She decided there was no way she was going to enlist the aid of this silly, simpering young girl. She had considered the fact that she might need help with her plan, but after listening to this drivel, she decided it was best to go it alone. She had the strength. And that way she wouldn't be forced to share.
"Oh, he's just dreamy, isn't he?" her fellow secretary cooed as they sat together in the office breakroom. "I'd do anything just to give him a hug." She giggled, a sound that also strongly reminded Lucia of a pigeon.
Lucia grunted noncommittally and set her attention to her teacup. Recrossing her legs carefully in the tiny navy skirt she wore, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of one of the male members of the company eavesdropping by the doorway. The idiot was nearly drolling as he stared at the expanse of muscular yet slim thigh she was revealing. She deliberately opened her legs and shifted her position with a slight, mocking smile. The man flushed and quickly walked past the door. His posture, Lucia noted with a grin, was a bit...stiff.
"What, Lucia? What's so funny?" her podgy companion asked, startling her from her diversion.
"Nothing, Gail. My break's over. I'd better get back to the files," Lucia said, getting up and rinsing her cup in the small sink.
Gail watched Lucia leave, envying the sway of her hips, the way her curves lay in just the right places, her gorgeous hair, flashing dark eyes, the way all men fell over themselves to get her attention. She looks just like one of them gypsies, Gail thought as she wiped scone crumbs from the table. Lucky duck. But there was always something a little spooky about Lucia.
*******
Indeed, there was something spooky about Lucia. Later, at home in her small flat with her familiar, a grey and white tomcat named Talias, Lucia tapped a pencil against her perfectly white teeth as she wrote down a list of all the things she might need: Extra food, men's clothing, strong rope, perhaps some duct tape if necessary. Talias jumped onto the table, rubbed himself against her and gave a rusty mew.
"Ah yes, my dear. Let's hope it doesn't come to that," she purred back to him. "But he's a strong-willed one, he is, and if I can't get him the conventional way, then this will have to do." I'll take him any way I can, she thought, a jittery feeling of anticipation fluttering through her breast, any way at all. As an afterthought, she scribbled First-Aid supplies, dried rose hips, distilled oil of scorpion.
********
John threw his head back and yodeled. An unruffled George Martin spoke into the intercom, "All right. Time for a break, lads," and walked to the commissary.
Paul swung his bass over his shoulder and set it down carefully before collapsing full-length onto the floor and rubbing his hands across his aching eyes. George stepped over him to put his own guitar on a table set alongside the studio wall. "Come on, Ringo, I'll buy you a cuppa," he said as Ringo threw down his sticks and rummaged for a cigarette. They disappeared through a side door in the direction George Martin had gone.
John yawned widely and sat down abruptly on one of the stools littering the recording studio. "God, I'm knackered. What time is it?"
Paul opened his eyes reluctantly to glance at his watch. "Almost midnight," he answered, rolling over onto his stomach and pillowing his face on his forearms.
"I say, can't be too clean down there, old chap," John said, looking at him lying facedown on the well-worn rug.
"I don't care," Paul's muffled voice drifted up to him.
"Perhaps I'll join you then." John stretched out on his back, put his arms behind his head, and stared at some waterstains on the accoustical ceiling tiles above. They were nearing the deadline on this LP for the record company, and George Martin was being a slave driver tonight, vowing not to release them until they finished every song. Although the Beatles were used to a hectic schedule, they had just returned from an extended tour and were hoping for a break.
But Brian had insisted, "No, boys! You've got the world at your feet! You've got to keep yourselves in the forefront."
John turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. He looked over to Paul, who lay unmoving. "You can't really expect to sleep, can you?"
Paul lifted his head, his eyes narrowed in irritation. "I might if you'd leave off bothering me!"
"Tch," John clucked. "Let's get some tea."
Paul sighed and rolled onto his back, then slowly sat up with his hands around his knees. "Alright then, you win. Let's go."
They joined Martin and their two bandmates at a table in the nearly deserted cafeteria. The Beatles often worked late into the night, partly because their creativity seemed to run higher in the evenings and partly to avoid the crowds that would queue up during the day.
John finished his cup and rudely put his legs up on the table next to Ringo's teacup. Ringo frowned at him and moved it to his other side. John just grinned and glanced around the room. His attention was riveted to one table and he let out a long whistle.
"Look at that one, mates," he said in a loud whisper. The rest of them followed his eyes to where a stunning black-haired woman sat alone about five tables away, sorting through a mass of papers.
George agreed, "She's smashing, all right."
Paul glanced at her, momentarily taking in her long hair and attractive physique. But for once, he was actually too tired to think about pulling a bird. All he had on his mind at the moment was falling into his bed soon.
The woman suddenly looked up at them, as if she had sensed their collective gaze. Her dark, nearly black eyes met Paul's and he was struck by the brazen animal lust burning in her expression. His thoughts were interrupted by Ringo's elbow digging uncomfortably into his ribs. "Ooh, she's ready for a slap and tickle there, Paulie."
"Don't be soft," Paul muttered, taking another swig from his cup.
Heart thudding, Lucia was disappointed to see the dark-haired handsome boy turn back to his laughing friends after a single cursory glance. Actually, she was a bit irritated and insulted. Most men would've already been standing at her side by now. Bending back over her notes, she studied the scribbled instructions. One way or another, she'd get his attention.
