Chapter 4

My personal life changed in mid-September of my junior year. I was at a mixer hosted by a fraternity my high school friend Chase belonged to when the woman who would change my life flowed through the room. I followed her with my eyes, as did every other male in the room. She was tall, 5 foot 8 inches, with long blonde hair, steel blue eyes, firm D-Cups, and long, healthy legs with 4-inch stiletto heels that held my gaze.

Then she turned, walked up to me, and spoke, “Like what you see?”

Wow, she chose me over all the jocks and smooth-talking lounge lizards. So I might as well take a shot with my suave demeanor and charming personality.

“Absolutely! I have a breathtaking view of two blue eyes that can only be surpassed by the beauty of the sun peeking above the horizon on a clear morning.”

“Are you a frustrated English major who writes trashy romance novels on the side?”

“Touché, mademoiselle. However, I’m majoring in Aeronautical and Astronautical Engineering with a double minor. So let me guess, with those piercing eyes, you must be a medical major.”

“Aren’t you just charming? No, Forensic Accounting is my academic path.”

“Well, now that we’ve established that we both have very high IQs, would you like to leave this boring party and go somewhere to talk?”

“Do you live on campus?”

“No, I own a house nearby.”

My God, she’s hot, Marty, don’t blow it, listen carefully when she speaks and answer without sounding like an idiot.

“Oh, you own your own house?” Her smile was causing my feet to melt, and I had to place my hand on the back of a chair to keep me upright.

“It’s my college pad, only 3,500 square feet, but big enough to get me through college, and then I’ll sell it when I go back home to work for my dad. He cosigned the purchase agreement for me when I arrived at Palo Alto, loaned me the standard down payment, and I signed a note to repay him with interest thirty days after graduating.”

“You must have a hefty mortgage to live around here.”

“Do you want to run a credit bureau on me?”

“Maybe I already ran one, although if I had to guess, it’s in the 800 range. Am I close?”

I’m sure she was guessing, I hope. “Very impressive; it’s 806, but who’s counting. Since you checked me out, would you like to see my etchings?”

“Not original, but okay. Do you have a car nearby?”

“We can walk; I only live three blocks away.” I looked around the room for Chase but quickly gave up, offered my right arm to this goddess, and escorted her outside through the deafening silence in the room.

As we walked, she questioned me like a detective grilling a suspect. “Where are you from?”

“Greenville, South Carolina. My Uncle Bob and my dad own ‘Stevens Aerospace and Defense,’ a contractor working for NASA and the Department of Defense. I have three sisters, two married, and two nieces.”

We walked a little farther, and she spoke, “No family still alive; my parents died in a plane crash when I was two, and a couple who couldn’t have kids adopted and raised me. Then, a week after I graduated high school, they died in a head-on car crash with a bus. Stanford had already sent me an acceptance letter, so with two partial scholarships, money from my parent’s life insurance, and the money from selling their house, I had enough for four years of school, housing, and food. I loved living in Portland, but I’m glad I came here.”

“Why, because I’m here?”

“No, dummy, because it’s a great school with a great Accounting & Business Management department.”

“Well, no more talking; we’re here.” I led her up my driveway and pointed toward my garage in the backyard, “That’s my three-car garage, even though I only have two vehicles there.”

Marty, you dope, you’re blowing it.

I took her left hand, and we strolled up three steps to the porch and the front door. The motion detectors turned on the porch and yard lights, illuminating the front of the house. When we reached the front door, I pushed the red button on my key fob, opening the front door.

“Oh, You have a servant working for you.”

“Nope, nobody here, just you and me, some electrical wiring, and my programmable key fob. It just occurred to me we have not introduced ourselves. I am Marty, and my last name is Stevens, which you already know. And you are?”

“Elizabeth, just Liz for now.”

“May I offer you a non-alcoholic beverage before taking you on a private tour?”

“I’d like a ginger ale if you have any?”

“In the kitchen, please retake my arm, and I shall escort you there like the southern gentleman I strive to emulate.”

“Aren’t you sweet?”

“Here we are. Glasses are to the left of the sink.” I opened the refrigerator, took out Sprite and ginger ale cans, and handed her the Canada Dry. “Open your own so that you won’t worry about, well, you know what evil things can happen to a beautiful woman,”

I gave her the grand tour, trying to impress her, while she sipped her ginger ale. Based on the oohs and aahs coming from her kissable lips, she seemed impressed with me; okay, maybe it was my house, not me.

“And lastly, the living room. Please have a seat; you may ask me anything bouncing around your pretty little head.”

She peppered me with personal questions but saved the one she really wanted to ask for last. “What’s your mortgage payment.”

I laughed. “I got a deal on the house because it was a foreclosure. It was listed for 3.1 million, and I offered them 2.4 million. The bank accepted my offer.” She seemed impressed, so I continued, “To answer your question, let’s make a friendly wager, Liz. If you can guess an amount within five thousand dollars of my monthly house payment, over or under, I’ll wait on you any Friday through Sunday as your manservant, and you shall be the lady of the house.”