Chapter 10: Amanda and the Winstons

I played golf with my regular foursome early Saturday morning, but my mind was not on the game and the others took great advantage of my lack of concentration. Not only did I have to buy the rounds at the bar, I ended up giving each one my version of a second payday for the week.

“What’s with you, Matt? You’ve never played this poorly before. Where is your mind at?” I had known Jeremy for most of my life. He was older than me by a few years, and was experiencing some success in his career, but still considered himself to be a lifetime bachelor.

“I’m not sure you can do me much good in this department, old buddy,” I responded.

Stan Oliver, one of the others in our group said, “It’s gotta be a woman, Jeremy. That’s the only thing that would screw him up so badly.”

Wally Gibbons, the fourth man in our group, and the only one married, spoke with confidence. “Look at his eyes. See how blurry they are? That’s what falling for a woman does to you. First your eyes give out, then your will to stay single disappears and the next thing you know, you’re standing at the head of the church while she walks down the aisle towards you. He’s toast!”

“Gee, guys, thanks for the vote of confidence. You ought to think about staring a counseling service.”

“Who is she, Matt? Do we know her?”

“I don’t want to say anything about this yet. I have to get my head around it first.”

When I pulled up into the Winston’s driveway, I saw her overnight bag sitting on the front stoop. There was no doubt in my mind what it was that they imagined would happen in the next twenty-four hours. Amanda met me at the door, kissed me quickly and then waved good-bye to whomever was sitting in the living room.

“Have a wonderful evening and birthday celebration, Amanda.” It was her mother’s voice that we heard quite clearly.

This was only the third time I had seen Amanda close enough to actually pay attention to what she was wearing, and this time, she had abandoned her shorts for a pair of creamy white silk slacks. She wore a light blue blouse that had some sort of frilly decoration on the front and over that, she wore a dark blue jacket. I am not an expert in women’s clothes, but I can tell you that her outfit did not come from Wal-Mart or Sears. This ensemble had to be from one of the small shops on the Gold Coast of the city.

The effect was simple. With a natural beauty that cannot adequately be described and her golden hair cascading over the shoulders of the jacket, the look was a million dollars. I pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel, quickly went around the back to open the door on her side. As I extended my arm to her, several couples passing by at the time stopped and just looked at her. Their looks were of surprise and awe, and probably admiration as well. They remained where they had stopped until we had passed through the open doorway of the hotel where we were met in mid stride by a well-dressed gentleman who introduced himself as the hotel manager. He told me that there was no need for me to register, that it had all been done in advance, and that he would be delighted to escort us to our room.

Ours was a corner room, very high up, with one window pacing the downtown and another facing the lake. We stood looking out at the views and after a quick trip to the bathroom, Amanda said that she would really like to jus t walk around the city for a little while before dinner.

I’m not exactly sure how he arranged all this, but a person would have to be blind to not notice the two well dressed and well built gentlemen walking behind us. They were not obnoxious, but they were clearly obvious. I didn’t ask and they certainly didn’t tell, but I had no doubt what those bulges were under their arms. When we stopped to look at something or into a store window, they stayed back about ten paces. As we moved along, they continued their journey as well. Thinking about it later, I realized that with a woman as beautiful as Amanda, simply walking along in the city may require some sort of escort.

We returned to the hotel and as we walked through the lobby, once again all conversations stopped. People at the desk turned and watched as we passed, the concierge at his desk stopped talking in mid-sentence and our two “friends” slipped quietly into two seats near the doorway. I told a uniformed man that had run ahead of us to secure an elevator car that we would not be leaving the building again and that our two “friends” could relax and go home. He acknowledged that and said he appreciated our concern.

Dinner at the restaurant at the top of the hotel required male diners to wear coats and ties, not technically formal wear, but better than slacks and a button down shirt. Amanda said that she would need about an hour to get ready and suggested that she could meet me in the lobby when she was ready. I told her I would be in the lounge whenever she appeared.

Her arrival one hour later was hard to miss. As she emerged from the elevator, several ladies in the lobby began to applaud. That caught the attention of the lounge patrons who joined in the show of appreciation. Standing at the entrance, Amanda looked stunning in an elegant, age appropriate dress that not only highlighted her amazing beauty but also clearly defined her figure. As I hurried to her side, she blushed and then waved to the people applauding to say thank you.

Thankfully, the other diners at the roof top restaurant were more discreet. While conversations stopped as we walked to our table, we became “normal” people once we were seated. As we sat waiting for out dinner, I realized that wither hair worn as she had it, and her facial make-up, she had added three or four years to her age. To the others, we appeared simply as a young man with his stunningly attractive date. I wasn’t robbing the cradle.

I also learned how young ladies with perfect figures manage to maintain them at the dinner table. While I consumed my normal hearty portions, Amanda nibbled at two cheese stuffed mushroom caps, as a first course, followed by four tiny shrimp cocktails. Two bites of her filet coupled with three asparagus spears and a totally ignored lobster tail seemed to be her interpretation of dinner.

“Is that really all you are going to eat for dinner?”

“Yes, Matt. If I eat anything else, I will just feel heavy and sluggish, and I want to be able to be with you tonight.”

We stayed at our table for quite some time after dinner, looking out over the city and watching the airplanes coming in to land some distance away. I could not imagine creating a more blissful, relaxing, and enjoyable atmosphere to share with someone you admired. It was a real life storybook fairytale, and we were the main characters.

On the way out, our server asked me to just initial the bill for him, which I was happy to do. With the gratuity the total was just over five hundred dollars, which really didn’t surprise me until I thought about how little she actually ate. I was glad that her father was paying for this.

The elevator that served the restaurant did not stop at any of the hotel floors. It only had two stops: the restaurant and the lobby. Guests staying in the hotel had to return to the lobby and then ride a different elevator to their floor. As we stepped into the car from the restaurant, we were joined by two different well dressed gentlemen who politely asked if we had enjoyed our dinner and if we would be returning to our room for the night. I answered yes to both questions and thanked them for their concern.