Page 53 of Random in Death

He pressed his lips to her shoulder, to the side of her throat. And on love, took them both over.

Blissful, she clung to him. She could feel his heartbeat slow again, as hers did. Whatever she’d faced during the long day, whatever she’d face on the next, she had right now.

“That was a really good cap.” Sighing, she stroked his hair. “And we’ve probably still got some Sunday left.”

“We do.”

He’d have given the rest of his to help her set up her board, to let her bounce theories, timelines, whatever she needed.

And for right now, knowing he would was enough.

“Why don’t we get some popcorn, more wine, and finish that vid?”

He eased back, looked at her face. “That sounds perfect.”

When they stretched out on the sofa, with popcorn, wine, and the cat, Eve thought: Everything else can wait until Monday.

The annual Battle of the Bands in Memorial Park drew a solid crowd. It lacked headliners, but the music was free, and it gave a chance for bands—usually garage or basement bands—to play to a real audience.

By the time they got to this summer night, most of the seriously crap ones had been weeded out, so the half dozen finalists could hold their own.

Most had some paying gigs in their pockets—school dances, backyard parties—that barely covered the subway fare and a fizzy.

But tonight, the big prize was ten thousand actual dollars, and more, a guest shot on Here’s Talent, a professional production of a vid/disc, plus Internet exposure.

Each group performed three songs. An original, unless it blew, usually chalked up extra points from the panel of three judges.

You had your rockers, your poppers, your thrashers, and your hick stompers.

And every one who walked onto the stage knew the crowd’s reactions played into the judges’ scoring.

They played hard.

Arlie hooted and cheered along with the crowd. Some of the bands—three so far—were better than she expected. Better yet? Being here on a summer night with her boyfriend of four entire months.

His friend played bass guitar and did vocals in Arrow, the last band of the night. She and Moses, her friend Nikki, and Nikki’s girlfriend, Dawn, were going to scream like crazy for Arrow.

As much as she loved the free music, the night out, she really enjoyed judging the costumes and outfits.

She’d just turned seventeen two weeks before. One more year of high school, and hey, senior year, and she’d head off to college to study design.

She had a small college fund, and had saved what she could working summers, a lot of weekends, and breaks at her mother’s shop.

Since her mother was a tailor, and a damn good one, it was solid experience. But she didn’t want to fix clothes. She wanted to design them.

She hoped for a scholarship, so she didn’t have to work every damn break and every damn weekend in college. Unless she got a solid internship.

But all that was down the road, like her mother said. Right now, the music blasted, and like most of the others she was on her feet, dancing or clapping.

She’d heard Arrow, and they were pretty mag. But she worried they wouldn’t beat the band onstage now. The all-girl band Sisters, who rocked it into fricking orbit.

She didn’t want Moses—she was just wild for Moses—to be disappointed.

To prove it, she tempered her applause, and kissed Moses. Kissed him under the stars with the music blasting.

He so did it for her! And they’d done IT four times now.

Tonight, since his parents were out of town visiting friends, and her mom said she could spend the night with Nikki, would be the big fifth.

---