Peter nodded his head, and then looked up with laughing brown eyes. “New talent eh? Doesn’t that fall into my category?”

“It will be their first album, with lots of promotion opportunities there. Besides,” Brooke smirked, “this was planned before you, my friend.”

Peter laughed. “Somehow Brooke, I didn’t think you’d back off on this one.”

Brooke became a little shy all of a sudden as she began to play with the new blotter on her friend’s desk. “Yeah…anyway, Sam and I agreed that if she had an internship locally, we’d talk about moving in together. I tried to rent an apartment near the campus but she wouldn’t let me.” Brooke stopped what she was doing, and then placed her hands in her lap as she contemplated the memories.

Peter watched her closely. He could tell that this was something Brooke really wanted; in fact, it was more like something that she needed. “Is that why you have that ring ready at all times?” He asked quietly.

A smile broke out on Brooke’s face at the thought of the engagement ring in her pocket. “The ring?” She looked up to see Peter nod. “Actually, I’m waiting for the perfect moment to ask her. She deserves that. I’ll know when the time is right.”

“Oh, I see…” Peter crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “You know, Brooke, I was thinking…if Crystal and I ever get married, you and I would be relatives through marriage, wouldn’t we?”

The dark haired woman looked over at him, surprise evident on her face that the word marriage had even crossed his lips. “Yes, we would. Well, that is, if Sam says ‘yes’.” Brooke gazed back down to her hands as she nervously wrung them in her lap, looking for all the world like she’d just lost her best friend.

“What do you mean ‘if’? You know she’s crazy about you. Why wouldn’t she want to spend the rest of her life with you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just going to be on pins and needles till I hear a ‘yes’ from her lips.”

Peter uncrossed his arms and leaned across his desk, grabbing one of Brooke’s hands in his own. He waited for her blue eyes to meet his own brown ones. “Then ask her, Brooke. Let her tell you for herself. What have you got to lose?” Peter waited for an answer as the sound of silence echoed throughout the office.

“My heart,” Brooke answered, barely loud enough for her old friend to hear.

After releasing the slightly trembling hand of his friend, Peter got up from his seat and walked around the desk. Circling an arm around Brooke’s slumped shoulders, he leaned on the arm of the chair. “Hey, I don’t see that happening at all. That girl loves you with everything she is. Believe me; I can see it when she looks at you. If there’s anything that I can do, Brooke… just ask. I want to see the two of you happy together.”

Brooke couldn’t help but smile when she saw the concern in Peter’s warm eyes. “I’m glad you’re working here, Pete. I didn’t realize until we met up again just how much I’d missed you.”

The man stood up straight, puffed up with pride and smiled. “Yeah, well, I’ve wised up a lot over the last few years. I’m just glad that we got back in touch with each other.”

“Me too.” Brooke shook her head, and then smirked. “And I guess we actually owe that one to the Master Shithead, himself.”

Brown eyes rolled at the mention of their former band mate. “Well, something good has to come out of everything. I guess we were it.”

Brooke stood up from the desk and slapped her friend on the shoulder. “I guess so. All right, I’ve got an errand to run, so I’ll let you get to work, Pete,” she finished with a grin. “I’m sure that Ida will help you with getting everything to your liking once she gets her morning cup of coffee. You might want to start with the computer.”

Peter snapped his heals together in military style and saluted her. “Yes, Ma’am. See ya later, Boss.”

Brooke laughed at his antics as she merely shook her head, and then casually offered her thoughts on his attire as she left the room. “Oh, and Peter, you might want to lose the tie. We’re pretty casual in this company. It doesn’t pay for us to look like the establishment. The artists won’t trust us.”

He looked down nervously to his tie. “Well, it won’t hurt for one day, will it? Besides, I bought this special for my first day here and I’m going to wear it.”

Brooke shrugged her shoulders, then laughed. “Later, Petey. I’ll see you later.”

Waiting until she was gone and the door was closed, Peter turned, looking at the spacious office that was now his. Like a bolt of lightning cutting through a night sky, he threw his fist up into the air after doing a happy dance and yelled, “YES!” Meekly, he looked around and began to settle into his role as Brownstone Records’ new talent scout. The ex-musician straightened his tie, then snuggled into his chair and smiled, waiting for work to come his way.

It was a little over an hour since Peter had been shown his office. Considering how nervous he was earlier, he marveled at the ease with which he was able to start on the tasks that Brooke had gone over with him the night before. He was already becoming more comfortable in his new job and sure enough, Ida had been there to answer any questions he had about company procedures.

He rolled up his sleeves and had just begun to loosen his tie when Ida’s familiar voice came over his speakerphone once again. “Line two, Mr. Butler.”

“Thanks, Ida.” Peter waited for the line to disconnect before punching in the flashing red button on his phone. He took a deep breath before answering. “Brownstone Records, Peter Butler speaking.”

“What in the hell is this shit?” An angry voice asked over the line. “Why are you answering the phones? Where the hell is Brooke?”

Peter rolled his eyes and held the phone away from his ear as he recognized the voice on the other end of the line. “James?”

“No…it’s Mary Frickin Poppins…”

“Hey, James. You called Brownstone Records and I happen to work here now. You don’t have to be so damn insulting with your answers. Brooke is tied up in a meeting right now. May I help you?”

“Yeah…all right, Peter, you fucking traitor. Where in the hell are my master tapes?”

“Traitor?” Peter began, making sure to keep his voice at an even level, trying not to give James the satisfaction of knowing that his ex-band member was pissing him off. “James…I told you I wasn’t going that route any more.”

“Bullshit! She got to you and you happily went along for the ride. Once again, you’re Loran’s little puppet. She pulls the strings and you do her happy little dance.”

Peter rubbed his temples and began to understand why Ida had mentioned getting aspirin for ‘The Boss’ earlier as one of her duties. “No, she didn’t get to me. It’s more like I finally grew up and saw the light. Now the only question is, when will you? Besides… you know, it’s better to dance sober than to be a drunken fool.”

“Yeah? Well you’re no saint either. You’ve definitely done your share. Now where are my damn recordings?”

“You mean the master tapes that Brooke made for you in payment for that little gig we did for her?” Peter asked coyly.

“What, are you senile too? Yes, those recordings.”

The new talent scout let a smile cross his face smugly as he picked up two boxes with the name James Anderson in neat print written across the top. “I uh…wouldn’t know, James. You’ll have to ask her, yourself.” After looking at each side of the boxes, Peter tossed them back down on his desk.

The angered voice boomed over the phone line once again. “Don’t dick me around here, Peter. I’m not into playing games with the likes of you and that whore anymore. I want those tapes.”

The familiar sound of a bottle being opened on the other end of the line brought the complete picture of James back into Peter’s mind. It wasn’t unheard of for James to toss back a six-pack during the course of a simple phone conversation alone. Peter had been witness to it on many occasions during their touring years together. The ex-band member suddenly became repulsed by the images that danced through his brain and lashed out at their source. “You know, James, I’d say that you were the whore out of all of us. You were always selling yourself for a chance at another shot at fame.” Peter’s eyes grew bigger as he began to realize what was going on. “And just like before, you’re trying to ride on Brooke’s coat tails to get it. But a deal’s a deal, so, I’ll look around and see if I can find them.” Yeah, Peter thought, and maybe some year, you’ll get them.

“Don’t piss me off anymore than you already have, Peter.” His words were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. “I wouldn’t advise it. I played that gig for her little schoolgirl, now I want my fucking tapes.”

Peter stifled a yawned before deciding to end this entire conversation. “Why don’t you go sober up, James, then maybe we can have this conversation again sometime. Goodbye.” He brought the handset away from his ear, still hearing the shouted words coming through the line.

“Don’t you hang up on me…”

Click… The handset now rested in its cradle.

Peter got up from his desk and walked over to the window, hoping that the view was nearly as calming as the one he’d seen from Brooke’s office. Looking out the window, he realized that his office was on the other side of the building, his view different, but still he found it calming, none-the-less. “You’ll never change, will you, James,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re still the asshole.” He stood there, reflecting when he heard the soft tapping at his door.

“Mr. Butler?” The older woman slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

Peter turned around to see Ida standing there, her coffee mug in hand. “Please, call me Peter or Pete, Ida. Okay?”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” The woman smiled self-consciously. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m stepping out of the office for some coffee. Would you like some?”

Peter smiled at her. “Yes I would, Ida. Thank you. Strong and black please. I think I’m going to need it.” He watched as the older woman turned to leave and a thought came to his mind. “Hey, Ida?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“How do we send master tapes out of here?”

“Master tapes?” The woman quickly ran through her well-organized mind and could come up with no group under contract that was ready for master tapes. “Well…it depends on where they’re going, who they’re for, and their priority level.”

Peter nodded his head and grabbed the tapes off of his desk as he made his way over to the woman waiting patiently at the door. “Will you send these out, please?” He shrugged, then chuckled. “Use the lowest priority level possible. It won’t make a difference, the band is a loser anyway.”

Ida looked at the name on the top of the box and recognized it immediately. “Should I even bother, Sir?” She asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded with his hands deep in the pockets of his black Dockers. “Brooke promised them and she’s good for her word.”

“Not a problem, I understand. Could you let Ms. Gordon know that a Sam Moleson called and said that her class was cancelled so she’d be waiting at the dorm? I left a note taped to her computer, but I know she’d like to know as soon as she gets back. It seems that neither one of us could get through to her cell phone.”

“Sam? Sure thing, Ida.” Peter smiled, happy for his friend. “I’ll let Brooke know just as soon as I see her.”

“Thank you, Sir.” The woman held up her coffee mug, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“That’s okay, Ida, take your time.” He watched her depart, then grabbed his jacket off the back of the door and quickly rummaged through the pockets. He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of the pocket as a relieved smile came to his face. “I thought I could give you guys up.” Peter held the pack up and sighed. “Oh well, I guess it won’t be today. Time for a smoke break.”

Rolling into her office like one of the waves that quickly rise on the shore, Brooke settled comfortably in her chair and took the phone in her hand. She dialed the familiar number and waited for her lover to answer.

“Hey, what’s up lover? So you got my message, huh?”

Brooke heard Sam’s voice answer and a smile automatically came to her face.

“Hiya, Gorgeous.” She spun her chair, settling to look at the view out of her window. “Yes, I did. Are you playing hooky?”

Sam’s soft laughter filled the line. “Hooky? No, I just had a class cancelled because the professor got sick. I couldn’t think of a better way to use that time than to talk to you.”