Chapter 19: Meeting Mrs. Jonathon Huntington Smyth

We spent the rest of the day sightseeing. She took me around all her favorite places. And actually we had fun. She treated me as an equal, not as an underling. It ended too soon when we had to return to the hotel to dress for dinner and the show.

After shaving and showering, my valet had arranged for a hair stylist to "fix" my hair after my shower. The stylist worked about an hour on my hair. It's funny but it only took me a couple of minutes when I combed and dried it. When the stylist got all done I had to admit that it did look better than when I just combed it.

My next stop was back with my valet to get dressed for dinner. This time he had only one outfit laid out for me. It was a tux with all the accessories. By the time he was done, even I was impressed. This was the fourth time I had ever worn a tux and the first three were when I got married. All three times they were rented outfits and nowhere near as nice as this one was.

He asked, politely, exactly what function Angela was letting me attend with her. I guess I should have been offended, but in truth he was right. I explained that we were going to the opening night of a new musical that was starting next month on Broadway as VIP's.

He looked at me and said. "In that case," and then he spent the next 15 minutes pulling, patting, brushing and all sorts of other things to my outfit. I guess he felt that if I wasn't perfect it would reflect on him.

We left the bedroom and met Angela in the living room, waiting for us. She wasn't exactly pissed, but you could tell that she wasn't used to being kept waiting. She looked as if she was about to tell me something when the phone rang. It was the head bellman, our car was here.

I loved that driver, his timing was perfect. I wondered how much I should tip him for his perfect timing.

Five minutes later we were exiting the lobby when I saw "our" car. It was an antique Rolls Royce Phantom. The driver was standing at the rear door holding it open for us. The car was silver and his uniform matched perfectly. I guess I was awed because as I ducked to enter the car he whispered, "Your mouth is still open, Sir. I'd suggest you close it. If you're nice to Angela I might let you drive it some time."

"Deal," was all I said.

There was a very nice restaurant near the theater we had reservations for dinner in. As we pulled up in front, I couldn't help but notice the long line of well dressed people waiting to gain entrance.

"Angela, honey the place looks full. Should we try somewhere else?"

She just smiled at me as the limo pulled up on front. The maître d' popped out of the restaurant and opened our door. He helped Angela out and hugged her and welcomed her back to his little restaurant.

He then helped me exit, calling me by name, and welcomed me also. I was very glad he skipped the hug and kiss when greeting me. As we were being escorted into the dining room and back to a small private room, I heard some of the dinners asking each other, "Who are they?" I must admit it felt good to be noticed.

I didn't notice them, but they saw me, or I should say Judith, my ex-wife did. She was sitting with her rich husband, Mr. Jonathon Huntington Smyth and another couple. I guess I didn't notice them because they were occupying one of those very poor tables near the kitchen doors.

Not exactly the place one would want to sit for a nice dinner.

Angela and I had a marvelous meal with more waiters in attendance than were in the main dining area. (I swear, or so it seemed) When our meal was completed our coats were returned to us. We weren't required to stand in line at the coat check. The maître d' helped Angela on with her coat and adjusted my scarf.

The Rolls was waiting at the curb for us. Our driver was ignoring the nasty looks from people trying to get a cab while his vehicle was right in the way.

Arriving at the theater, we again stopped at the front door. This time our door was opened by a theater employee with a clip board. He politely asked our names and checked them off his list.

"Welcome Mr. & Mrs. Holmes, please follow me." he instructed.

As the VIP doors were opened for us I glanced at all the people waiting in the cold to gain entrance. I remembered how those rich people treated me when I was just a cop. I thought, "Payback's a bitch." As I let the door close behind me.

We were escorted to a private set of box seats. Our coats were taken and drinks provided. As we sat, we watched the peons filling in below. Like I said before, "I could get used to this life."