Prologue:
George Thomas was feeling a bit dejected and he wasn't exactly sure why he felt that way; this trip was going to make him a load of money. He could only conclude that the prospect of seven to ten days in Dayton, Ohio, where he didn't know a single person, must be the reason for his feeling a little down.
George's gloomy demeanor was soon to brighten considerably, as he was about to embark on the wildest, most exciting week of his life. He would soon learn that Dayton was not a town to be disparaged and in a week's time it would become one of his favorite places on earth.
BOOK I -- ICE CREAM SUNDAY
Chapter 1
George Thomas thrived on being with and talking with friends; he also enjoyed finding new friends. He worked extremely hard to keep his computer software business successful, and when work was done, he liked to relax in the company of people he could open up with. He was convinced that this sort of leisure gave him the energy and ideas that he needed to stay on top of an extremely competitive business scene.
At forty-two, George had been married twice. His first marriage ended because his marketing career and extensive travel placed too many temptations in his path. He was not faithful to Ginny and with so much separation, their interests drifted apart anyway. After fourteen years, when their son Bill entered junior high, they had split up amicably. Now Bill was a sophomore in college and Ginny was married again, and seemed quite happy.
George's second marriage lasted barely two years. George met Charlene in a bar where she was entertaining; she was ten years younger than he was. They hit it off from the start and marriage soon seemed attractive to both of them. George had just started his own company and it was doing very well. He was on top of the world and thought he was ready to settle down for life; but his business started taking up too much time as he needed to stay involved with the marketing to land bigger and bigger accounts. Charlene became disenchanted and was easy prey for a younger, more attentive man.
George was starving when he arrived at the Dayton Hilton. He checked in at reception, carted his luggage to the elevator and then to room 505; he changed from his suit into a polo shirt and Dockers and headed back downstairs to the hotel restaurant. He normally tried to find better fare than hotel restaurants but this evening he didn't feel up to going out; his trip from Tucson had taken most of the day. His departure was delayed four hours by maintenance problems on his United Airlines flight to St. Louis. That meant missing his connection to Dayton and having to find another one. After nearly three hours in the St. Louis airport he boarded a DC-9 for Dayton and arrived at 6:30 PM. Of course it seemed like 4:30 to him so he wasn't tired, just disgusted and hungry.
The restaurant was totally empty when he entered; there was not a single customer in it. In fact he asked the hostess at the desk outside the entrance if they were really open; she assured him that they served until eleven. George joking asked her if she could find him a quiet corner and she smiled and guided him to a booth that was in the very back corner of the second and smaller of the two dining rooms. She apologized that it was an extraordinarily slow evening, "Even the bar is nearly empty."
George sat so he was facing the room as he inspected the surroundings after the hostess handed him a menu and walked away. His corner was less lit than much of the room. The décor was dark wood booths and tables with an English tavern look.
A young waitress walked toward George's table; her appearance invoked George's interest immediately. Not only did she have astonishing beauty but her brief outfit highlighted her looks provocatively. Her look was that of a sixteen-year-old but George knew that she must be older to be a waitress in a restaurant that served alcohol. She had long, light blond hair in a ponytail and bright blue eyes, a Swedish princess. She was dressed like a cheerleader in a starched white blouse and short, pleated plaid skirt that covered less than a quarter of her long, slender, tanned, bare legs. The skirt was not as full as most cheerleaders would wear but it wasn't sheath tight either. Her feet were encased in white tennis shoes, no visible anklets; she presented a gorgeous and enticing picture as she approached George's table.
The girl introduced herself as April. "I'll be your waitress for the evening and I hope I can make your dinner a pleasure. Please ask me any questions about the menu and don't hesitate to let me know if there is anything that I can do to serve you better."
George could think of a few things immediately but he just nodded and said, "Thank you, April, I will." Then as an afterthought, "I didn't realize this is a sports bar."
"What makes you think it is?"
"You're dressed like a cheerleader, aren't you?"
"No, - I'd have to have a letter on or something if I were a cheerleader."
"I guess so. -- You look very nice."
"Thank you. - I'll let you look at the menu for a few minutes unless you know what you want. I can get you a drink from the bar, appetizers, whatever you wish."
"I'll start with a seven and seven, Seagram's please. I'll have to look at the menu to get any farther than that."
She smiled her acknowledgment and turned and walked away. He watched the way her hips moved in the short skirt as she walked and his mind imagined what was under the garment. The brief conversation with April confirmed what George had always firmly believed about beautiful females. His experience was that the most beautiful women usually had a lack of intellect. On first impression April did not seem very bright and for George this impression only enhanced her attractiveness.
George opened the menu and found that a dish named Veal Alfredo was the house specialty. It sounded delicious and he searched for appropriate appetizers. He chose the escargot and found that the wine list had a nice pinot noir in a half bottle. He was all set to order when April appeared with his cocktail.
"Are you ready to order? - I don't want to rush you."
"Why don't you give me another ten minutes and then bring me a refill on the drink. I'll order then. I have all evening and I want to enjoy my dinner. -- You're very beautiful," he repeated his earlier compliment.
April smiled and blushed. "Thank you sir, -- I'll be back in ten minutes." She walked away and then noticed a booth across the room that hadn't been cleared. There was a serving tray on a stand nearby and the young waitress grabbed the stand and tray and set them beside the cluttered table. She began moving the dirty dishes onto the serving tray and then stooped to pick up the loaded tray and headed for the kitchen. George watched her work with interest, hoping that she would have to lean over and give him a nice look up her skirt. He was disappointed; the skirt shifted as she worked but was never raised as high as his naughty hopes.
A minute later though, April reappeared with a damp rag and towel; this time George got the view he was hoping for. Instead of sliding into the booth to wipe the far end of the table, the girl stood at the end of the table and leaned over it, reaching out with the damp rag in her hand. She had to lift one foot off the floor and lean out over the table and in doing so her little plaid skirt was pulled high on her thighs and her legs were apart and George got an unbelievable view of the crotch of her snow white panties. He had a strong urge to tear across the room and slam his hand between her legs, but he resisted. Instead he began plotting how he might accomplish that goal more discretely.
April finished wiping the table with the damp cloth and George thought the show was over. It wasn't. She repeated the act with the dry towel, wiping the table and giving George and even better view up her little skirt. As she stood back up from this second exhibition, a wild idea popped into George's head.
Chapter 2
When April returned to his table in the prescribed ten minutes time, George had extracted a ten-dollar bill and a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and laid them side by side on the edge of the table. April spotted them immediately and gave a quizzical look to her customer. She set his drink down with a new napkin and picked up the empty glass. "Are you ready to order appetizers or dinner?"
"I think I've found what I want. How is the veal?"
"It's our special as you see and it's wonderful; people rave about it all the time. I myself prefer seafood so I have only tried the veal once. It's really very delicious."
George related his choices, appetizer, entree, and wine, and told the girl that he would probably select a dessert after he found out how filled he felt after eating dinner. April jotted some notes on her note pad and smiled at him again. "Great! I'll be right out with your appetizers and some bread." She glanced again at the two bills lying on the table.
