From Chapter 13 of The Search For Rosita:
Promptly at seven o'clock, there was a knock on her door. She was putting on the finishing touches to her makeup. She looked through the peephole and sure enough, it was Bouchet, right on time. She let him in.
"You realize, for the past ten minutes, I've been pacing up and down the hall, waiting for the magic moment. It's a good thing you opened the door when you did.
"I was so excited, I could hardly wait," he said.
"You promised me you wouldn't start that again, remember?" she said.
"It's the truth. I can't help it Is it wrong to tell you how I feel about you?"
He had taken a seat at the desk, where he could strategically glance at her while she continued putting on her lipstick.
"Rene, this is a dinner between two colleagues who have completed a mission together, nothing more. Let's not ruin it with the flirty stuff you started with the other day. I've told you how I stand on this. I appreciate your help and your time. It's been wonderful. Without you, I'd probably still be floundering around. I ... ."
"I know. You want to keep this on a professional level," he interrupted. "I promise I won't bring up the subject again, okay?"
"Now, you're beginning to sulk, like a little boy. Let's just have a good dinner and call it a night. I went out walking today and I really liked what I saw. You've got a beautiful city here," she said trying to offset the remark she had made earlier. "Where did you pick for dinner? The Montreallais is wonderful, but I'd like a change of scenery."
"It's not quite as elegant as your hotel here, but it's got ambiance," Bouchet said.
He wanted to tell her how great she looked, but thought better of it.
This time, he had his own car, a late-model Ford. He drove around to the northeastern part of the city and parked on a small side street, where the strains of jazz music could be heard well before they went in. A red-and-blue light flashed on and off and she made out the name Place des Musee. They went inside. There was a dark-haired young woman guarding the entrance. Her face was stolid, but it lit up immediately as she recognized Bouchet.
"Rene-e-e," she said reaching to put her arms around his neck. She looked past Bouchet at Judy and hesitated. He bussed her on the cheek.
"Hi, Kitty, my love. Got a good table for us?"
"Always," she said. "Who's your friend?"
"Kitty this is Judy, Judy ... Kitty. Judy is from the States."
"Nice meeting you, Judy. Keep a close eye on him. He's slippery. I've been after him a long time, but he's hard to corner. Hope you have better luck than I had," Kitty said.
"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep a sharp eye out," Judy said, as Kitty let them over to a table near the bandstand. A five-piece combo was playing a much softer number than the one they had heard earlier, a ballad. Judy recognized "Yesterday." A number of couples were on the dance floor. Bouchet waved to a couple of the band members and they nodded back.
"You certainly get the royal treatment around here. Kitty seems to have the hots for you. Is she your ex?"
Bouchet held Judy's chair and she sat down. "No, Kitty is Sergeant Katherine Ellerbee. She was my boss at one time, but I asked for a transfer and got it. You know the old saying, 'Never mix business with pleasure.' She just moonlights here several times a week. She uses the money to fix up an already overdone apartment."
"Oh, you've been there?"
"You heard the lady. Nothing happened. She said that when we came in. By the way, you're getting a bit overly inquisitive about my private life. For someone who keeps me at a distance, you certainly are getting a bit curious."
Now it was Judy's turn to feel embarrassed. He was right; she had no business getting into his private affairs. He was single and had a right to flirt, or do anything else he wanted within legal limitations. She had been stupid to question him. She was not his lover and her questions were out of bounds.
"I'm sorry, Rene. I had no right to ask those questions. The fact is, I don't have any idea why I did it. I apologize."
"Let's not have a fight about who is to blame for what. I brought you here for a wonderful dinner and, I hope, a pleasant evening. Let's don't waste this lovely ballad. We can place our order after the music stops," he said.
He reached for her hand and pulled her chair back and they headed to join the dancers. It was a slow number but he did not pull her close. There was daylight between them. He was an excellent dancer, she thought. She was able to take in the room, looking over his shoulder. It was painted black, with white figures of musicians and dancers, all action figures, swaying to their own music. The place was only about half-full, she noted.
"Where are all the people?" she asked. "I thought you told me this was a popular place."
"This is the dinner crowd. In a couple of hours, there will be standing room only. That was why it was so easy to find a parking spot. In a while, there won't be one within two blocks of here."
The music stopped and he escorted her back to their table. There were others who gave Bouchet looks of recognition. He was a popular figure, here, no doubt. "The shrimp scampi is excellent here. Want to try a bottle of white Zinfandel?" He asked.
"Why not?" She said, then added, "I like shrimp, no matter how it's cooked."
Dinner was superb. The shrimp was as succulent as Bouchet had promised. Judy had nearly finished her second glass of wine and she had begun to loosen up and enjoy the music. Just then, a female soloist broke into a smooth rendition of "Embraceable You." She liked it. She took his hand and led him to the dance floor. This time, there was no space between them. He held her close and her arm around his shoulder was a bit tighter than before. She closed her eyes and swayed synchronously with the music. Bouchet suddenly stopped, took her hand, and led her back to the table. He signaled for the waitress, paid the bill with a hefty tip.
"Rene, what are your doing? I like it here. I was just beginning to have a good time. What ...." Judy protested, "I don't understand."
He held her by the hand and ushered Judy out of the club. "We'll talk about it on the way to the hotel," he said, opening the door for her to get into the car. |
