Tag Archives: Romance

The Whistleblower

My alarm clock is ringing incessantly. I reach over and slam my fist down on it, hard to shut it up.  Slowly rising from my bed and stumbling over to my bedroom window. When I pushed back the curtains at that moment, I realized it was a mistake because the light from the sun felt like it was burning through my retina directly into my brain.

I cup my hands around my eyes and look out onto my balcony. I live on the fifteenth floor of my apartment building, and usually, I can see the apartment building across from mine. But today, I only see a blaring, ungodly light. And then I see red dots floating in front of my eyes.

When I first moved to Philadelphia, I would wake up at six o’clock on the dot. I was excited by the prospect of a new day, a new beginning. I don’t feel that way now. I anticipate more of the same. The same being, nothing good happens to me, and I will fall more deeply into debt. As it is, I have been eating Ramen noodle soup for the past three weeks. I will probably start talking in Chinese soon.

Italian Restaurant

If I don’t find a job soon, I’m not going to be able to pay my bills, including my rent. I will be out on the sidewalk along with all my belongings. And then the real nightmare begins I will have to move back in with my parents. Whereupon I will lose my will to live.

Oh, you think I’m exaggerating. Well, believe me, I’m not. My parents have been retired for years and live out in the middle of nowhere. The closest neighbors are an hour away. The town, if you can call it that, is another half hour from there.

They bicker from the first minute they wake up in the morning until lights out at nine PM. It’s not that they hate each other. It’s because they both want to be the boss. When they were working, they both were supervisors at their jobs. My father was the supervisor at a Budd plant in Philadelphia. It was a factory that manufactured metal parts for automobiles, railways, and even the space industry. He retired early in 2006 when his company was sold and integrated with another company. And he was laid off. He never really recovered from that loss. That job was his life.

And then there’s my mother. She was principal of one of the largest high schools in Center City, Philly.  As a new teacher, she taught math in middle school and then taught it in high school. Then she earned her master’s degree and her Principal certification. This was after working for over twenty years in the Philadelphia School system. She was forced to retire when they cut the funding of her school. She tried to turn the school around, and no one was interested in upgrading an old high school in what became an area with high crime and poverty.

So,  they are living out in the middle of nowhere, trying to manage each other. And there’s no way in hell that I’m going to become their new project. And be supervised into whatever it is they think I should be. I worked too long and too hard to return to the boondocks. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my parents, but I don’t want to ever live with them again. Although separately, they are decent but driven people. I can’t live with them. No way, no how, nada.

And that brings it all back to me. I have a little problem that I don’t seem able to overcome. I‘m incapable of telling a lie. Not a little lie, not a big lie, not a little white lie. No matter what the circumstances are, I’m simply incapable of telling a lie. That’s why I find myself in the fix I’m in now.

Through a series of incidences not worth repeating, I found out that my boss, let’s call him Little Boss, and his immediate superior, let’s call him Big Boss, were in cahoots and were screwing the company big time out of money. As soon as I became aware, I knew I should keep my mouth shut. But I couldn’t. Every minute of every single day, I had an impulse to spill my guts and tell the president of my company what was going down.

I know that if Little Boss or Big Boss finds out that I’m ratting them out, they will find a way of getting rid of me. And if it were possible, they would get rid of me permanently as in cement boots and dumped in the deep, blue sea. They were working with the mob. I kid you not, the mob out of Atlantic City.

All the same, I couldn’t sit out the whole situation out with my lips zipped. Every day I woke up with a compulsion to squeal, become a whistleblower, tell the god’s honest truth. It’s an affliction I’ve had all my life. I have to tell the truth, and it’s hell, I tell you, hell.

For example, I hit a dry spell for a while and didn’t have a date for almost six months. I was lonely, bored, and frustrated. And here’s why. Every time I meet a woman on a date, as soon as  I set eyes on her, I blab out whatever I notice about her, no matter what it is.

My buddy Fred set me up with a young woman that works in his building, He’s a married guy, but the women flock to him like flies on shit. If you don’t mind me using a crude analogy. But he loves his wife and never stops bragging about her, even though she is plain as a mud fence. She’s charming and intelligent and funny as hell but that face. They have been happily married for fifteen years. They have two beautiful kids. Fred is a happy guy.

Anyway, he keeps talking about this gal named Eileen, who is a friend of his wife’s, and how she’s perfect for me, intelligent, has a great sense of humor, fun to be with, upbeat and attractive. I’m somewhat reluctant to go out with someone he thinks is attractive because he says the same thing about his wife, and as I said, she is plain as white bread.

But finally, I agreed to go out with her. My buddy Fred gave me her phone number, and I gave her a call that night. Her name is Eileen, and her picture on Facebook is amazing. She has long blond hair and the face of an angel. She’s tall and slender. She looks like she could be a model. She agrees to go out with me. I clean out my bank account and bring the one credit card I have with some credit left on it. I make a reservation at the nicest restaurant I can afford and have money left for a tip for the waiter. I get my haircut and wear my favorite shirt and khakis. I take a good look in the mirror. And I can honestly say I never looked better.

I’m about five minutes late arriving at the restaurant. As I walk through the red door of Fiorella’s, I see her sitting at the third table on the left, and a waiter is standing next to her, taking her order for a drink. She is amazing. I can’t stop staring at her. I’m transfixed by her perfection, ivory skin, smile, and quiet laughter when the waiter tells her a joke. It’s like a dream come true. Finally, finally, my bad luck streak is over. My luck has changed.

I walk slowly over to the table so I can take her in. I know that this is the woman I was always meant to be with for the rest of my life. Just like that, in a moment, my life is turning around. She’s going to be my good luck charm. As I arrive at the table, she looks at me. And I feel like I’m melting under her candid stare.” Hello, Eileen.” I hope you will accept my apologies for keeping you waiting. I had a hard time finding a parking spot and had to walk several blocks. I should have considered that might happen and left earlier.”

“What? Oh, that’s no problem. Kyle. I just arrived a few minutes ago myself. The traffic in Philadelphia on a Friday night is quite heavy. I’ve been hearing about you from Frederick for a couple of years. And I’m glad I finally have the opportunity to meet you. Frederick is one of my favorite people in the world. Such a decent and kind, hard-working guy. He and his wife seem so happy. I envy them.”

As I sit down, I practically drown in her deep, brown eyes. I tell her a story about how Fred and I met in college. And he was the studious one, and I was drinking a lot of beer and partying until my Junior year when Fred talked to me one on one. He told me I better start getting serious because at the rate I was going, I wasn’t going to get anywhere in life. And for whatever reason, he got through to me. And I started cracking the books.”

“Well, he is one of the nicest people I know. He never has an unkind thing to say about anyone.”

I stared at her for a moment and thought, should I tell her about my little quirk? Although I couldn’t imagine what negative thing I could possibly say about her. She seems perfect to me in every way.

The waiter comes over to our table and hands us the menus. This restaurant is a well-known Italian eatery. And I always get the lasagna or the meatballs and ravioli. “Well, I think I’ll go with the Ravioli and meatballs.”

“And you, mam?”

“I think I’ll have the same. I haven’t had it in a long time.” As the waiter walks away, Eileen says,” god, I hate being called Mam. It makes me feel so old. Madam would be better. For that matter, “Hey, you. Would be better.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would look at you and think you’re old.”

“Well, thanks, but if the person is a twenty-something, they think everyone is old. What they don’t realize is how time flies by, and before you know it, someone is calling you sir or mam.”

“You know your, right. The other day I was getting gas at one of the gas stations that doesn’t have self-service, and the kid manning the pump said, “can I help you, sir?”

And I look all around to see who he’s talking to. And then I realize he’s talking to me. Not a good moment.”
As they eat their dinner, Kyle keeps staring over at Eileen. He wonders why such a beautiful woman isn’t married or engaged or have every man she meets fall in love with her. So, what kind of work do you do, Eileen?” After the words escape from his mouth, he knows it’s a mistake. Because she will probably ask him the same question, and he will have to tell her the truth. That he’s currently out of work.

“Oh, I’m an elementary school teacher. I have always loved being our kids. I come from a big family with older brothers and sisters; by the time I was ten, I was an aunt. And I love being around them. So, when the time came for me to go to college, I  knew I wanted to be a teacher. And I love every moment of it. How about you?”

“Well, actually, right now, I’m out of work. I was fired recently. I worked in the accounting department of a big corporation in downtown Philly. And I became aware of some serious graft taking place in the upper echelon of the corporate offices. And I reported it. I confronted them as well, and they fired me and made sure that every business that might consider hiring me wouldn’t.”

“Oh wow, that’s terrible. It’s so unfair that a man of principle could lose his job and get blackballed from other jobs because he is a man of integrity. Do you have any idea what you can do about it? I know it is against the law for former employers to tell the reason why someone is fired, although they don’t have to give a good reference for employees.”

“That’s true, but since they are connected, they seem to have a great deal of influence in the Philadelphia offices and South Jersey, for that matter.”

“What about looking in Delaware that isn’t that far from the Philly area?”

“That’s true. I hadn’t thought of looking there.”

“As a matter of fact, one of my Uncles owns a fairly large corporation that deals in real estate and mortgages; maybe I could ask him about a possible job opening. I’ll give him a call and tell him about you. Let me write down his contact information and email, and you could send out a query for possible jobs and ask about any current openings.”

“You would do that. That would be amazing. But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you in some way, Eileen.”

“Kyle, it was my idea. You’re not taking advantage of me at all. Put that right out of your mind.”

“Thanks, that would be awesome. Would you like some dessert and a glass of wine before we leave?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, Kyle.”

Kyle motions for the waiter to come over. Can we each have a piece of your wonderful Tiramisu and a glass of Lambrusco?”

“Of course, coming right up, sir.”

After they finish their dessert and sip their wine, Kyle decides to ask Eileen to take a walk around town. “Eileen, I’ve had such a wonderful time. I hate to end it. Would you like to take a walk? It’s beautiful around the city at night.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful. I seldom come to Philly at night. I would love that.”

After Kyle pays the tab and leaves a tip, they start to get ready to leave, Kyle stands up and waits for Eileen to get up from her seat, but she seems hesitant to get up. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, yes, I have something to confess to you. I hope you won’t be disappointed?’

“Disappointed. I can’t imagine what you could possibly say or do that would upset me?”

“Well, I don’t know how to explain it, but you’ll see soon enough.”

“What is it? I’m sure Eileen is not as bad as you think it is?”

“OK, here it goes.”

Kyle stares at her; he can’t imagine what she’s so worried about. And then, Eileen stands up and steps out of the booth and into the aisle. He stares at her and sees nothing out of the ordinary. He looks at her from the top of her beautiful blond head and at her gorgeous face. And all the way down to her feet. And then he is dumbfounded.

Eileen looks at his shocked face and then waits for him to say something.”

“My god, you have the biggest feet I’ve ever seen on a woman in my whole life. They’re twice as big as my feet.

“Yes, I know. My feet never stopped growing until I was about twenty; by then, they were really big. There wasn’t anything they could do about it. So yes, I have really big feet. I have to have all my shoes made by hand. But other than that, I’m perfectly normal.”

“You’re right. Your feet are enormous. But you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met inside and out. Shall we go for our walk now?”

“Really, I would love that. Let’s go. You know Fred warned me in advance that you always tell the truth, and sometimes you are blunt about it.”

“Yes, that’s true. I’ve never been able to lie at all. I always tell the truth. So, when I say you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met inside and out. It’s the truth.”

Shall we go?”

Kyle takes her hand to his lips and kisses her gently, “Yes, let’s do that. I think this is going to be the first step together, but there is a happy future to look forward to, don’t you?”

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THE NIGHT IS STILL YOUNG

It’s February 14th, and believe it or not, I’m going on a blind date. I gave up long ago on finding Mr. Right. Now I’m willing to consider Mr. Not That Bad. I recently celebrated my thirty-fifth birthday. Please don’t try telling me I’m not that old. It’s true. I’m too young to apply for Social Security, and I wouldn’t qualify for the Senior Special at my favorite restaurant, that’s for sure. But when I walk into the room, I’m not turning anyone’s head anymore. Unless there trying to look at the twenty-something behind me.

My date asked me to meet him at his favorite restaurant. A Greek Restaurant called “Taziki’s.” I pull my 2003 Mitsubishi Galant into the last parking spot next to a pristine red sports car with wire wheels. I glance at the back of the car as I pass it. And it bore the legend of Alfa Romeo. I don’t know a whole lot about cars, but even I can recognize class and style. “Wow,” I said out loud. I wonder who owns such a car and would be eating at this place.

I’m ten minutes late because I changed my dress five times before I left my apartment. I want to look sexy but not cheap. Available but not free for the taking. If you know what I mean, I wore a touch of mascara and red lipstick. I’ve always thought my hair was my best feature. It’s black and hangs down to the middle of my back. I wearing it down. I finally decide to wear my sleeveless, turquoise silk tunic that hits just above my knees. My date asked me to look for someone who held a red flower; he didn’t say what kind.

As I pull open, the doorbell chimes announcing my arrival.  I notice everyone within hearing distance looks in my direction. For some reason, this makes me feel flustered, and I feel myself blushing—something I hadn’t done since high school. And then I see a man sitting in a booth next to the wall waving at me. I’m not sure how he knows I’m his date.

I walk towards him, and I see him stand and wait by the table. He’s over six and a half feet tall. His hair is jet black and slightly curly. His eyes are green. As I step up to the table, he extends his hand out to me. He’s holding a single red Amaryllis. It is enormous and fragrant. Up close, he looks like a Greek god.

I take the flower and put it up to my nose, and the smell is intoxicating. I feel slightly dizzy. “Thank you, how beautiful, I’ve never seen one as large before, and the fragrance is amazing.

He is not handsome in the traditional way. But he is the most attractive man I ever saw, nonetheless. “I’m hoping that you’re Alexander. I’m Maria Caledonia.”

“Yes, of course, I’m Alexander. Will you have a seat? I have so looked forward to this moment. I hope you don’t mind me ordering for us. It’s somewhat presumptuous, but I know this restaurant so well. I practically grew up here.”

Really, you like Greek food that much?”

“Well, yes, of course, but my family owns this restaurant and several others.”

“Really, I’m sure the food is delicious. I’m curious how my friend Elizabeth knows you. She told me you were old friends, but I don’t remember her mentioning you before.”

“That’s probably because we knew each other as children.  Then when I was about to start high school, my family decided that they wanted me to go back to Greece to continue my education until I was ready to go to University.  When I came back, I decided to continue my studies, and I lived in New York several years ago.

“Oh, and then you reconnected with Elizabeth? Did you and Elizabeth ever date?”

“No, we have always been close but more like brother and sister. I was talking to her about my desire to find that special woman to spend my life with. I know it’s too soon to talk about this. I just wanted you to know that I’m not interested in casual dating.”

“Well, I understand that I’ve dated my share of men. I know the kind of person I would like to spend the rest of my life with. Perhaps we should take this one step at a time. And get to know each other.

“Elizabeth, I see our dinner is about to arrive. I hope you enjoy it. I thought we might take a walk after dinner. If you like?”

“A walk, that would be fine. It’s a beautiful evening for a walk.”

“Sir, Madame, here is your meal. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Aleixo. I’m sure it is perfection.”

“Elizabeth, once again, I apologize for ordering for you, but I hope you will love this dish as much as I do. It’s called Spanakopita. It is a spinach pie.

“Try it first, and let me know what you think.”

“Alexander, it smells delicious. Elizabeth takes her first bite. “Oh, this is wonderful. I love the combination of onions and cheese, and seasoned perfectly. And this crust is so light. Wonderful.

“Oh, I’m so pleased. I hope you will enjoy it. And wait until you taste dessert. I ordered the Greek lemon cake.”

“Alexander, the cake was heaven. Thank you, I’m so full, I don’t think I could eat another bite.”

“Oh, would you like some coffee or anything else to drink?”

“Thank you, no. I’m full. But I wouldn’t mind just sitting for a bit before we take that walk. Just to let the meal settle.”

“So, Elizabeth, while we’re sitting here, would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself?”

“Well. I’m afraid it isn’t that exciting. I grew up in a small town in New Jersey called Merchantville. My father was the principal of the public high school. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. I have to admit it was somewhat awkward when I was in high school, my father being the principal. But sometimes, it came in handy.

I have a younger brother. He’s studying for his master’s in psychology. He wants to be a counselor for at-risk kids in the inner city. Probably in Camden or Philadelphia. He’s twelve years younger than I am, so we didn’t really grow up together. He’s really a remarkable young man. I’m proud of him. I don’t get to see him often since he’s busy with school and a part-time job. My parents are still married, happily, I think.

“After college, I got hired as an editor for a book publisher. Nothing glamourous. These weren’t best sellers. They’re scientific journals. I’ve always been interested in science but couldn’t really settle on a field of study. But I love learning about it, so it seemed like a good fit. Since I have a secondary degree in journalism.

“How about you, Alexander? Do you work in the restaurant business with your family?”

“Actually, I’m part-owner. And I did manage several of them in the past, but now I’m more in an advisor capacity. I decided to devote the rest of my working career to trying to promote the changes we need to make to protect our climate. I do spend a great deal of my time in Washington.”

“Really, that’s wonderful. There are a great many scientific journals written about climate change. I hope you are making some positive changes.”

“Right now, it is an uphill battle. But let’s continue this serious conversation for a later time.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you like to take that walk now? It’s really a beautiful evening.”

“New York is such a beautiful city. I can’t imagine moving to the suburbs. The art museums, the theater, the symphony. If I could, I would spend every day of my life listening to music, and I would be a happy and content woman.

“Elizabeth, I’m so happy you love the symphony. I hold season tickets. And as a matter of fact, I have two tickets to the Matinee on May 20 for the opening of “Singing in The Rain.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. I would so love to attend that. I adore Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds in that movie. Such an extravaganza, the singing, the dancing. Just enthralling and so romantic, don’t you think, Alexander?”

“I do. I’m a romantic at heart. I would be thrilled if you would agree to go with me. I’m sorry it is a matinee, but in the evening, I’m often busy with one of the restaurants or In Washington.”

“Sorry, you have no need to be sorry. I accept. I would be overjoyed to attend the opening matinee concert. Over the moon, really, Alexander.”

“That’s wonderful, Elizabeth. How about we meet here on May 20th at noon for lunch, and then I will escort you to the matinee at 2 pm. Would you like to take that walk now? Would you rather take a walk here in this area, or can we go wherever you like?”

“Oh, you know where I love to walk at night in Times Square. I know it’s what most tourists do, but I love it, the excitement, the lights, people watching.”

“That’s a great idea. Let’s take my car, and when we are finished, I’ll bring you back here to your car. Instead of us taking both cars.”

“Yes, let’s do that.”

As they walk out to the parking lot, Alexander walks towards Elizabeth’s car. She looks over at him and says,” how did you know that was my car.”

“Your car Elizabeth, I don’t know your car. This is my car right here, the Alpha Romeo.”

“You’re kidding. That’s my Mitsubishi right next to it. In fact, I was admiring your car before I came into the restaurant. It’s a classic beauty.”

“As are you, Elizabeth. Allow me to open the door for you.”

“Of course, thank you.”

Elizabeth gets comfortable and puts on her seat belt. Alexander says, “I hope that this day will mark the beginning of the rest of our lives, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth feels her face blushing once again. And touches her cheek.  And smiles her most radiant smile and looks straight into Alexander’s eyes. “I hope so too, Alexander. Let’s begin our journey now.”

And The Winner Is

It’s early Saturday morning and my doorbell rings four times. Before I can answer the door, they knock several times using my new brass doorknocker, two Eskimos rubbing noses. I found it in an antique store in Philadelphia called Antiques R Us. I know that’s tacky but they have some really cool stuff in there.

I trip over my cat Sloopy in my rush to get to the door. Sloopy is trying to escape. He’s terrified of both the doorbell and knocking at the door. I step up to the door out of breath and a bit worse for wear. I see a UPS man standing there. He has his middle finger pressed firmly against the doorbell.

I flash him the universal signal for knock it off, a hand across the throat through the window in the door. I fumble around looking for the key to the front door. It’s in the top drawer of the desk next to the door.

I yank the door so energetically that I nearly rip the door off the hinges. “Hey, you can stop ringing the doorbell. What in god’s name is your problem? Couldn’t you just toss the package on the porch like you usually do?”

The man sneers at me. You probably don’t really know what that means until somebody actually directs that look at you. “I haven’t got all day lady. Can you please sign this?”

He hands me the electronic signature thingy. I sign it. My signature looks like Sanskrit or something. He thrust a heavy white envelope into my hand. He does an about-face and walks down the sidewalk and propels himself into his truck. He pulls out without even checking for traffic coming in his direction. Maniac.

I close the door and look at the envelope. I don’t recognize the return address. It looks like a wedding invitation. Good god, almighty is it possible that I’m being invited to yet another of my college friends’ second-time-around weddings? This will make the sixth one in two years. I don’t think anyone should expect their friends to go to another wedding and give another expensive gift for a marriage that probably won’t last until the second anniversary.

I tear open the envelope. Surprise it isn’t a wedding invitation. It’s an invitation to a Scavenger Hunt. Seriously a Scavenger Hunt, who am I Katherine Heyburn? Where’s my Cary Grant? I look at the invitation for the who, what, and where of it all. It’s from a mysterious someone who is an associate of my investment broker Bill Holden. It’s scheduled for December 31st, 2019 in New York City, from 8 pm until midnight.

Are they kidding New Year’s Eve in New York City? I throw the invitation down on the coffee table. I walk back to the kitchen to finish eating my now soggy Captain Crunch cereal. I sip my lukewarm tea.

I idly tap my spoon against the table. I imagine myself dressed to kill, wearing my to-die-for black fur-lined cape. It has a hand-embroidered trim with golden bumblebees. I haven’t really had an opportunity to wear it yet. New Year’s Eve would be the perfect occasion to make its debut.

Well, why not? It could be a wonderful adventure. I’ll use the limo service the invitation listed. I can drink champagne and eat caviar. Well, maybe not caviar. I hate it but definitely drink champagne.

I walk back to the living room and pick up the invitation and take it back into the kitchen with me. I read it over several times. There’s a contact email to RSVP. That’s kind of odd, but it’s the digital age. I walk over to my computer and boot it up. and send my RSVP to the email address.

I’m busy all day Saturday doing errands. I had to take some of my business suits to the dry cleaners and then I have my nails done and highlights added to my hair. I really want to make a good impression on New Year’s Eve. It’s only ten days away. I stop by on my way home to visit my mother. She lives about fifteen minutes from my house in an over fifty-community.

I knock at the door and my mother answers out of breath. “Santina, you nearly scared me to death coming to the door this early morning.”

“Mother it’s two in the afternoon. You must have slept in this morning.”

My mother has a very close relationship with Vodka Martinis. She likes to throw back a few every evening as she watches some man-hating movie on the LMN Channel. She just hasn’t been the same since my father ditched her and married his dental assistant seven years ago. She swears she wouldn’t have been as bitter if the woman had at least been a younger woman and not someone the same age. Somehow, I doubt that would have made that much difference.

“Can I come in mother?”

“Of course, who said you couldn’t?”

I follow my mother through the foyer and the pristine, never used, formal living room into the kitchen.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Santina?”

“No thank you Mother, but if you have tea that would be great.” My mother refuses to acknowledge that I never drink coffee. It’s just another of her odd little quirks. “Mother guess what?”

Before I can continue, she says, “Santina, I’ve told you time and again that I don’t like guessing games. How in the world would I be able to guess?”

“Mother it’s only a figure of speech. I didn’t really expect you to guess. I was invited to a New Years’ Eve Scavenger Hunt in New York City, isn’t that exciting?”

“New York City, oh I don’t know Santina. That sounds dangerous. Who are you going with? Who is hosting this scavenger hunt?”

“I’m going by myself. I’ve rented a limo to take me there and drive me around. It will be perfectly safe.”

“You didn’t answer me about who invited you?”

“A friend of Bill Holden, my investments broker.”

“How long have you known him Santina?”

I hesitate for a moment and say, “oh I met him six months ago Mother. He’s very well known in the business community.” A bald-faced lie, but I was not about to tell my mother I never met the man.

“Oh well then that seems safe enough, but be aware that there are a lot of crazy people out there on New Year’s Eve in New York City looking for people to take advantage.”

“I know Mother. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Well, I better get going I have a lot of things to do this weekend. I have a busy workweek ahead of me. I’ll see you later Mom. I’ll give you a call during the week.”

“What? You just got here. Why are you always in a rush to leave Santina? I didn’t even make you your tea.”

I stand up and awkwardly hug my mother. “Never mind Mother I wasn’t really that thirsty.” I head back to the front door and into my SAAB. Somehow my visits with my mother are always brief. I love her, but I just don’t enjoy spending time with her. It’s a shame, but that’s just the way it is with us.

The next week flies by before you know it; it’s New Year’s Eve. I’m dressed to kill.  Even if I do say so myself, I look stunning in my sequined gold vintage Valentino umpire dress. I picked it up for a song in an out-of-the-way shop on South Street in Philadelphia. My cape swirls around me with my every move.

The limo arrives right on time and the chauffeur comes to my door. He’s a handsome man with jet-black hair and a mustache. If that isn’t enough, he has a Middle Eastern accent that’s sexy as hell. When I open the door, I do it with a flourish. He greets me, “Are you, Madam Ferraro?”

“Yes, yes, I am, and you are?”

“My name is Amir Bashara, I am at your service.”

He looks like he could be a sheik, my heart starts pounding and my imagination goes into overdrive. I force myself to calm down. “Yes Amir, here is the list of destinations for the evening. I’m ready to go. I reach over and grab my purse and my digital camera. I follow him out to the limo. It’s gleaming in the light cast by a nearby streetlight. I feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball.

Amir opens the back door and says in his deep, melodic voice, “everything is as you have requested Madam, let me know if I can be of service in any way. There is an intercom in the back should you need anything at all.”

I sit down on the doe soft leather of the back seat. Six people could sit here comfortably. I see a discreet black refrigerator; within it are the chilled champagne I requested and a platter of horderves. I adjust my cape that had become twisted around my legs when I stepped inside the car. Capes are a thing of beauty but not really practical, like many things in life. I stare momentarily at Amir’s profile and dream of a thousand Arabia nights. I let my imagination visit there for a while.

I consider my coming evening. I think about my quest, the places I will visit, and the treasures I must capture. The instructions in the email I received said I must visit the 42nd and Broadway Theater and either take a picture of the theater where the musical Chicago is playing or somehow get a ticket stub for it.

The next goal is to stop in at the Pego Club and have one of their famous cocktails and take the glass. The third stop is the Ice-Skating Rink at Rockefeller Square. I must capture a picture of the Skaters in motion. The final goal is to visit the observatory at the top of the Empire State Building. Where I will meet up with my fellow scavenger hunters and find out who they are. And who is this mysterious person who invited me on this wonderful adventure?

New York City

Photograph by David Mark-Pixabay

The evening passes quickly, and the crisp air in the city is almost electric with excitement. People are walking up and down the streets in glamorous tuxedos and sparkling dresses. I arrive at the theater and see the sign for Chicago. “Amir, could you stop here and let me out? Could you drive around the block and then pick me up in front of the theater? It shouldn’t take me long.”

“Yes of course Madam, would you like me to accompany you?”

“What? No, that’s not necessary, but thank you very much for the offer. I’ll be fine. This won’t take me more than a few moments. I step out of the car and onto the street. It’s unbelievable how crowded the theater district is. There are actors walking around in costumes from some of the shows that are playing in the theaters. I walk up to the theater playing Chicago and take several quick shots of the Marquee and the people milling about. I look around on the ground for a ticket that someone might have dropped. It’s difficult to see because of the constantly moving feet of the people around me. I hear a deep and familiar voice say. “Madam is this what you are looking for?”

I look up at Amir standing there, looking like Aladdin. “Oh, Amir that’s very kind of you but unnecessary. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. ”

“I have no doubt Madam, but such a beautiful woman as yourself should have company in this great city of New York.”

I look at him closely. I hope he isn’t some kind of stalker. I don’t see crazy in his eyes, but you never know. He hands me a ticket. It’s a stub for Chicago musical. “Wow thank you very much, Amir. I guess we can be on our way.”

“Follow me madam the car is right over here.”

Somehow, he found a parking spot right in front of the theater. He opens the door for me. I step in like Cinderella into the pumpkin carriage.

It doesn’t take very long to arrive at the Pego Club. There’s a long line of people waiting to go inside. I wonder how I will be able to go in and get a cocktail and grab the glass. And still, have time for the other two destinations.

“Madam if you would allow me to step out for a moment I will see if I can arrange for you to enter more quickly?”

“Really, why that would be wonderful. Otherwise, I think I will be waiting in line all night.”

Amir pulls the limo into a spot that miraculously appears in front of us. I look at his mysterious eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s looking back at me. I look down quickly embarrassed to be caught looking at his handsome face. He steps out of the car and disappears into the crowd. The car seems suddenly empty and missing some essential energy. He returns in a few moments and taps on my window. “Madam, I have arranged for us to go in long enough for a drink.”

Us, did he say us? He takes off his cap and puts it in the passenger side of the front seat. I realize for the first time how tall he is and that he’s wearing a very expensive suit that fits him like it was tailored for him. “Oh of course.” I stammer and somehow get out of the car gracefully. My cape flows out behind me like the train on a wedding dress. He offers me his hand as I step out onto the sidewalk. I feel a surge of electricity flow between us. I think I really shouldn’t have drunk that entire carafe of champagne.

I can’t help but notice that the crowd seems to make a path for us to the door. The bouncer lets us walk right in. There’s a low buzz of people talking in the background. A wonderful aroma of incense or perfume is in the air. It reinforces the feeling that I’m walking into a dream. Amir finds a space at the crowded bar and orders. He hands me my cocktail and drinks something dark and golden. After I finish my drink Amir hands me a bag.

“This is for your glass Madam.”

“Amir please call me Santina. I would appreciate it.”

“Madam, I mean Santina that’s a beautiful name. It fits you. Sorry I shouldn’t make such a personal comment.”

I stare at him. He doesn’t really look like he is embarrassed. I’m at a loss for how I should act since I have never been in a situation like this before. “Oh, that’s fine thank you very much. I guess we should be on our way.”

“Of course, let’s be off to the skating rink, I’ve only been there once as a little girl. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it very much.”

The next thing I know we glide up to Rockefeller Center. It’s very crowded. Apparently, everyone wants to skate on the small rink on this beautiful New Year’s Eve.

“Santina would you like to skate on the rink? I can arrange it for you if you wish?”

“What? Oh no, another time would be wonderful. I’m really not dressed for skating, thank you.”

“As you wish. If you would like I will take a picture of you, next to the rink. Then we can be off to the final destination of the Empire State Building observatory.”

We arrive at the Empire State Building at quarter to Twelve.  We are parked at the Fifth Avenue entrance. The street is a wonderland glowing with magnificent Christmas lights and gold and silver decorations.

As we exit the car, I see there are snowflakes beginning to fall. It really seems like a wonderful dream. Amir takes my hand as I get out of the car. I forget that he is my limousine driver. I feel like a princess whose hand is being held by her prince, her Arabian prince. I allow myself to be lost for this moment in this fantasy. We walk into the lobby. It’s an amazing combination of beautiful lights and soft music from a Quartet playing in the background.

“Santina, the elevator is this way.” He escorts me to what looks like a private elevator.

“Amir this can’t be the public elevator. This looks like a private elevator.”

“Santina, it’s alright we can go this way. It has all been arranged for you.”

For me? I wonder what he means by that.  Oh, he must mean for the scavenger hunt group. The elevator arrives at the observatory in what seems like a twinkling of the eye. Amir takes my hand as I step out of the elevator. The view is unbelievably beautiful. The city of New York City is ablaze with lights in every direction. I’m awed by the vision before me.

We walk over to the far wall. Amir makes a sweeping gesture with his arms. I look in Amir’s eyes and he’s looking back into mine. He leans down toward me. All the fireworks and whistles and horns are blowing, fireworks can be seen in the distance. I hear “Happy New Year Santina. It’s all for you. You have only to reach out and take it.”