" What the fuck. Might as well just jump in, right?"Yes?" She was suddenly serious and alert. Intense. Her willingness and readiness to talk about it ...ared the shit out of me.I looked her right in the eyes. "Did you, uh, enjoy what happened?"She blushed. "You couldn't tell?"It was my turn to blush. My hand still smelled of her juices, as I had held it outside the shower door when I washed up that morning. "Well, I thought you did, but I just wanted to make sure." Yes, I did." She said it. I was used to coming on as a comprimario, a second banana. But Scarpia wasn't a comprimario, he was a star—both in the opera itself and in his fictitious life. I nodded to her, went back out, and we did the whole thing again. This time I didn't just walk in, I strode in as she hammered out my signature music on the piano and mentally took command of the room as I did."That's it!" she enthused. "That's the Scarpia who beat me up in the audition yesterday! You can't just play off me—or Mario or. More

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