During the recording process itself, all five of them paid a lot more attention to the actual mechanics of putting music on tape than they had during the making of Descent Into Nothing. Since they were no longer intimidated or awed by the mere fact they were making an album, and since they had garnered the respect and admiration of the technical crew by virtue of the continuing success of Descent Into Nothing (it was still holding firm at number one on the album sales chart, although Point of Futility had finally dropped out of the top 40), they had more time, inclination, and cooperation to pay attention to the ins and outs of production. Bill and Jake were both prodigious in this pursuit, spending every free moment they had observing how the sound board and the mixing board were used, learning the finer points of levels and how to best combine them. They learned so much, in fact, that by the time they started working on the third track of the album the techs were actually taking suggestions from the two of them, not out of hero worship or complicity, but because they were actually good suggestions, garnered from their newfound knowledge of the process of recording coupled with their considerable pre-existing musical knowledge.
"We're actually ahead of schedule," Stuart Myers, the head technician who was producing the album, reported to Crow during a staff meeting just before the Labor Day weekend. "At this rate we'll be done by late October."
"Beautiful," Crow said. "Of course we won't release the album until Descent starts to fall off the chart. It wouldn't be prudent of us to have the new album knock the old album out of number one."
"So are we gonna get a break between recording and hitting the road?" asked Coop.
"Fuck yeah," Matt said. "I'm down with a little vacation myself. I was thinking Cabo or even Rio."
"Let's go to Rio, dude," Darren said. "They have cheap pot there and all the bitches walk around on the beach with their titties hangin' out."
"I was thinking Hawaii myself," Jake said whimsically. Mindy had a winter home on Molokai and had already invited him to stay in it with her whenever he got the chance.
"Well, there will probably be a window available for a brief vacation period," Crow said. "Say a week or maybe ten days. And we do have some resorts we can set you up with in all of the above mentioned destinations, and quite a few others as well."
"Only ten days?" Coop asked.
"That will be all we can spare," Crow said. "We'll need you to start putting together the tour even if we won't be sending you out just yet. This tour is going to be much more elaborate than the first."
"It is?" Darren asked.
"Indeed," Crow replied. "We're planning on lots of fizz and sparkle, as well as some advanced technology. There will be pyrotechnics and a video screen. We're also working on a laser light display. Its all the latest rage."
"That sounds kind of expensive," Jake said. "That money comes out of our recoupables."
"We're paying for half of it," Crow said reasonably. "Besides, you made money on the last tour — that's almost unheard of. We might as well spend some of the surplus on production."
"Yeah," Jake said bitterly. "You might as well."
As Mindy had suggested, she and Jake no longer bothered trying to sneak around and keep their relationship a secret. They had dinner together and went out to clubs together. They lounged on public beaches and took walks in public parks. At each place they went they were swarmed by fans snapping pictures, asking for autographs, and enquiring what exactly the relationship between the two of them was. Swarms of paparazzi and other media hounds converged upon them as well, asking the same questions.
"We're just friends," both would insist whenever it was asked. This was the official line from Shaver and Georgette as well (as appalled as both were over the publicity and the refusal of their clients to have a little shame).
"What about the hotel room in Ventura?" they were always asked.
"That never happened," was the standard reply. Shaver and Georgette both expanded on this denial by damning it as a false rumor started by a lowlife hotel staff member trying to cash in by selling completely made-up information. Since the hotel itself refused to release any registration information, or even to confirm that the couple had actually checked in, a seed of doubt remained in the minds of the public and a good number of people continued to believe that there was no sexual relationship between the two of them.
"Like Mindy Snow would have anything to do with that loser," was the common argument advanced by the hard-core Mindy fans.
"Like Jake Kingsley would be tappin' that goody two shoes bitch," argued the hard-core Intemperance fans. "You damn sure know she ain't gonna let him snort no coke out of her ass."
Even though there were shots of the two of them kissing each other — one taken on a dance floor at the Flamingo club, one taken as they climbed into Jake's car at a popular restaurant — they were not considered proof that the two celebrities were getting it on.
"They're very good friends," Georgette explained in each instance. "And Mindy is very affectionate with her friends. I assure you, those kisses are no more than sisterly in nature."
"Sisterly?" Matt laughed when he heard this one. "Holy fucking shit. I wish I had me a sister like that."
And then came the Labor Day weekend. Jake and Mindy left early on Sunday morning (after spending the previous night at Mindy's house, boffing themselves silly) and drove in Jake's Corvette to Lake Casitas, a large, fairly isolated man-made lake twenty miles northwest of Ventura. There, Mindy rented a cabin cruiser and they spent the day cruising around, drinking beer and smoking weed. They worked their way to the western edge of a large island that stood in the middle of the lake and anchored the boat about two hundred yards offshore. This was by far the emptiest portion of the lake. They ate a picnic lunch on the bow of the boat and then retired to the cabin where they stripped off their bathing suits and spent an hour pleasuring each other in a variety of ways.
After enjoying their after-sex smokes and drinking another beer — by now they were both quite intoxicated — Mindy suggested they jump in the water to wash themselves off.
"Let's do it," Jake agreed, standing and picking up his swimming trunks.
Mindy scoffed at him. "Don't be a puss," she said. "There's no one around. Let's swim naked."
And before he could protest she walked out of the cabin, perched herself on the edge of the boat, and dove into the water on the island side.
Jake looked around outside and saw no other signs of human habitation within a mile. "What the hell?" he mumbled. He dropped his suit back on the deck and then cannonballed in after her.
They swam around in the warm water for about twenty minutes, splashing each other and playing like teenagers. At one point Jake picked her up by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulders, sending her crashing back into the water behind him. Finally, their energy waning, they floated near the stern of the boat, Jake holding onto the ladder with one hand while Mindy snuggled herself up against him, her bare breasts pushing into his chest. Soon they were kissing each other, the exchange starting out friendly and playful but quickly working its way up to passionate.
"I want you again," Mindy whispered as he fondled her breast with his free hand and she stroked his erection beneath the water.
"Let's go back inside," he told her.
"Lets."
They went back inside and had another extended session. Later, they had dinner and, though it was illegal, they slept the night away in the cabin, holding each other's naked body.