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Lesli meets Kisa and sparks fly

Kisa’d had a few last minute things to tend to at the studio. So, lunch wound up being changed to an early dinner. Keith came up out of the subway, squinting against what was still a fairly well lit day. When his vision cleared, he spotted Kisa across the NYU courtyard sitting, elbows on a table, chin on palm. He waved, “Hey!”

Don’t you know,” she hollered back, “it’s bad manners to keep a lady waiting?” He’d run into his agent and couldn’t get away for a good half-hour. Continue Reading →

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Keith’s high hopes are dashed







“Uh,” Keith asked, “you want something from the fridge?” Already heading to the kitchen. “Anything cold. Thanks.” He got her a can of ginger ale, grabbed himself a beer. Poor thing, had a blackout. He had no idea where to go from there except to be glad she was here. Continue Reading →

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Lesli shows up and makes herself at home

Keith staggered into the lobby of his apartment building looking like death warmed over. Jesse’s sub was on duty at the reception desk. A disagreeable blue-eyed blonde, Germanic as best he could tell, chiseled cheekbones, legs nearly up to her neck. Probably a frustrated would-be model. Had she half a personality, he’d of been glad to hook her up with any one of a dozen contacts in her field. Continue Reading →

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Lesli gets a good laugh at Keith’s expense

 Lesli briefly froze, going through a few mental clicks to make sense of Keith’s remark. Then fell out laughing, pitching forward, blouse bulging. Finally she collapsed, spilling from her chair to the floor. Howling. Keith stared at her like she had lost her mind. Continue Reading →

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Keith meets Butch and Sundance







Keith was so absorbed in his reveries that it surprised him when he found himself outside his apartment building. He greeted Jesse at the desk and was headed to the elevator. “Mr. Jackson?”

Keith turned. “Yeah?”

“Do you like cats?”

He thought of Lesli’s Bruno. “Can’t stand ’em. Why?”

“Uh…never mind.” Jesse looked sad, approaching pathetic. Keith liked the guy. He walked over and leaned on the desk. “Why?” Then heard the mewling. And peeked behind the reception counter. Continue Reading →

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Keith can’t pull the trigger

Sandwiches finished, Keith and Kisa took their sodas and started walking toward the IRT. They got to the nearby entrance and then stood to the side, letting the mad foot-traffic come and go past them while she continued filling him in on her ex-husband’s sexual problems.

“Turns out the damn fool meant he was sex addict,” she said. “Like that guy from X-Files, you know?” Hubby swore he would get help with his problem. She’d informed him that was all well and good, but he now had two problems: couldn’t keep his fly zipped and was about to lose his shirt in divorce court. That was how she bought her partnership in the recording studio. Continue Reading →

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Kisa fesses up to faking it

They sat on leather-cushioned wrought iron benches outside a gyro bodega in the small park behind the Chrysler Building. A stone’s throw, basically, across the street from Grand Central Station. Kisa dabbed a drop of cucumber sauce from her lower lip. “That was, you know, a long time ago.”

They’d been idly chatting about one thing and another — Phantom, goings on at the studio — not managing to get around to whatever it was on her mind and why she’d called and asked him to lunch. Good as it was to see her again, Keith thought this was chat was running out of gas and brought up the subject of their first meeting. Continue Reading →

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Kisa lured Keith into her hotel room

Keith had studied Kisa there in his London hotel’s lobby as they’d toasted his good fortune to be fully booked up back in New York and she’d sipped her drink. She had a marvelously girlish smile that thoroughly disarmed. They’d found themselves talking shop. Like he, she’d done a few international tours herself. She enjoyed it, though, hopping around the globe, touching down here and there for extended periods of time. Continue Reading →

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Kisa’s message takes Keith back in time to a road tour and London…

Keith woke surprisingly refreshed. Hopped out of bed, went straight to make coffee, promising himself that soon as he was thoroughly conscious, he’d call Lesli. And be careful not to mess up. There were two messages on his voicemail. One from the cleaner reminding him for a third time to come get his clothes. Continue Reading →

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