darken so she quit struggling.

Eric approached her, pulling a plastic strap tourniquet from his pocket. “This won’t hurt a bit,” he said soothingly.

“But this will,” Lyric thought to herself as she kicked him in the groin, landing a solid hit to his balls.

“Jesus Christ, Jimmy! Can’t you hold her still?” Mike said, looking at his pal doubled over in pain.

“I’m gonna kill you this time, you fucking whore,” he whispered when he was finally able to stand again. “Hold her legs, Mike.” He grabbed her arm and wrapped the strapping around it, popping up the veins in her arm.

“You can’t kill her, dude. I’m not going to prison over Howie’s little whore,” Jimmy hissed in the darkness. Mike agreed, insisting that Eric not give her a lethal dose.

“Ok, but I’m gonna give her enough to make her so sick she’ll never cross us again.” He jammed the needle in her arm and depressed the plunger, shooting the drug straight into her vein.

Lyric tried to scream, but Jimmy held her firmly until Eric finished the deed. He tightened his hold until she passed out.

“Come on, let’s get her back on the bus.” They carried her limp body back to the bus and laid her in her bunk, then pulled the curtains closed.

Howie waited for Lyric to come back and drag him to the bus, as she did nearly every morning. It was a game they both enjoyed. But when she didn’t return, he left the room and checked himself out of the hotel.

He ran into his driver in the lobby. “Have you seen Lyric?”

“Think she’s on the bus already,” he said.

Howie climbed aboard, noticed that her purse lay on the table and that her curtains were closed so he went back into his room and laid down, intending on catching a few more hours of shut eye.

The gentle rocking of the bus on the highway lulled him into a deep sleep, and soon he was snoring away. In his dreams, he heard a strange sound – like that of a wounded animal whimpering in pain. It grew louder, until the whimpers were shrieks. Howie sat straight up in bed, realizing the noise wasn’t a dream.

Howie opened his door, the sound was coming from the bunk area – from Lyric’s bunk right outside his door.

“Lyric, are you ok?” Howie asked, the noise suddenly stopped. He pulled back the curtains, Lyric was curled into a ball, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Must’ve been a bad dream.”

He went back to bed and had just fallen back to sleep when a loud noise woke him again. He could hear heavy footsteps, pacing back and forth up the aisle. When the noise continued for more than a minute, he climbed out of bed. Looking out the door, he saw Lyric walking from the front of the bus to the back, gesturing wildly with her arms and muttering. She seemed extremely agitated about something.

When she saw Howie, she sprinted for him – pushing him back into his room and slammed the door shut.

“There’s my baby...”

Lyric pulled his shirt off as she shoved him back on the bed. She then reached down and pulled her dress over her head, standing there in only her underwear.

“Lyric? What’s going on?” Howie didn’t like the wild look in her eyes.

She jumped on top of him, grinding herself into him. “Make love to me, Howie. I want you to take me now! Take me hard!” She snaked her hand down into his shorts, grabbing him none too gently.

“Lyric!” He managed to push her off and scoot away, standing in the small space between the wall and the bed.

She unhooked her bra and flung it on the floor, then crawled over to him. Howie had a hard time taking his eyes from her breasts, they were much larger than he imagined they would be.

“Aw, come on, baby. You know you want me.” She pinned him to the wall, capturing his mouth in a ferocious kiss. Howie felt himself responding, despite the weirdness of the situation.

Without conscious thought, his hands roamed down her back to her rounded backside, the mounds fitting perfectly into his hands. Her skin was hot to the touch.

She released his mouth, pressing kisses down his neck to his shoulder. “I’m a she wolf, baby, and I’m gonna get my prey.” Lyric suddenly bit him hard and Howie shoved her back onto the bed.

“Are you crazy? What’s wrong with you?”

Lyric suddenly curled up into a ball again and began crying softly. “He’s gonna get me,” she whimpered. “No, Eric! Not a needle, I hate needles. Oh god, leave me alone!”

“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up!” He shook her, gently at first, and then more firmly. Lyric’s eyes flew open, but she wouldn’t respond to him. She just stared into space, eyes unblinking.

“Lyric? Can you hear me?” She didn’t respond. Howie noticed that her skin was flushed and hot to the touch. He felt for a pulse in her neck, her heart was beating incredibly fast.

He ran up to the front of the bus. “Warren, where’s Alex’s bus? Is it far away?”

The driver picked up his cell phone and made a quick call. “He’s about two miles ahead, why?”

“I need to get Alex on this bus, as soon as possible. Can we do that?”

“Sure. Is there a problem?”

“I don’t know. But you might try to locate a hospital, just in case.”

Within five minutes, Alex was climbing on board Howie’s bus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “This better be important, dude. I was having the best dream.”

Howie turned to the bus driver. “Did you find a hospital, Warren?”

“GPS says there’s nothing around for another two hours. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, I’m sorry.”

“Ok, thanks for checking.” Howie pulled Alex to the back of the bus.

“Why do we need a hospital? Are you sick?”

“No, not me, it’s Lyric. Something’s wrong with her.”

Lyric was still laying in the middle of Howie’s bed, talking. “I love butterflies, don’t you? There’s so many of them!” Her eyes were open, but not focused on anything. “Oh, so pretty!”

“She’s hallucinating, Howie.” He sat down next to her. “And why is she nearly naked?”

Howie described the morning’s events to his band mate. He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “I got worried when I touched her – her skin is really hot and her heart’s beating much faster than normal.”

Alex placed his fingers on her wrist and took her pulse. “Lyric, can you hear me, darling?” She didn’t even look at him, just kept talking about the pretty butterflies. He snapped his fingers in front of her face, then gently slapped her cheeks – she didn’t even flinch.

“She’s on something, Howie. Probably cocaine or maybe a cocaine/heroin mixture. I’ve seen people act like this – hallucinations, fast heartbeat, hyperthermia.”

“What can we do for her? Is she gonna OD?” Howie tried to fight down the panic. “Warren said there isn’t a hospital anywhere close to here.”

“If it was a fatal dose she’d be dead already.” He picked up one arm and examined it, then the other. “Look, here’s a bruise from the injection.”

“She doesn’t take drugs, Alex, you know that.”

“She doesn’t have any other track marks, this was obviously the first time. How did she get this way?”

“Beats me,” Howie said, shrugging. “I saw her this morning around 3:30 and she was fine. We got on the bus around 4 and then she wakes me up around 4:30.”

Alex looked at his watch, it was close to 5 am. A trip this bad could last for hours, and the worst was probably yet to come, by the looks of her. He checked her pulse again, still very fast. “Do you have a valium?” he asked.

Howie hesitated, then said that he did. He left the room and came back with one in his hand. Alex didn’t question him, but filed it away to ask him about later.

“We need to cool her off too, can you get some wet towels and ice…and a bottle of water.”

As Howie went off, Alex looked more closely at Lyric. There were no other track marks anywhere on her body, nothing to indicate that she was a habitual user. But something else got his attention.

“Howie, look at this.” He pointed to her upper arms.

“What are those, bruises?” He leaned in closer to get a good look.

“On her arms and on her throat – like maybe someone was holding her tightly.” Alex propped her up. “Here, help me get her to swallow this pill.”

Howie leaned her head back, opened her mouth and dropped the pill into her throat. He then drizzled a little water in, trying not to make her choke. “She won’t swallow,” he said.

“Stroke her throat or blow into her face,” Alex said. “It works with my dogs.” And it worked with Lyric too, she finally swallowed the pill.

Alex laid her back on the bed, then covered her with the wet towels and scattered ice cubes over the towels. “We don’t want her to get too chilled, just enough to get her body temperature down.”

“How do you know what to do?” Howie asked.

“I watched a man OD once on this crap – they tried to save him by doing this.”

“Did he live?”

“No, but he was far worse off than Lyric is. Whoever did this to her didn’t want her to die, just give her a very bad trip.”

“Why would anyone do this?” Howie asked. “It had to have happened at the hotel.”

Alex pulled out his phone and sent a text message. A few moments later, he got one in return.

“Marcus is calling the hotel to see if they have surveillance cameras for the parking lots. He’s pretty upset over this. I’m sure he’ll report it to the police there.”

“I hope so, they need to catch the bastards that did this.” Howie looked down at Lyric, her muscles were beginning to twitch. “Is this normal?”

“Yes, it’s gonna get worse before it gets better, I’m afraid.” He took several towels to the bathroom to rinse them in cool water. When he came back in, Howie was looking down at Lyric, holding her hand, looking very worried. “Do you care about her, D?”

“Yes, of course. She’s my employee, and a good friend.”

“No, I mean, do you care about her?”

Howie hesitated before answering. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“She cares about you, a lot.” He placed the cool towels back on her body. Lyric was moaning, rocking back and forth. “It’s killing her, watching you self destruct.”

“I’m not…”

“I don’t want to hear that shit, Howie. You are an alcoholic and you need help. Lyric’s the only thing between you and the damn gutter.”

“I can handle it, Alex. I’m not drinking any more.”

“Only because of Lyric. She calls ahead to the hotels and has them remove the alcohol from your room – and she won’t let us have alcohol backstage anymore.” Alex checked her pulse, it was finally slowing down a little.

“She won’t let me go down to the bar either. Or have alcohol on the bus.”

“I think she’d trying pretty damn hard to keep you sober. And what does she get for it? I’ve seen her backstage crying because you’ve yelled at her over something stupid, all because you can’t have a drink.”

“I know, I’m a total jerk,” he said, getting up to pace across the tiny room.

Lyric suddenly sat up and started screaming, pulling at her hair. Howie jumped to her side and held her, trying to keep her from harming herself.

The next three hours were pure torture for both men. Lyric alternated between hallucinations and severe muscle tremors, crying in fear or hitting out at imaginary foes. They struggled to keep her body temperature down, to keep her heart rate and blood pressure from sky rocketing as her body fought against the drugs in her system.

“Howie? What’s happening to me?” Lyric sounded like a little girl, scared and lost. Howie and Alex sat on either side, looking worried and tired.

“Are you ok?” Howie asked. “How do you feel?”

“Nauseated, dizzy. I can’t stop shaking. What’s happening?”

“Do you remember anything from this morning?” Alex asked. “After you left your room at the hotel?”

“I went down to the bus with the luggage, then I went back to get Howie’s lazy butt out of his room. But that’s the last I remember.”

“Damn,” Alex said.

“Could I have some water? I’m so thirsty.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Howie jumped up and ran to the front of the bus.

“What happened, Alex? Why do you two look so worried?”

“You almost OD’d on cocaine and heroin.”

“What? I’ve never done drugs in my entire life!” Lyric struggled to sit up, Alex propped some pillows behind her back. She sipped at the water.

“You have a needle mark in your arm, Lyric.” Alex showed her the little bruise on her right arm.

“I couldn’t have done that, Alex. I’m right handed.”

Alex agreed. “A right handed person would usually inject into the left arm. Are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

“I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t - I had some really bizarre dreams. They were so frightening!”

“I bet, you had a very bad trip. Someone wanted you to suffer.” Alex smoothed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Why would anyone want to hurt me?” she asked. “I don’t have any enemies, that I know of.”

Alex’s phone rang, he left the room to answer the call. When he returned, his face was grim. “That was Marcus. The hotel surveillance cameras caught the whole incident – but they can’t see the faces well enough to identify the men.”

“Damn!” Howie muttered.

“They have video of the car driving off – the police are trying to see the license plate. ”

Lyric interrupted, her voice quiet. “I had a dream about three men grabbing me, one had his arm around my throat. I kicked one of them, right in the groin, he was so angry he wanted to kill me.”

Howie looked over at Alex, who nodded. “Did you see who it was, sweetheart?”

She started to tremble, Howie worried the tremors were starting again. He reached out to touch her face, but it was cool to the touch.

“He had a needle, he was going to stick it in me!” Howie could see the fear and panic in her eyes. “You won’t let Eric get me, will you?”

“Of course not,” Alex said soothingly. Lyric had a death grip on his hand, he could feel her trembling violently. “Swallow this, Lyric, and you’ll feel better really soon, ok?” He handed her half of a valium, which she washed down with the water.

“Thank you,” she said, looking at both of them. “You both saved me. I won’t forget it.” She closed her eyes, Alex eased her back on the bed. Before long, her breathing was slow and regular, indicating she was asleep.

“Is it ok to leave her?” Howie asked as Alex pulled him from the room.

“We’ll be right here. I don’t want to talk in front of her, even if she is asleep.” He left the bedroom door open and they sat down in the chairs closest to the back of the bus.

“Her ‘dream’ matched the video exactly, D. They pulled her from the bus, one man had his arm around her throat. Another man approached her and she kicked him in the balls. In the video, you can’t see what they are doing to her, but a moment later she goes limp and they carry her back to the bus.”

“Do you really think it was Eric who did this?” Howie asked.

“Is he capable of it? He was pretty pissed after Lyric used that stun gun on him.”

“No, he’d never hurt anyone. He’s harmless.”

Alex wasn’t so sure about that. “Does he have access to cocaine and heroin?” He glared at Howie, daring him to lie to him.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever used them?” Howie wouldn’t meet Alex’s eyes. “The truth, Howie.”

“Yes! I’ve used cocaine, a couple of times.” He got up and started pacing. “Eric usually gives me other things, some pills, I don’t even know what they are. All I know is that they make me forget.”

“Forget what?” Alex said softly.

“Who I am, what I am – what I’ve been through.” He looked outside, the sun was rising over the top of the trees. “I forget all my pain, I just…exist.”

“Does Eric sell those drugs?”

Howie shook his head. “He gives it away to his friends.”

“In exchange for what?”

“What do you mean?” Howie looked puzzled.

“A man doesn’t just give away drugs, Howie. He wants something in return, what do you give him?”

“I don’t give him anything. He just hangs out at my house, we go partying together.”

“Ah, that’s it then. He gets to be a celebrity – sit in the VIP rooms in all the best clubs, drink expensive alcohol that you buy. Am I right?”

The truth hit Howie hard, he nodded miserably. “He gets to be my friend in return for supplying me with drugs. He sleeps with hot women, meets other celebrities, makes more new friends.”

“And when he’s got all he can from you, he dumps you and moves on to the next celebrity.” Alex had seen it all before, experienced it himself in fact. He’d learned the hard way to keep only true friends by his side – the false ones often led you the wrong way.

“I’m an idiot, Alex.”

“No, just naïve…and in pain. But alcohol and drugs aren’t the answer.”

Later that day, when they reached their destination, Marcus took Lyric to a doctor. Blood work confirmed that she had been injected with cocaine and heroin, however testing revealed that she had no permanent damage to her organs.

After realizing what could’ve happened to her, Lyric felt lucky to be alive. And she vowed to be more vigilant about her safety.

The rest of the tour passed without incident. Howie curtailed his drinking voluntarily, still in shock over Lyric’s close call. And by the realization that it was his fault that Lyric had nearly died.

Lyric watched her boss enter the room, he staggered a little and bumped into a chair. She sighed, knowing he was either drunk or high – or both. They’d been together all day, she didn’t know when he’d slipped away in order to take the drugs – he knew better than to take anything in front of her.

Howie had managed to stay sober through the end of the tour, but once back at home the temptations had been too much for him. Lyric had done her best to keep him out of trouble, but it wasn’t enough. She hated watching him spiral out of control yet again, helpless to do anything to stop him.

“Anything else you need from me tonight?” she asked, hopeful that she’d be able to get home at a decent time. She glanced at the clock, it was nearly 10 pm. There were things she needed to do at her own home, which she rarely saw for any length of time when Howie was in town.

Howie dropped into a chair, stretching out his legs to the leather ottoman. “Would you mind going to get me something to eat? I’m starving.” They’d spent the day running errands and catching up on business correspondence, neither had eaten since noon in the rush to get things done on a rare full day at home.

“No problem. What would you like?”

“Chinese sounds good. You know, that stuff I always get.” He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. She knew he must be exhausted, he’d arrived back in town only the night before. The group was already recording the next album, they’d just spent three weeks recording in Sweden. And he was due to leave in two days for New York City, an important meeting with the big brass at the record label.

Lyric speed dialed Hong Kong Express, she’d memorized all his favorite meals at the local restaurants. Although she did cook for him on occasion, tonight she was too tired to make him anything.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, touching his shoulder to make sure he was still awake. He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot, the pupils dilated.

“Don’t forget the fried noodles,” he said, slurring his words.

“Damn,” she thought to herself. Howie didn’t believe he had a problem, didn’t believe that his life was out of control. She knew he wouldn’t ask for help until something convinced him.

When she returned, he was flipping channels on the television like a mad man, clicking through without even stopping to see what was on. A highball glass, filled with a golden liquid, was clenched in his left hand. All the lights were out except for the small light over the kitchen table.

“Whatcha watching?” she called from the kitchen as she plated their food. She knew Howie didn’t like to eat from the containers when he was home.

“Nothing good on,” he muttered. He switched it off and walked unsteadily into the kitchen, sliding into a chair. Taking a huge gulp from his glass, he mumbled ‘thanks’ as she laid the plate in front of him. “Get me that letter, you know the one that came today…”

“From your attorney…?” she prompted.

He nodded. “We need to send an answer back to him tonight.”

Lyric sighed, there went her easy escape. She hoped he’d be able to dictate a response quickly, then maybe she could leave. She ran to his office, found the letter and brought it brought it back to him. She grabbed a notepad and a pen and leaned against the kitchen island.

Howie scanned the letter, reading it over several times as he ate. The fork stopped halfway to his mouth, he lowered it and stared at it, moving the fork this way and that as he examined it. He finally put the food in his mouth, and then spit it back on the plate.

“What the hell is this crap?” he shouted, jumping to his feet.

“Kung Pao chicken and fried rice, just like you always get,” Lyric said, backing away. Howie had ordered the same thing for the last two years.

“I never get that!” he yelled. “I hate Kung Pao chicken and I hate fried rice! I always get steamed rice, you stupid bitch!” Howie picked up the plate and threw it her. The food splattered her dress, leaving a greasy stain on the dark blue silk. The plate shattered on the tile floor.

“I’ll go get you something else,” she said, her voice trembling. Howie had been unpredictable ever since they came off tour six months ago, his normally sweet nature had turned ugly and sullen. She knew it was the drugs, but that didn’t make dealing with him any easier.

“I’ll go get it myself,” he said, pushing past her.

“You aren’t in any condition to drive,” she said, grabbing the keys from his hand.

“Fuck you! Give me my car keys!”

“I’ll…I’ll drive you, ok? We’ll go down to the restaurant and I’ll tell them I messed up your order and we’ll get what you want, ok, Howie?” she pleaded. Panic filled her at the thought of him behind the wheel.

“No! I want my keys, I can drive myself to the damn restaurant.” He tried to wrench them from her hand.

“You’ve been drinking, Howie.” Lyric knew there was more than alcohol in his system, for him to drive would be more than dangerous, it could be fatal. “You’ve had too much to drink, it wouldn’t be a good idea to drive.”

“Who says I’ve had too much to drink? I just had a couple sips of scotch.”

Lyric tried to guide him back to the living room. “I’m your assistant, Howie. That’s why you hired me, to go get you things, right? You just relax and I’ll go get you something else to eat.”

“You’re my goddamn employee, and I don’t pay you to make judgments about my sobriety.” He pushed past her into the kitchen, digging in a drawer. “Ah, here they are – my spare keys.” With a triumphant laugh he headed for the garage.

“Wait! Howie, please…”

“I’m going to get something to eat, and you can’t stop me, so leave me alone!”

“What should I tell your mother at your funeral, Howie? That you were drunk and high? I’m sure she’d love to hear that.” It was a risky move on Lyric’s part, but she was desperate.

“You leave my mother out of it!” he yelled.

Lyric knew that none of his family had any idea of the severity of his drinking and drug problem. She’d been lying to them for a year to keep his secret. Not that she wanted to, but because he’d threatened her if she didn’t.

The look on his face scared the hell out of her, but she couldn’t back down and let him drive. Lyric knew his family depended on her to keep him safe and she was determined to do that, no matter the cost. She held her ground as he moved closer to her.

She reached out to him, touching his arm gently. “We’re all worried about you, Howie.” She thought she saw his face soften, thought he going to give in. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We’re afraid you’re gonna end up like Heath Ledger or Michael Jackson…”

Lyric didn’t see it coming, the fist that smashed into her face caught her completely by surprise. She tripped over the ottoman and fell backwards, hitting her head on the edge of the coffee table.

Howie looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers, then at the unconscious woman. Dark brunette hair fanned around her face, a stark contrast to the tan carpeting beneath her. Blood seeped slowly from a cut underneath her left eye.

She lay at an awkward angle, her dress pushed up to reveal black lace panties. He could see she was still breathing, her chest rose and fell beneath the silk. Her breasts fascinated him, for a petite woman she was well endowed. He grabbed the front of her dress, ripping it with one pull, the fragile fabric tearing easily.

“You’re finally mine now, Ricky. I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he whispered. The combination of drugs, alcohol and the sight of her nearly naked body pushed him into doing something unthinkable. His clothes landed on the floor with a soft thud.

He pulled her panties off and with a shaking hand, reached out and touched her, stroking her. When she didn’t respond to his touch, he became angry.

Lyric grunted, coming awake as Howie laid none too gently on top of her. Still stunned, her head and face aching, she barely realized what was happening.

“You’re one beautiful bitch,” he mumbled, pushing the dress away from her breasts. She tried to wiggle away from him but his weight held her down. “God, I want to fuck you.”

“Howie, no…” Desperation and fear gave her strength, she pushed him off and was able to scoot away a few feet. Her victory was short lived - he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back.

“Yes, Lyric. You’ve teased me for years – it’s time to pay up.” He captured her mouth in a bruising assault, shoving his knee between her thighs. He pinched her nipple hard, causing her to moan against his lips. She was breathless when he finally broke off the kiss.

“Not like this,” she pleaded with him. “Not like this, not now…”

Howie tried to enter her but she was dry, her muscles tightened against him. Using his fingers and spit to lubricate her, he shoved himself inside her, without thought to her pain. When she struggled to get away, he began to bite her shoulders and breasts.

Lyric whimpered with the pain. “Please, Howie, stop.”

“Shut up and be still, or I’ll punch you again,” he threatened.

She stopped struggling, resigned to the fact that Howie was bigger and stronger and could do what he wanted. Tears ran down her face to drip unheeded on the carpet.

“I love you, but not like this…” she whispered. “God, not like this.”

Howie was surprised to find resistance when he moved to enter her fully. “She’s a damn virgin. Eric was right!” he laughed and with one vicious thrust broke through her maidenhead. Lyric bit hard on her fist to keep from screaming.

Lyric thought back to the day she had first met Howie. The moment she first saw him, she was overwhelmed. He was handsome with an easy smile, big brown eyes and a personality so compelling that he seemed larger than life. Despite her mistrust of musicians, she’d accepted the job. Once she’d gotten lost in his eyes, she knew she had to be with him. That day seemed ages ago.

Lyric could feel him inside her, pounding her furiously as sweat beaded on his face. His eyes were now stone cold, those same amazingly warm brown eyes that she’d fallen in love with. Yes, she had wanted him to make love to her – but not like this.

There was chemistry between them, there was no denying that, but by unspoken agreement they had chosen to ignore it. She’d watched women come and go in his life, his hectic lifestyle made serious dating impossible. And he’d run off the few men that had shown any kind of interest in her.

Deep in her heart, she thought that maybe one day she could be more than his assistant. Foolishness, she knew, but as long as that tiny flame of hope still flickered inside her, she would stay by his side and protect him, despite the hell he was putting her through.

A loud groan pulled her from her reverie. Howie climaxed hard inside her, his body convulsing, eyes closed. Sweat slicked his body, their skin stuck together in places. After a minute, he pulled out and stood up, staring down at her. Without a word, he picked up his clothes and walked away.

Lyric laid there, waiting to see what would happen next. Humiliation and shame filled her. She wondered if she should get up and leave before he came back, afraid he would try for another round. But she hoped he would come back to her and apologize, so she just laid there, waiting, hoping for some sign from him that he was sorry.

She heard the shower running, then a little later the hum of the hair dryer. When he came back into the room, he was dressed to go out clubbing. He headed towards her, Lyric thought that maybe now he would express remorse. Instead, he picked up his car keys from the carpet where she had dropped them, then headed for the garage, slamming the door shut behind him.

She climbed unsteadily to her feet, her vision swimming. Lyric perched on the edge of the sofa, doubled over crying, she could no longer hold it in. She felt numb, shocked not only by Howie’s behavior but by his total disregard for her.

After a while, the tears slowed and then stopped altogether. Physically, she felt ill – but inside her a new resolve was beginning to form. Lyric stood, trembling, unsure of what to do next. She could call Alex, he’d know what to do – but she didn’t want him to see her this way.

No, she could handle this herself, she was strong. Hadn’t the last year taught her anything? She’d learned to be resourceful and cunning, quick witted enough to be able to handle any situation Howie threw at her.

In her temporary bedroom, Lyric found a pair of shorts and a shirt she used as pajamas. Ignoring the stickiness between her legs, she slipped out of the torn dress and pulled on the other clothes. She then took a few minutes to clean up the kitchen. In his inebriated state, she couldn’t risk Howie slipping on the spilled food and getting injured.

She then went to his room and pulled some clothes from his closet, folded them carefully and put them in a suitcase. Lyric rolled the suitcase to her SUV, glad for the darkness. Thankfully, Howie’s home sat back off the street, behind a gated entrance, so no one could see her.

The drive home seemed to take forever but Lyric needed the security of her own bed, although she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. There would be calls to place in the morning. One way or another, she was determined that Howie would get the help he so desperately needed.

******

Howie growled impatiently as he paced the kitchen floor. “Where the hell is she?” he muttered, checking his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. “She knows I have a meeting downtown that I can’t miss.” He was tired and hung over, he’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep before his alarm had awakened him.

Head aching fiercely, Howie resisted the urge to pour himself a glass of something alcoholic in nature. He’d also resisted the siren’s call of the capsules hidden in his bedroom - he needed a clear head for this meeting with the label executives.

His right hand was aching too, although he didn’t know why. His knuckles were skinned and bruised, something dark stained the ring he wore. It was his father’s ring, Hoke had given it to him not long before he died of cancer. It was a daily reminder of the man Howie admired above all else.

“It’s not like her to be late,” he said, checking his watch again. “Ah, finally,” he said as he heard her car drive up. When she came in the door, she was wearing oversized sunglasses and a long sleeved casual dress with a scarf wrapped around her neck.

“Traffic was bad,” she mumbled, laying her purse on the table, an envelope in her hand.

“About time,” he said, grabbing the briefcase from the chair. “What’s up with the disguise? You know we have a business meeting this morning, right? That’s a little inappropriate,” he indicated her casual knit dress. Howie liked seeing her wear sexy dresses to business meetings, liked the way the other men, and women too, looked at her with envious eyes.

“You’ll have to drive yourself,” she said, lifting her chin.

“Why? That’s why I have an assistant, so I don’t have to drive.” He grabbed her arm and turned her towards the door. Lyric winced, sucking in her breath, but didn’t move. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Lyric handed him the envelope. “It’s my letter of resignation.”

“Why?” Lyric felt sorry for him when she saw that the look of confusion on his face was real. He had no idea what was going on in his life, what he was doing to himself.

“Because I can’t watch you self destruct any longer, Howie. You won’t listen to anyone anymore, and we only have your best interests at heart.” She picked up her purse and turned to leave.

“I thought we were friends, Lyric.” His voice softened, almost pleading. “I need you, I can’t function without you.” Lyric knew that was true, he’d be totally unable to live his life without someone to look after him – someone to keep him out of trouble.

“I thought we were too, until last night. Everything’s changed now.”

“Why? What happened last night?” He laid the briefcase on the table. “I went to a club, that’s it, nothing unusual happened.”

Lyric removed her sunglasses, revealing the black eye and bruise that covered her cheek. Thankfully the cut hadn’t required stitches.

“Who did this to you? I’ll kill the bastard!” Howie said, a strength to his voice that Lyric hadn’t heard in a long time. She didn’t respond, wanting to build the tension between them. She wanted this moment to have the required impact, or else all would be lost.

He took several steps forward, only a few inches separated their faces. “Tell me who did this to you,” he insisted again when she didn’t answer. Their eyes met and held – his a dark liquid brown, hers an intense ice cold blue.

“You did,” she said.

Lyric unwound the scarf, then reached down and pulled the dress over her head. She was naked except for black lace panties – she wanted him to see everything he had done to her. Bruises and bite marks discolored her neck, breasts, arms, and thighs.

“I…did that?” Howie could only stare in horror, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He placed his hand on her arm, his fingers an exact match to the bruise there. He pulled back like his hand was on fire.

“We argued about your drinking and the drugs. I said something you didn’t like and you punched me.” Howie looked down at his hand, at the stained ring, then at Lyric’s face.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the torn dress, laid it on the table. “Then you ripped my clothes off and raped me. I pleaded with you to stop, but you wouldn’t listen.” Lyric kept all emotion from her voice. It was so very difficult, she wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to hurt him like he had hurt her.

Howie closed his eyes, trying to remember the previous night. He had been drinking, and he’d taken something before that, he didn’t even know what it was, only knew that it would make him high. Images flashed before his eyes, of a woman on the floor of his living room, her hair spread around her beautiful face like a halo, her body naked, the skin so soft.

“Not like this, she said, over and over. I thought it was a hallucination, the drugs do that sometimes.” Lyric watched the truth bloom in his face, watched as disgust filled his eyes. “Oh my god…” Howie staggered from the kitchen to the nearby bathroom.

“It was no hallucination, Howie, it was my nightmare,” she shouted at his retreating back, pulling the dress back on. Lyric could hear him vomiting violently, heaving until there was nothing left. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him, but knew her only hope now was tough love. She prayed for the strength to continue.

When Howie returned, he was pale and shaking. “Ricky, I don’t know what to say.” He moved to touch her but she shrank away from him. “I’m sorry, so very sorry, sweetheart…”

“You better get going or you’re gonna miss your meeting,” Lyric interrupted. She put her sunglasses back on and headed for the door.

“Please stay, Lyric. I need you.” She could hear the desperation in his voice.

“I’m not babysitting you anymore. No more pay offs to keep you out of the tabloids. Your fans can see you as you really are.” She deliberately kept her back to him. If she looked into his eyes now, she knew she’d give in. “I’m not going to lie to your family or to the band or to the label. It was your choice, and now you have to live with the consequences.”

“It’s not my fault.” Anger and denial now colored his voice. “My friends…”

“Are NOT your friends at all,” she interrupted. “They are using you.” Lyric hated the people that hung around him, she’d tried to get rid of them so many times but Howie kept letting them back into his life.

“You’re a bitch and a liar, Lyric. Go on, leave then.”

Lyric sighed, it was going just as Alex said it would, but she had to be strong for Howie. “Ok, I’m leaving. I can’t be your employee, or your friend, while you’re doing this.” She kept walking towards the door.

He took a step towards her, hesitantly reached out to her. “But…” She felt fear replace the anger.

Lyric had her hand on the door knob. “No buts, Howie. It’s either the drugs, alcohol, and your pretend friends or your real friends and family. You can’t have both.” She made her voice as cold and hard as she could. “It’s your choice.”

Her heart was pounding, her hand on the door was trembling. Had she done enough to convince him? The tension in the room was almost unbearable.

“I’m an alcoholic and abusing drugs,” he finally said. Lyric stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’m willing to go to rehab. No, I must go to rehab,” he corrected himself.

Lyric turned to face him, she needed to see his face when he answered her. “Do you really mean it? You’ll go get on a plane right now?” She held her breath.

Howie nodded, his world shattered. He looked at Lyric’s ruined face and the bile rose in this throat. How could he have turned into such a monster? Lyric had been by his side for two years and trusted him completely. He’d betrayed her, hurt her physically and mentally. He was no better than her father.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Whatever you ask.”

As Howie moved towards her, Lyric saw tears fill his eyes, then run down his cheeks. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” His fingers touched the bruise on her face, she could feel him shaking.

“Nothing that love won’t heal,” she thought to herself as his fingers caressed her swollen lips. He dropped his hand with a sigh, she could feel the energy drain out of him.

“I’ve almost ruined my life, haven’t I?”

“Yes, but its not too late,” she said softly.

“Will you…will you still be here when I get out?” Howie prayed that he hadn’t completely destroyed what was between them. Lyric nodded, relief filled his face. “What about my family, the press, and the fellas? Does anyone else know?”

“I didn’t go to the police or to the hospital, Howie. I haven’t talked to anyone but the rehab center, not even your family. I’ll leave that up to you, to explain it to everybody.”

“Thank you. I don’t deserve to have someone like you in my life.” Lyric didn’t argue with him, she felt the exact same way right at the moment.

“I’ve made all the arrangements already, the center will have a car waiting at the airport. Your suitcase is in the car. You have just enough time to stop at your meeting and explain to the label and to the fellas that you need some time off.”

“What do you think they’ll say?” he asked as he climbed into the passenger seat of her SUV.

“I think they will be happy to hear that you’re finally getting help.” She started the car. “Everyone has been worried about you for a very long time.”

As they drove off, Howie turned in the seat to see two suitcases. “Two bags?”

“One is mine. They won’t let me stay with you for long, but you shouldn’t have to make the trip alone.”

Silence filled the car as they drove towards downtown LA, the stop and go traffic as miserable as usual. Lyric looked over at Howie, he was lost in his own thoughts. She hoped he was finally thinking about what he’d done to everyone around him.

“Did you mean it?” Howie asked, his voice barely audible above the engine noise.

“Mean what?” Lyric glanced over at him, his face was serious.

“You said last night that you loved me.”

Lyric was surprised that he remembered. She hesitated before answering, she didn’t want anything to distract him from his mission to get clean and sober. But she thought that maybe knowing someone on the outside loved you would be some incentive.

“Yes, I meant it.”

“Even after what I did to you last night?” His voice faltered.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard, fighting the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “I know last night wasn’t the real you. The man I fell in love with is still inside you, wanting to come back.”

“I’ll be that man for you again, Ricky. I promise.”

“I trust you.”

Howie was quiet for a moment. “I love you too.” He reached out his hand, Lyric took it and squeezed it gently.

For the next three weeks, Lyric took care of business as usual. She wondered how Howie was doing, they weren’t allowed to contact him directly. Momma D had received a note from him, saying he was doing well, but Lyric hadn’t heard from him at all. She wondered if that was a good thing.

Three weeks into his 30 day stay, Howie’s family was invited to the center for a group session. Lyric was surprised to receive an invitation, she wasn’t sure that Howie considered her family – although she knew his family did.

Momma D, Howie’s three siblings, Nick, Alex, Brian, and Lyric sat in a circle in the room. In the center of the circle, two empty chairs sat facing each other.

“It is important, Howie, that you recognize the impact that your behavior has had on those around you – in your situation that includes your coworkers and family. A step in the right direction is to face those people, listen to them, and then address them directly.” The counselor rose from his chair and walked around the outside of the ring of people. “This is going to be as difficult for them as it is for you, but this is a vital step in your recovery. Please take a seat in the middle.”

Howie rose and walked to an empty chair. Lyric thought he looked much better than he had when she’d escorted him to the treatment center. She thought he had lost some weight, but still looked tired. She knew this was a physical, as well as emotional, drain on him.

The counselor called Howie’s siblings to the opposite chair, one at a time. Looking each other in the eye, they described how Howie’s drug and alcohol addiction had affected them. Howie apologized to each, promising he would be there for them when they needed him.

Howie’s brothers, his band mates, were next to fill the empty chair. He apologized to each for jeopardizing their careers, and told them how much they meant to him. Alex knew the kind of hell Howie was experiencing, he’d gone through it himself. He’d apologized to them just like Howie was doing to him. He knew the road ahead would not be easy.

Next up was Howie’s mother, Lyric could see she was shaking. Howie looked like he might throw up.

“Your father was so proud of you, Howard, of all that you’ve accomplished in your life. He would be terribly disappointed to see what you’ve done to yourself. I understand that you’ve had a hard time dealing with his death, but that is no excuse for drinking and doing drugs.” Momma D wiped a tear from her eye. “You’ve lied to me, let me believe that everything was ok with you. In the months since Hoke’s death, I needed you, needed your strength, and you weren’t here for me.”

Howie was having a hard time controlling his emotions. “I am truly sorry that I have disappointed my family. Hurting you, Mama, is the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. I felt so lost after dad died.” Howie broke down crying, it took him a while to regain his composure. “I should’ve come to the family for help, admitted that I could not do this alone – it was wrong to hide from you, from everyone who just wanted to help me, to support me. I tried to hide my pain from you, thinking I was helping you, when it fact it was hurting you even more. I apologize, and I hope that you can forgive me.”

Lyric was the last to be called to the chair. Howie was an emotional wreck, what she had to say wasn’t going to be easy on either of them, but the counselor had insisted that they be completely honest with Howie.

“I have only been a part of your life for a short time, Howie, but in that time we’d become very close, or so I thought. Over the last two years, I probably spent more time with you than anyone else in your life. Keeping you safe was my job and you made that so incredibly difficult. So many times I rescued you from clubs, driving you home so that you didn’t kill yourself or others. I lied for you - to your family, to your management, to the band, to the world even – so you wouldn’t lose the job you love so much, or lose the respect that your fans have for you. I tried every way I knew how to remove temptation from you but you still found a way to drink or get high – and then lied to me about it.

“Many times I came to work and found you passed out on the floor, laying in your own vomit. I cleaned you up, put you to bed to sleep it off, and then did your work and mine too. You brought dangerous people into our lives – addicts and prostitutes who took advantage of you, stole from you, supplied you with drugs. There was a good reason I always carried a stun gun with me, I had to use it several times to protect myself, or you, from harm. I almost overdosed when your dealer kidnapped me and injected me with cocaine and heroin. I would’ve died if it hadn’t been for Alex’s quick thinking.”

There was a stir in the room, no one had known about that incident. With every revelation, Howie seemed to shrink. There was soon going to be another shock, although Lyric didn’t want to bring it up she knew she had to.

“I remained loyal to you because I knew you needed me. When you cut yourself off from your family and friends, you had no one else to look after you. The mental abuse I could handle – the accusations and yelling were like reliving my childhood. The physical abuse I suffered at your hands left me doubting whether I could continue to support you, Howie. You threw a bottle at me and nearly blinded me, you punched me in the face when I dared to confront you about your drinking, about the drugs.” Lyric took a deep breath, trying to will herself to do what she had to do. Her voice was just a loud whisper. “And then you raped me. I begged you to stop, but you were too high to even realize what you were doing. And you took something from me, a precious thing that I was saving for my husband - my virginity. I made a promise to God, and to my mother, that I would wait for marriage…and love.”

Everyone in the room was in tears, they could see how Lyric’s words fell like boulders on Howie, crushing him. His head was in his hands, he couldn’t bear to look at her. But their hearts broke for Lyric, who stripped bare her soul in front of them.

“But what hurt me most of all, Howie, was watching you self destruct. You are the most amazing man I have ever met – talented, kind, smart, and generous to a fault. You gave me back my life, took a chance on me when no one else would.” She was glad of the tissues close at hand, she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Please, look at me.” Howie slowly raised his head, their eyes met. “One night, you asked me how you knew when you’d found the love of your life. I told you then that I didn’t know, but I lied. You know it’s true love when you stand by that person, no matter what they say or do, whether you are laughing or crying. In my heart, Howie, the good times overshadow the bad times, a thousand times over. I’ve loved you since the very first time we met. You do not have to ask my forgiveness. The moment you admitted to me you had a problem, I forgave you everything, because I know the man that you are. I knew that you would follow through on that promise.”

Howie reached out and took Lyric’s hands, she could feel him trembling. “I thought going through withdrawal was the worst pain I would ever experience. I was wrong. Listening to what I have done to you was the worst kind of torture,” Howie admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I beg your forgiveness anyway, Ricky. I failed you on every level possible – as an employer, as a friend, as the man who loves you. You’ve endured so much because of me. You say you’ve forgiven me, but how can I ever forgive myself for what I’ve done to you?

“I’ve learned that I need to forgive myself, but not forget, so that I don’t fall back into the addiction. If it takes the rest of my life, I will make it up to you. I apologize, darling, for all the pain I have caused you. I freely admit that I am an addict and an alcoholic, and I understand that I will have to fight this the rest of my life – but I pray that you will be by my side to help me, because with you I know I can face the future.”

And at his last words, Lyric was in his arms and he was holding her tightly. They both were crying.

“I think this has been a productive meeting,” the counselor said, gently breaking them apart. “I need to meet with Howie for the next hour, and then he’ll be able to eat dinner with you and spend a little time before his final meeting of the day. You can wait for him in the courtyard.”

Lyric sprinted for the door, she was too overwhelmed to talk to anyone at the moment. Spying a bench under a tree on the far side of the open space, she claimed it – and turned her back to the rest of the world.

Emotions swirled around her head in a wild whirlwind, she was unable to stop them. She didn’t know how she’d made it through that confrontation without breaking down, maybe she was stronger than she thought. But Lyric knew she’d never be able to do it again – to be able to see the torment on Howie’s face without being able to comfort him.

“That was very brave,” a quiet voice said from behind her.

“I did what I had to do. You, of all people, should know how it feels.” Lyric scooted over to make room for Alex to sit beside her.

He reached out and took her hand, squeezed it gently. “I had no idea, Lyric, what had happened that last day. You could’ve called me, I’d have come to be with you…” He let the sentence hang.

“Thank you, I know you would’ve, Alex. But it was something that I needed to do on my own. Howie needed to see what he’d done and if you’d been there, he might have just blown it off, you know, that bravado between men thing.”

“I probably would have beaten the crap out of him, actually,” Alex admitted. “When you took off your sunglasses at the meeting, I almost lost it – realizing that he’d hit you. If we had known what else he had done to you, I’d be in jail today for murder. I made you a promise to protect you and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“It was a calculated risk, letting everyone at the meeting get a glimpse of what happened – but I needed management to see that Howie was at the breaking point and I needed their blessing to get him to treatment.”

“I’d already smoothed the way for that earlier, Lyric. We knew how much trouble he was in, we were all just waiting for that moment when he realized he needed help.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’d have forced him to rehab if I’d had any idea he might hurt you. I apologize to you as well, sweetheart.”

“No need, Alex. I don’t think any of us thought he’d get physical, he’s just not like that. But you never know, do you?”

“Will you be ok?” he asked, hugging her. “I can come stay with you if you’d rather not be alone.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Alex hugged her again and then left to talk to his band mates.

“Mi hija! Are you ok?” Momma D came over to sit with her. “Oh my goodness, querida, I had no idea what my son had done to you. I’m so sorry!” Momma D was on the verge of crying.

“I’m fine, mi mama,” Lyric said, trying to reassure her. “I didn’t want ya’ll to know what had happened, but the counselor made me. I didn’t want to hurt you.” Lyric felt the tears well up again.

“You are as bad as my son, not telling me what is going on,” Momma D gently scolded. “I can’t believe he hurt you,” she said softly, taking Lyric into her arms and hugging her tightly.

“It wasn’t Howie, it was the drugs and alcohol, Mama. He would never hurt me on purpose. He has a kind and gentle soul, that’s why I fell in love with him.”

“You do truly love him? After everything that’s happened?”

“Si, Mama. I’ve loved him for a long time, I just couldn’t admit it to myself – I said that I would never love a musician, not after what my father did to my mother.”

“And then that ended up happening to you as well,” Momma D added. She was well aware of Lyric’s past, they had talked about that at length while traveling on the tour bus together.

“But my father was an evil man, mi mama. He did those things on purpose, to hurt us.” Lyric wiped away a tear.

“Maybe he had demons as well, did you ever think of that?”

“No, I didn’t. They used to fight all the time about something, I never knew what it was about,” Lyric admitted. “Maybe he was using drugs too. That would explain a lot.”

As Momma D unpacked her suitcase, Lyric perched on the edge of the bed and filled her in on the latest gossip.

“Are you feeling ok, querida?” Momma D asked, pausing as she folded a shirt.

“I’ve been kinda nauseated lately, but it goes away and I feel fine,” Lyric said. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life, it’s just a little tummy bug,” she assured Howie's mother.

“I don’t know, you look a little green. And you’ve put on some weight too.”

“We’ve just been working really hard, I’m not eating right. Don’t worry, mi mama, everything’s fine.” Lyric picked up her empty suitcases and stowed them away in the closet.

“We’ll see,” Momma D said, eyeing Lyric closely. Howie’s mother was in town for a couple of weeks to visit. Howie’s hectic schedule wouldn’t allow him any vacation time for quite a while.

For a couple of days, Momma D watched Lyric closely. She had her suspicions, but she said nothing.

“I need to talk to you,” Momma D said one morning, herding Lyric back into the guest bathroom.

“What about? Is something wrong?”

Momma D shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong – but I need you to do something for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, mi mama,” Lyric said, laughing at her own little Backstreet joke.

“Prove it by peeing on this thing,” she said, handing Lyric a little foil wrapped package.

“What is this?” Lyric looked at closely.

“It’s a home pregnancy test, mi hija. Now take it into the bathroom, open the package, and follow the directions.” Momma D shoved Lyric into the bathroom and closed the door.

A few minutes later Lyric reappeared. “Do…do you think I’m pregnant?”

“When was the last time you had your period?”

“I don’t remember, mi mama. So much has happened…” Lyric’s knees suddenly gave out and she sat down heavily on the bed, she felt numb from the very idea that she might be pregnant.

Momma D watched the seconds tick by on her wrist watch, after three minutes had passed, she nudged Lyric. “It’s time to check it,” she whispered.

“I…I can’t - you do it,” Lyric whispered back, afraid of what she would see.

Momma D came back a moment later, the test in her hand. She was smiling, but Lyric couldn’t tell the results just from looking at Howie’s mother’s face.

“It’s positive, Lyric. You’re pregnant.” She laid the test on the dresser and hugged Lyric hard.

Tears flowed down Momma D’s face and joined with the ones on Lyric’s face, but Lyric was afraid they were crying for different reasons.

“Are you happy, mi hija?” Momma D asked, a huge grin on her face.

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted, hating that the smile melted from Momma D’s face.

“How could you not be happy? You are going to have Howie’s baby!” she whispered. “Don’t you love him?”

“It’s not that simple.” Lyric wiped the tears from her face. “Yes, I love him more than life itself, and I want to give him all the children he wants…but the way this one was conceived…”

Lyric got up and started pacing the room. “He raped me. There was no love involved in the act, only violence.”

“He didn’t mean it, Lyric. You know that he loves you.”

“My head knows that, Momma D, but my heart doesn’t. He hasn’t been the same since he came back.”

“Has he been mean to you, querida? I haven’t seen that since I’ve been here.”

“No, he’s been nice to me. Too nice.” Tears were running down her face again. “He hugs me, tells me he loves me and kisses me goodnight – but then goes to bed alone.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Momma D said. “He’s trying to respect you.”

“But he doesn’t tease me like he used to, he doesn’t act silly or burp to make me laugh…or throw things at me when I get too serious.” She sat on the bed, her head in her hands. “He says he loves me, but the words are empty – his actions speak louder than words.”

“He does love you, Lyric, just give him time…”

“How much time does it take? I’ve seen him nearly every day for two full months, given him every opportunity to say what’s in his heart – and I get nada!” Lyric jumped to her feet. “This isn’t a good time to have a baby!” she wailed.

“Baby?” Howie walked in to hear Lyric’s last words. Momma D and Lyric looked guilty, unable to meet his eyes. Howie noticed the pregnancy test on the dresser and picked it up. It was hard to miss the results, the word ‘pregnant’ was clear as day in the little window. “Lyric? You’re pregnant?”

Lyric nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. Momma D started to say something but Howie interrupted her.

“Is it mine?” he asked.

Lyric was stunned, she looked at him with her mouth hanging open, unable to speak. With a cry, she jumped from the bed and ran from the room. They heard the kitchen door slam and a car start up, tires squealing as the vehicle raced down the driveway.

“How can you be so stupid?” Momma D asked, shaking her head. “I think you may have just succeeded in driving her away for good this time.”

“I didn’t mean it! It just…came out of my mouth.” Howie looked like he was going to be sick. “She’s really going to have my baby?” he whispered.

“Si. And she isn’t sure she’s happy about it either.”

“Why not?” Howie was struggling to comprehend everything that was happening so fast. “She said she loved me.”

“She may love you, Howard, but that doesn’t mean she has to love a baby that was forced on her, a baby that wasn’t conceived in love.” She stood and hugged him. “She doesn’t believe you love her.”

“But I do! I tell her every day how much I love her.”

“Your lips may say it, but her heart isn’t buying it.” She pulled him down to sit on the bed next to her. “I’ve watched you two together. You treat her kindly, but you hardly ever touch her. You two barely even talk.”

“I’m afraid to hurt her,” Howie admitted.

Momma D wanted to laugh at the irony of his remark. “You just broke her heart, you know that? After everything you have done and said, after everything that has happened to her over the past year, she has stayed by your side and protected you – and you have the nerve to question that loyalty?”

“I’m an idiot, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s too late, though. Go to her, Howard, and get on your knees and beg her forgiveness. Show her how much you love her, don’t just say it. She needs to see it in your eyes before she will believe you.”

Howie hugged his mother, made a quick stop in his room, and then ran out to his car.

“Now where would she go?” he wondered out loud. He drove past her favorite spot on the beach but her car wasn’t there. He drove past Alex’s house, she often confided in him when she was upset, but her car wasn’t there either.

Half an hour later, he pulled up outside her house – and her car was in the driveway. When he knocked on the door, no one answered. He pulled out his cell phone and called her, but she didn’t answer.

“Open the door, Lyric!” he yelled, pounding on the door. “I’m not gonna go away until I talk to you,” he shouted, continuing to beat on the front door.

“Stop already,” she said, throwing open the door. “The neighbors are going to call the police.”

Howie was speechless. Lyric stood in the doorway, wrapped in a towel and dripping water on the wood floor. Bubbles slowly slid down one naked shoulder.

“Damn! Haven’t you caused enough trouble today? You want to get my neighbors mad at me?”

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “Please, can I come in and talk?”

“Not a very good time, as you can see,” Lyric said, backing out of the doorway. Howie stuck his foot in the door before she could shut it all the way.

“I’m not leaving until we talk,” he insisted. “Please? Hear me out, and then I’ll go if you still want me to leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Lyric left him standing on the doorstep and walked back into the house, headed towards her bathroom. She didn’t turn to see if he was following, but knew that he would eventually. She dropped the towel and stepped back into the bath, the bubbles billowing up around her.

Howie followed her into the bathroom, then stood there hesitantly, unsure of where to sit. He finally eased down onto the floor beside the old fashioned, claw footed tub. Lyric’s clothes lay in a pile next to him.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said softly. “I don’t even know why it came out of my mouth.”

Lyric said nothing, just kept her eyes closed as she tried to relax. Her muscles were so tense, she hadn’t been so upset since she’d witnessed her father beat her mother those many years before.

“I was shocked, as I’m sure you were, to hear that we’re going to have a baby.” He fiddled with the wet towel on the floor, pushing it around with his foot. “That has to be the dumbest thing I have ever said in my entire life. I apologize, Lyric, with my heart and my soul. I do love you more than anything, and I know that you’d never betray me that way.”

“Damn right I wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“I’m stupid, Lyric. Pretty damn dense at times too.” Lyric didn’t argue with him on that point. “I am so afraid of hurting you again. I watch every word I say, even if I’m teasing, because I’m afraid you’ll take it the wrong way. I’m afraid to touch you, afraid that you’ll pull away from me – I don’t think I could stand that.”

“So you don’t touch me at all – and it makes me think you don’t want me.”

Howie groaned, picking up Lyric’s shirt from the floor next to him. “Ricky, I want you so bad that I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know how I even get any work done because all I do is think of you.” He buried his face in the shirt, breathing in the scent of her. “Every time I reach for you, I pull back because I’m afraid you’ll reject me.”

“It’s not me doing the rejecting,” she said. “Over the last two years, how many times have you kissed me and then pushed me away like a leper? And now you tell me you love me, but I don’t see it in your eyes, don’t feel it in your kisses.”

Lyric opened her eyes, turning her head to meet his gaze. Howie’s seat on the floor put him at the same eye level.

“Is there someone else, Howie? Because I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or feel like you have to be with me because of what happened. Or because of the baby.”

Howie didn’t like the way Lyric’s eyes had turned the color of glacial ice. They only did that when she was highly emotional.

“Oh God, no, Lyric. There is no one else, I swear to God.” He got up and started pacing the tiny bathroom, it only took three strides to cross from door to window. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us…”

“And what conclusion did you come to?” Lyric asked, her voice cold.

“I want to spend my life with you, to love you forever…but I can’t promise you that I’ll never slip up, never have another drink, never hurt you again.” He sat back down next to the tub, as close as he could get. Lyric could see the pain in his eyes. “I can’t offer you the marriage that you deserve, the husband that you deserve.”

“I don’t want a perfect husband or the perfect marriage, Howie. I want a man who loves me with all his heart, a man who will do his very best – even if that means being imperfect.” She reached out and touched his cheek, her hand covered in bubbles. Howie could hear the tiny popping sounds. “We all make mistakes, we have to forgive and move forward.”

“Will you forgive the huge mistake I just made?”

Lyric looked into his big brown eyes, she could read the regret in them. How could she ever stay mad at him when he looked at her like that?

“I don’t know…” she said, teasing him.

“Maybe this will change your mind.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a little box. He balanced it on the edge of the tub, Lyric didn’t move to open it.

“Is that a bribe? Did you pick it up on your way here this afternoon?” Lyric was skeptical.

“Do you remember my second day home from rehab?”

“Yes, you disappeared for an entire afternoon. I wasn’t sure what kind of trouble you might’ve been getting into.”

“You were relieved when I came home, nice and sober.” He smiled at the memory. “But angry when I wouldn’t tell you where I’d been.”

“Mm, I do remember that.” She blushed at the thought, ashamed that she’d thought the worst of him that day.

“I was out shopping for that,” he said, indicating the box. “Marta and I spent the afternoon deciding on the perfect stone for the ring I wanted. She then flew to Brazil to handpick the rough stone, then took it to New York to have it cut by an expert. When she got back, we sat down together and designed the setting because I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“What is it?” Lyric whispered. Howie smiled gently at her, Lyric finally saw the love shining in his eyes once again.

“A small token of my esteem – that comes with a very important question.” He smiled again when he saw Lyric’s eyes grow big. “Lyric, I love you with all of my heart. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Howie picked up the box and opened it, showing her the contents. Inside was a ring that took Lyric’s breath away. A large cushion cut, rose colored gem was flanked on each side by four diamonds. Lyric had never seen a more beautiful ring in the world.

“The imperial topaz is one of the rarest gems in the world. The rose color is the most rare of all – just like you.”

Lyric could only stare at him with her mouth hanging open. She was having trouble breathing, her heart pounding.

Howie was getting anxious, she still hadn’t answered his question. “So…is that a yes or a no?” he said gently, reaching out to touch her face.

“I don’t know…” she stammered, finally tearing her eyes away from the brilliant ring. She reached out a shaking hand and closed the box, leaving the ring inside.

“Why?” Howie asked, his voice trembling. He hadn’t expected that answer from her. “Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I do! But this proposal isn’t because of the baby, right?”

“No, not at all. During rehab, all I could do was think of you. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’d have me.” He took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. “I am so happy about being a father – but I realize that it’s your decision, and…and I’ll accept whatever you decide.”

Lyric could see the fear in his face, felt his hand trembling in hers. “I loved my father and he betrayed us in every way possible. I cannot put my child in that situation.”

“I’m not your father,” Howie whispered. “I swear I won’t ever betray you like that.” Howie felt her slipping away from him, desperation rose in his soul.

“But you’re a musician, Howie. You go out on tour, the girls throw themselves at you. The temptations are all there – women, alcohol, and drugs. Alex told me how it is.”

“So what does that mean – about us being together? About getting married? And the baby?” Howie hated the quiver in his voice.

“I have to be sure, Howie. I hope you understand.”

“You don’t want to abort the baby, do you?” Howie was close to tears. “Please…”

“Of course not! This baby – it’s part of us both, I’d never throw that away.” Relief flooded Howie’s face. “Even though she…”

“…or he,” Howie added.

“…wasn’t conceived in the manner that I’d hoped for, I still want this baby more than anything.” Lyric laid back in the tub, resting her head against the rim and closing her eyes. “I told you the story of my parents to warn you how warped I am, Howie. I don’t know if I can ever trust again.” Lyric wanted to be completely honest with him, this was too important an issue.

“And that same night, I confessed to you that I didn’t think that I could ever really love a woman.” He sighed deeply. “And yet here I am, so totally in love with you. I have no second thoughts whatsoever about asking you to share my life forever. Doesn’t that reassure you that things can change?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts, Lyric. It is not you who is warped, it was your father. He used people, gained their trust, and then betrayed them. It didn’t matter if he hurt anyone as long as he got what he wanted.” He leaned over so that his face was only inches from Lyric’s. “I will bare my soul to you, whatever you wish to know, just so I can prove to you that I am not a user, that I won’t betray you.”

“What about Hilary and Orchid?” Lyric demanded. She already knew that Howie hadn’t been sleeping with them, but he didn’t know that. What she wanted to know was why he allowed her to think that he had been.

Howie laughed out loud. “Oh god, Lyric. I swear to you that I never, ever slept with them. They were using me as a cover. Hilary is the most well known exotic dancer in the area – but how many men would pay to see her dance if they knew she was a lesbian? Orchid was her lover, they pretended I was their boyfriend so that they could meet without arousing any suspicions. Hilary would rather eat glass than sleep with a man.”

“So why did you let them use you that way?”

“At first I thought it was funny, then I realized that they were using me. I couldn’t get rid of them and that annoyed me. But then I figured out that I could use them to my own benefit.”

“You…were using them? How?” Lyric was skeptical.

“I wanted to be with you, Ricky, but I’d made a promise to myself that…” Howie’s voice broke, he took a deep breath before finishing. “…that I would never again sleep with a woman unless I loved her. I had strong feelings for you, but I had no clue what real love felt like, so I wasn’t sure that what I was feeling was love. So I used them as an excuse, as a buffer zone between you and me.”

“Because you knew that I wouldn’t hang around if they were there because I disliked them so much.”

“Exactly. Having you near me was torture, I wanted to take you in my arms and make love to you – but I couldn’t do that. I refused to use you like I had used other women before.”

“But you didn’t keep your promise after all…” Lyric reminded him gently.

“And I regret that night so deeply, Lyric. When I saw what I had done to you, I wanted to die. You stayed with me through that insanity, kept me safe. I hurt the one person who I loved with all of my heart – but I was just too stupid to see it.”

Howie leaned back against the toilet, closed his eyes. “You may not believe it, but I fell in love with you the very first time I saw you.” He laughed softly. “Despite the frumpy suit that was two sizes too big for you, despite your gorgeous hair all pulled back into a bun, despite the wariness I could see in your eyes. I’d have offered you twice that amount to get you to work for me.” He sighed, then opened his eyes. “I felt something for you then, like you were meant to be in my life. But I didn’t believe in love at first sight, so I ignored every feeling, pushed you away and pretended that I felt nothing.”

“I felt that too, at our first meeting,” Lyric admitted. “That’s why I agreed to work for you, despite all my misgivings about musicians. It didn’t matter how much you offered me, I felt like I had to be with you too.”

“God, we wasted so much time!” Howie sighed.

“No, it wasn’t wasted. We had lessons to learn first, before we could accept what our hearts already knew.” Lyric picked up the ring box and opened it, gazing down at the gleaming jewels. She then looked Howie in the eyes, her gaze never wavering. “I believe in you, believe in our love and that everything will work out.” She took the ring out of the box and slid it on her left hand ring finger, it fit perfectly.

“You can trust me with your life,” Howie whispered, tears in his eyes.

Lyric grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her body as she stood up. They stood looking into each other’s eyes for a long moment. “Will you make love to me?” Lyric finally asked, breaking the silence.

“It would be my pleasure,” he sighed. Lyric stepped from the tub and led him to the bedroom just steps away.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for a long time,” she whispered as she lay back on the bed, the towel still wrapped around her, feeling suddenly shy.

Howie knelt at the foot of the bed, his eyes intense. He kissed the arch of her foot, making her giggle softly. Slowly his lips inched upwards, tasting the soft skin of her inner leg and then thigh. Lyric sighed, feeling the fire build within her.

When he reached the apex of her legs, Howie moved the towel aside to reveal a neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair. He pressed an ardent kiss to the mound, Lyric gasped as pleasure shot through her.

“May I taste you?” Howie asked, his voice husky. When she looked perplexed, he laughed softly at himself. “I’m sorry, I forget that this is your first time…” He explained what he wanted to do, Lyric shivered in anticipation and then agreed.

At the first touch of his tongue against her sensitive center, Lyric moaned in pleasure. “Oh god, don’t stop…that is amazing!” Howie smiled as she writhed at his ministrations, his mouth and fingers pleasing her until she climaxed. She lay panting, aftershocks jolting her for several minutes afterwards.

Lyric pushed up on her elbows, looking down at Howie, still laying between her legs. “Pretty proud of yourself, huh?” she asked, willing her heart to stop racing.

“I aim to please…and I did please you, right?”

“Hell yeah,” she said with a grin. Howie laughed, Lyric rarely swore.

“Let’s see what else I can kiss,” he murmured, pulling the towel off of her body and tossing it onto the floor.

“Be my guest,” she said, smiling. “I’m all yours.”

As he turned back towards her, he stopped short. “What the hell?” he asked, discovering the tattoo on her hip. “When did you get this?”

Lyric sighed. “The same time I got the butterfly, when I lost that bet to Alex. I was a little drunk and agreed to a second tattoo. I let him pick what he wanted and where…”

“I’m gonna kill the bastard,” Howie said, laughing so hard he fell off the bed.

“What’s so funny?”

He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. He unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor, standing in front of her in his boxers.

“Before you came back on tour, we had a night off in Vancouver. I went out drinking with those people.” Howie never referred to them as his friends anymore, he knew better now. “Alex came along, I think to keep an eye on me. I was drunk and high, I made a foolish bet with him…”

“And lost,” Lyric interrupted with a smile.

“Of course. You’d think I’d have learned by now that you rarely win a bet with that bastard.” Howie grinned sheepishly, then pulled down the waistband of his boxers. “This is the result of the losing bet.”

Lyric crawled over and sat on the end of the bed, leaning over to get a better view. Howie had a tattoo on his left hip, identical to the one on her right hip - the Chinese symbols for ‘soul mate.’

She leaned over and kissed the tattoo, then eased his boxers to the ground. She pushed him gently down on the bed, then climbed on top of him, stretching her body so they touched along the entire length. “You realize that when we are laying together, the tattoos touch,” she said with a smile.

“I can see that,” Howie said, groaning as Lyric wiggled on top of him. “I bet Alex is feeling pretty smug about it too.”

“Naturally.” Lyric kissed him, reveling in the heady feeling it gave her. “While I was getting the tattoo, he leaned over and whispered in my ear that you and I would be together forever.”

“He’s a smart son of a bitch,” Howie admitted. “He knew long ago what we couldn’t see.”

“Just don’t tell him that. He’s already got a big enough head as it is.” Howie agreed. “I thought you said there was no way you’d ever get a tattoo.”

“Mm, well, I was a little…medicated…at the time.” Howie blushed, he was ashamed of how he had acted.

“I think it’s sexy as hell,” she purred, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over her backside, loving the soft perfection of her skin.

“Maybe I could get more…”

“Uh no, I think one’s plenty,” she laughed softly. “Leave the tatts to Alex.”

“You don’t think Alex is sexy?” Howie asked.

“He has his own unique sex appeal,” Lyric admitted. “But since the day I first looked into those puppy dog eyes of yours, I’ve seen no one else who comes close to you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Howie whispered in her ear. He rolled them over so that he now was on top. “Are you ready for me?”

“I’ve been ready for a long time,” she said against his lips, opening her legs to give him access.

“Tell me if you want to stop…” Howie said, not knowing if he actually could.

“Like hell I will,” she quipped.

“What a mouth you have on you, Ricky!” Howie teased. “Where’d you learn to talk like that?”

“Duh! Alex would make a sailor blush, and you aren’t much better.” She laughed at his mock hurt face. “I’ll show you just what this mouth can do…” Lyric pulled his head down for a passionate kiss.

Very slowly Howie entered her, amazed at the tightness and warmth. Lyric moaned, deepening the kiss until they both were breathless.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “I want more!”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Howie smiled down at her. “It will be my pleasure to give you all I have.” With a tenderness that he hadn’t known he possessed, Howie made love to her, slowly and gently, building the suspense until they tumbled over the edge into oblivion.

Afterwards, as they lay in each other’s arms, he stroked her face. “I hope I pleased you,” he whispered.

“Very much so,” she whispered back, still tingling from head to toe. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” he said, his hand moving down to stroke her belly, which showed a barely perceptible bulge. “And I love our baby too.”

**********

Two weeks later, Lyric found herself standing on the pure white sands of Matangi Island Resort, a horseshoe shaped private island in Fiji. As the waves gently broke on the sandy shore, they proclaimed their love for each other as the sun set in the distance.

Around their necks, flower leis gave off a soft scent. Lyric couldn’t hold back the tears, as she wiped at hers she saw Howie was also teary eyed. The minister proclaimed them man and wife, Howie took her in his arms and kissed her.

After the ceremony, they stood on the beach for a long time, holding hands. Neither one spoke, words seemed unnecessary. Finally Howie turned towards their bure, a private Fijian style bungalow just steps from the ocean.

“Are you going to make love to me?” Lyric asked, suddenly feeling shy.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from you,” he said with a wicked grin. “We’re legal now, my wife. And I intend to take full advantage as my status of husband.”

“You’d better,” she whispered, slipping the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door as she shut it firmly behind them.