Free Material Girl by Julia London

just need to get my things and a couple of files, that's all. Maybe Grandpa can go in for me,” Robin said absently.
    “I just can't believe you have been arrested,” Grandma said and shook her head again.
    Too exhausted to think, Robin stared out the window, felt her eyelids growing heavy. The next thing she heard was Grandpa, saying, “Uh-oh. Looks like a fire.”
    Robin opened her eyes and glanced out the front windshield. As her mind began to grasp that they were on the street of her office, she suddenly grabbed the back of Grandpa's seat. “Oh my God!” she cried. It couldn't be. Couldn't be! Robin quickly counted the floors of her office building and felt her heart sink to her toes. Oh yes, it could be, and it was. The LTI offices were on fire. Her office was on fire.
    In front of her, Grandpa shook his head. “Some fool probably left a cigarette burning or a computer on or something like that,” he opined, disgusted.
    Left something on… the suggestion was suddenly clawing at Robin's throat, choking her. The coffeepot.
    She had left the coffeepot on.

Chapter Five
    Grandma found Lucy in the growing crowd on the street and ascertained that everyone was accounted for and all right, and further, that the fire was contained to the LTI offices. Relieved that at least she hadn't killed anyone, Robin begged Grandpa to take her home before anyone started nosing around.
    Exactly how her world had suddenly disintegrated into so many little pieces was so far beyond her ability to comprehend that by the time Grandpa eased into the circular drive in front of her house, she was seriously contemplating a trip to the roof of the Enron building and a swan dive off the side. Her father, her job, her arrest, her office—God, she was living in a soap opera! She would not be surprised if Maury Povich leapt out from behind the bushes to inform her she was pregnant with her lover's cousin's uncle.
    As it was, she practically had to arm wrestle Grandma to keep her from coming in.
    “You need to call your mom and let her know you're all right,” Grandma said. “We'll come in with you—”
    “I'll call, I promise!” Robin said, and dove out the door,
    slammed it shut and popped in front of Grandma's window before anyone could take one Easy-Spirited step toward her house. “Right now, I just want to take a bath and crawl into bed and sleep until the next century. Okay?”
    Grandma sighed with exasperation; Grandpa waved. “Okeydokey!” he said cheerfully. “We'll check on you later.”
    “T hank s,” Robin murmured and stepped away from the tank as Grandpa checked his side-view mirror before carefully nudging into gear. He turned his attention to navigating the rather wide drive as Grandma hung out the window. “Take an aspirin!” she shouted. “It will help you—”
    Who knows what else she might have said-—Grandpa suddenly swerved, knocking Grandma back inside the tank.
    When Robin was sure they were gone, she headed for the back of the house. Her car was still impounded (another helpful clerk had informed her that for a mere $150, she could get her car on Monday), and she had no keys. But she had, at one point, possessed the presence of mind to hide a key for an event such as this, only she figured it would be an event involving fabulous shoes, a man, and a smashing good evening. Now all she had to do was remember under which brick she had hid the damn thing.
    As she was attempting to dislodge a brick, she heard a motorcycle roar into her drive and looked up.
    Her heart climbed right into her throat; she was momentarily paralyzed by her astonishment. But once she got over her distraction of A, the thick, dark brown hair he revealed as he removed his do-rag; B, the tight fit of his jeans; and C, the vague feeling that she knew him, she suddenly gave a small shriek of surprised indignation that this… this sexual pervert predator had followed her all the way from the jail to her house!
    The man stuffed his do-rag