Producing A Love Affair

II. Let's Go Crazy

Pulling the silken material of her kimono robe back over her shoulder, Stevie rested her head in her hand as she wrote on her piece of paper.

She was sitting at her desk, having just left Don in her bed to sleep. She was getting back to some work and she still wasn't completely done with her day. She needed to "evict" her groupies for Lindsey---set up some last tour plans for Don and his band while also managing some other people.

Picking up her phone, she dialed on the rotary number wheel. While listening to it ring, she leaned back in her chair and crossed a leg over the other.

"Hello?" a male responded.

"Hey, Jimmy---I need you to get the groupies out of that room," she rubbed at her forehead.

"Awe, Steves---you said, you were gonna," he complained.

"I know, babe, but I didn't have a chance to get back... But I need all the new equipment ready for Lindsey. You know, the new guitarist?"

"Yeah, right..." he paused. Letting off a sigh, "A'ight, Stevie---I'll do my best. When do you need them out by?"

"By midnight; Sunday morning so that I can have people fix anything that may need fixing and then he can start Monday morning at nine."

"That's like a day," he whined. "How do you want me to do that?"

"You'll manage---please?" she pleaded. "Lindsey's really good and I want everything to be good for him because he seems to be really efficient already and it isn't a full band---I can tell he will be done quick. It's him and only a couple of guys."

He let out a growly sigh. "Alright... I'll call you when and if it gets done. I may need help and sometimes you're the guy to help."

"Ha-ha, very funny---" she smirked. "I appreciate it, after that, I will handle everything."

"No problem, babe," he assured. "Have a good night, okay?"

"Yep, you too---bye," she set the phone down. Smiling, lightly---she shook her head. And getting distracted from her work, she started to write some words down.

Blue-gray eyes they change with the color 
Change with the sun they run with the sight
They change with the wind but they're always bright
Bright eyes, Blue Denim
Bright eyes, Blue Denim

"Stevie, you coming to bed?" Don, his growly and groggy voice filled the room.

Jumping ever so slightly, "Yeah---just working on the last thing here," she said, putting the paper over the journal she was writing in. "You start your tour on Friday the thirteenth."

"Friday the thirteenth...? What could go wrong?" he laughed.

"Right?" she laughed as well. Crouching over on her desk, she continued to write.

"Well, come to bed, baby---" he rubbed his face, violently, trying to wake himself up if she decided not to come to bed.

"Alright, honey---" she agreed. Autographing her signature at the end of a page, she started to stand up---holding her robe together.

"Babe..." he lingered a little.

"Here I go---" she assured, before dotting the Is of her name.

Chuckling, he crossed his arms as he watched her because he knew she was writing a little more than just that.

"Okay..." she looked up and started making her way over to him. Smiling, she got on her toes and kissed his lips as she tightened the silk material.