Chapter 13
Sea Dreams at The Marina, Redondo Beach
The silver-gray SUV pulled up to the door and William, one of the two security guards outside, opened my door.
"Good evening, Miss Alessa. I hope you had a pleasant drive in."
"Why, thank you for asking. It's been fine."
Everyone had been so much nicer that evening, even more so than they usually were. Jimmy had been so attentive to me the last several days. Fresh flowers were on my desk every morning, chocolates on my pillow every night.
Jimmy, wearing a new black tuxedo, walked around the car and offered his arm. With my teased out curly golden hair and six-inch heels I had towered over him.
The evening had just started and I was enjoying every moment of it. I moved toward him and they entered the restaurant.
Moving forward to the desk we were greeted by a young woman with the biggest smile I had ever seen except for the one time Jimmy had done me 'doggy' in front of the bedroom mirror.
"Good evening, welcome to 'Sea Dreams'. If you would follow me, please, I will take you to your table."
She escorted them across an already full dining room to a private dining room with a small dance floor.
Two more of our bodyguards waited outside the room keeping a watchful eye while another man was in the kitchen. As quiet as they were there were some glances from the diners who were wondering just who they were.
Our table, the only one in the room, had a view of the Pacific just feet away through the glass. The sun was setting on what had turned out to be a long day on an emotional roller coaster. Several events had taken place earlier that had me upset... It wasn't anything that he had done, especially, it had just been one of those strange days that arrives in every girl's life at some point or another.
The light blue of the sky slowly changed to a glorious red-orange as the sun finally disappeared into the darkness of evening and the coastline to the north was ablaze in light as far as the eye could see.
That view still lives in my heart after all this time.
After helping me to my chair Jimmy sat down and looked at me.
"Your face, your wondrous, glorious face, it's the face I have looked for. I never really understood until now..." he said.
I suppose I was softly lit by the table candles romantically enough for him; light and shadow moved across the table and just looking at him I could see he was aroused.
When I had been growing up I always hoped that I would have that effect on at least one person who would want me and love me but as I had grown older, I began to lose hope until finally I was working for Kevin and felt the chance was gone forever.
I looked around the empty room. "Where are those people you said we were meeting? They seem a little late."
"Oh, I suppose they'll be here sooner or later. Let's find out."
He put his hand up to his ear as if holding a phone.
"Yes, good evening, this is Jim Crowell. Where are you? What! An elephant escaped from the zoo and sat on your car? Oh, my! What, then it ate your wife's orchids in the greenhouse and jumped into your pool!
So, I guess you're not coming, right? Well, see you some other time.
Let's see what the menu has to offer."
I looked at him. His serious look... he could no longer hold the charade and broke up laughing.
There never had been anyone coming. It was just the two of us... for dinner... alone... away from everyone at Malibu. This is the first time we ever had been alone like that.
That had been our first date! He had been so nice to me so those last few days...just as he promised my life would be. Each day had been more...
Looking through the menu I had been unable to decide between a steak and the lobster. The day's earlier events had shaken my emotions so much that the simple task of choosing what to eat seemed beyond me.
I had spent the morning talking to the Gylers, discussing what I should do about so many different things.
I set the menu down, not really looking at it; the words were swimming before my eyes.
After knocking on the entryway to the room, the maitre de came over to welcome us to the restaurant and asked if we desired wine with our dinner. Jimmy nodded for me to choose; he said it was my night and it had to be perfect.
I named the first wine that came to mind and within minutes the man returned with an excellent Chianti for my approval.
Barely tasting the wine I noticed that Jim, behind his usual joyful mood, displayed a nervousness I had only seen that day in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park.
Now, instead of talking he was unusually quiet.
The brave colonel whose exploits had become legendary among the people working with him and almost mandatorily committed to memory by his former military personnel was afraid. He was more nervous than I was.
What was he afraid of? Afraid of me? Or, afraid of something he wanted to do... needed to do but couldn't come out and just say it
"Would you order for us? I seem to be a little light-headed at the moment."
He smiled at me as he had done all week but I could tell it had become somehow different now, more personal, more intense, saying to me 'all is right with the world, you have nothing to worry about.'
Yet, I could still feel the tension between us.
"Well, Jordan," Jimmy said, "what do you suggest? We're a little hungry tonight but I don't think we want anything too heavy."
He glanced in my direction, seeking an approval.
I nodded in agreement, not really listening, lost in my own emotional world.
"Let me take care of it, Mr. Crowell, Miss Lane. I am sure that you will be most satisfied this evening and for many evenings to come."
If only that had been true my life would have been complete.
With the mention of my name I looked at the maitre de strangely. How had he known our names that night?
Jordan looked nervously at me then at Jimmy seeking some guidance. The colonel, I sometimes still think of him that way, motioned for him to leave. Gratefully the man left the table and headed back toward the kitchen realizing the huge mistake he had made.
Surprised, I now looked at Jimmy who had regained his composure and said, "I suppose he remembered from the reservations. But why did he just leave? But how did you know his name?"
And then I remembered, Mary Tybal said they never made reservations in their own names because of security.
Then, I knew something was going on that night but naively I just didn't understand what.
While I continued to wonder about it, fresh, hot sourdough bread was brought to the table still steaming from the oven. With it were balls of butter nested on a bed of shaved ice in a shallow silver bowl.
Glasses of water filled with crushed ice arrived, just the way I liked. How did they know? I asked myself at the time.
Jim had broken off a piece of bread, buttered it and then carefully offered it to my lips. Entranced by such an unexpected and romantic gesture I parted my lips to receive the warm buttered morsel.
