Can't Help Falling in Love (7 page)

    
Allison tried to hide her true worries. “Maybe she’s planning to shoot her way
into the lobby and take the company by force? Perhaps she’s been watching too
many John Wayne movies and thinks a hand grenade works better than a handshake?
In any case, why should I be worried? What’s Star Records or Phillip Samuels
got to do with me?”

    
“That’s the record label that just put out your new singer’s record.”

  
Allison had failed to clarify that little detail about Star Records earlier.
The revelation came to her like a hammer blow. She returned to her office
emotionally exhausted from the psychological brow beating she suffered during
her momentary confrontation with Sharon Eaton. The advertising vulture was said
to be on a quest to devour clients belonging to others.

    
Allison looked at the clock over Marge’s desk. The time was a minute to three.
As if her secretary read her thoughts, Marge said, “You’ve got an hour until
your next appointment.”

    
“Thank you, Marge. I think I’ll have some afternoon tea,” Allison mused out
loud. “I need to pull together some ideas for him.”

    
“Before you do, you need to read this message he left for you. He called hours
ago to ask if you wouldn’t mind meeting him at the Arcade diner on Main Street.
He left his number.”

    
Allison studied the clock again.
“The
Arcade
?
I’ve barely got time to gather my things
and drive there. He must have a tight schedule today, or maybe he was on
business in the vicinity and thought he’d be late arriving all the way over
here. Of course I’ll meet him at the Arcade. Would you be kind enough to call
him and let him know? I’ll just grab my things now and be on my way.”

    
“Sure, Allison.
Oh, by the way—he said he’d be wearing
blue suede shoes.”

    
“Blue suede shoes?”

    
Marge shrugged her shoulders. “I stopped trying to second guess you young folk
a long time ago. I couldn’t imagine what men could possibly like about a dumb
blonde like Marilyn Monroe, and look what happened!”

     
Allison nearly flew from her office to her apartment just so she could change
clothes. The Arcade was no fancy restaurant, but the diner was popular and
usually crowded. Sometimes, patrons had to wait more than an hour just to get a
seat in one of the lumpy booths. They did not go there for the ambiance but for
the nationally famous food and occasionally famous customers. The restaurant
had become known as a place to see and to be seen. 

    
Allison changed into a silk lilac-colored shift that was tightly cinched at the
waist. Its long full sleeves gave just the right amount of extra color without
being overly dressy. She carried her paperwork in a smart leather folder, and a
nearly-matching purse accessorized the ensemble without giving her too much to
carry. She did not want to lug a briefcase and look like a lawyer preparing for
trial. After a final moment of scrutiny in front of her full-length mirror, she
locked the apartment door and dashed down the hall.

    
As she reached the elevator, she pressed the button and waited. The elevator
was between floors, but coming up. When the doors opened, she ran right into
Karen, who emerged clutching her large portfolio case.

    
“And where are you going all dolled up?” Karen demanded to know. “I thought you
and I were having dinner together. I’ve been waiting to hear all the news you
were going to share with me!”

    
Allison smiled slyly. “It’ll have to wait.”

    
“Who is he?”

    
“I’ve got an extremely important early dinner engagement.”

    
“So I see. And I repeat: who is he?” She eyed her sister’s outfit and nodded to
show her approval. “I’m sure he expects you’ll add some spice to the meal—or
should I say the evening?”

    
“Karen! You’re always assuming there’s more to these situations than there
could ever be. This is a business meeting. If I thought the way you do about
such matters, I’d be—”

    
“You’d be having a lot more fun. Relax. I’m sorry if I’ve gotten you worked up.
I want everything to go well. You look lovely. You’re very capable, and you’ve
got lots of talent. Go get ’
em
!” Karen turned and
headed for their apartment. 

    
Allison emerged from her building to the parking lot.
This
afternoon—and maybe tonight—will be important.
I don’t want to get my hopes up too high, but I’m finding that suppressing my
excitement is too difficult. An early dinner with any handsome man at the
Arcade
is an adventure, but with him I can’t help but believe that something wondrous
might happen!

    
Allison found that keeping her mind on the road proved difficult. She wondered,
What
could he be wearing with blue suede shoes? How many people will be inside the
diner? Will any of them be famous? I met Patti Page there once, so you never
know who might show up. So what if there’s no candlelight and flowers? There’s
more to enjoying a man than being distracted by such superfluous things like
that. Besides, I already know enough about him to know that just being with him
is going to be great. And those booths are so sweet! You can either sit side by
side or sit across from each other, lean forward, and look into each other’s
eyes without a thought about anyone else in the world. I wonder if he’s
thinking the same thing right now about
me?
Could he
be?

    
That thought was tantalizing
and almost too much so. She bit her lip just pondering the possibility. As she
turned the corner onto South Main in the downtown area, she tried with little
success to snap back to reality.
This is, after all, just a
business meeting
,
she cautioned herself
.
She drew in a deep breath in an effort to calm down. 
Still, she could not stop her heart from racing in anticipation, as she drove
to the intersection at Patterson Street and saw the bright neon sign arched
over the restaurant’s front entrance.

    
The restaurant was packed. The bright atmosphere and the din of dozens of
conversations going on at once seemed almost overwhelming. Allison looked for
her date, but all she saw was the crowd of people occupying all the booths and
boomerang tables that were faded and worn around the edges due to thousands of
coffee cups, plates, and elbows rubbing across them.

    
The seating hostess noticed her searching gaze and asked, “Can I help you?”

    
“I’m meeting someone. He might be here already. You might have noticed him.
He’s probably wearing blue suede shoes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s—”

    
“Right here,” a soft baritone male voice said from behind her. 

    
Allison turned to see him standing so near to her shoulder that she could not help
but smell a whiff of his Sportsman Aftershave. She felt his warm hand touch her
shoulder. He said, “I sure am glad you could come here on short notice. You
look like a million dollars!”

    
Allison laughed. “Thank you! Do you still have to make a reservation for a
simple booth here?”

    
“Everyone does,” he said. “I eat here so often they should name a booth after
me!”

    
The hostess said, “Let me show you to the booth!”

    
They followed her down the aisle. Allison looked ahead to the farthest booth
that he seemed to prefer. She had to think fast about whether to slip into the
seat that backed up to a wall, or to take the seat facing the wall.
If I sit with my back to the wall, he’ll be facing me and can look only
at me and there’ll be few distractions while we talk about his work and what I
might do to help, but if I let him take that seat, I’ll be able to see only
him.
In a snap decision,
she slipped into the back seat so that he would see only her.
That’ll
be better all the way around!

    
No sooner were they both seated than an overly-excited teenage girl wearing a
tight red angora sweater ran up to their table clutching a 45-rpm copy of his
latest record. “I know you’re him!” she gushed, pointing to the name on the
record. “Can I get your autograph?”

    
Before he could answer, she thrust him a pen and her record. He graciously laid
the record on the table and signed his name on the dust sleeve, and when his
head tilted down, a long curled lock of his hair fell becomingly over his
forehead. He seemed to not notice, and when he smiled at the girl and gave her
back the record, she was so overjoyed she actually curtseyed before running
off.

    
Allison was instantly overwhelmed. Now that she could finally relax, she was
still in knots. He was just as desirable as she remembered, but she recalled
that he was also as unattainable as before—if not more so. She asked, “Does
that happen often?”

    
“Not so much yet.
Our first record just came out, but
it’s happening more and more.”

    
“It would be nice if some of your future records featured your picture on the
dust sleeve along with some space for you to sign an autograph when asked.”

    
“That would be good, which is another reason to get some great new pictures. I
was on Dewey Phillips’ radio show a few days ago. Listeners were phoning in
wanting to know who I was. A lot of them think I’m a colored guy.”

    
“I’m sure that a great photographer could get some wonderful shots of you that
would clarify that nicely. In fact, if you ever make a whole album, the cover
ought to have your name in great big letters superimposed over a live concert
photo of you singing and playing your guitar. I have a good photographer in
mind already!”

    
“I don’t have much money, Allison.”

   
Allison addressed his remark. “When we position you right to maximize your
potential appeal with the girls, I don’t have any doubt that the nickels and
dimes will come rolling in. The key is to show you in just the right light.
Girls like the one that was here a moment ago spend every night thinking about
their dream guy. Record albums are like paper dolls to them. They also cut out
pictures from all the popular
magazines,
tack them to
their bedroom walls, and dream, dream, dream.”

    
“Just like guys?”

    
“The same.
Don’t you have any sisters?”

    
“No, I’m an only child.”

    
“Well, I’m sure your mother had her favorites, just like all women and girls.
Who knows? You could end up in the movies like Marlon
Brando
and James Dean! But it all starts at the beginning. Having a winning portfolio
is one of the first steps. I’d like to arrange a sitting with a talented
photographer as soon as possible. We can work out payment details later. I
think the photographer I have in mind will do them as a favor to me.”

    
A waitress came up to their table. “You ready to order?”

    
“I haven’t even looked at the menu!” Allison exclaimed.

    
“Your date’s been here before,” she said with a wink at him. “I bet he knows
what he wants.”    

    
He replied, “The best thing they have here is a fried peanut butter and banana
sandwich.”

    
Allison was amused and shocked. She laughed and said, “Are you kidding?
A fried peanut butter and banana sandwich?”

    
“You never had one?”

    
“No, but I’ll try it!”

    
He said to the waitress, “Bring two.
And a big glass of milk
for both of us.”

    
He smiled warmly at her. Allison’s eyes met his, and she was glad that he had
his back to the restaurant so he could see only her. He held her gaze
affectionately, and neither of them batted an eye, which was especially
difficult for Allison because there was an awkward congestion taking place in
the aisle just behind him that he could not see. Their waitress had to sidestep
a group of three large men surrounding a dark-haired woman trying to push their
way down the aisle at the same time four people from another table were trying
to leave. The hostess had difficulty steering the arriving group toward the
empty booth across the aisle and practically at Allison’s elbow, but as soon as
the aisle cleared, the foursome noisily slid into the booth. Once the three men
were out of the way, Allison saw the woman for the first time at the same
moment she saw Allison.

    
“Miss Webster!” Sharon Eaton exclaimed with a smile. “Imagine the two of us
running into each other twice on the very same day!”

    
Allison’s jaw dropped. Sharon Eaton was the last person she wished to see. She looked
stunning in a smart sleeveless dress that revealed slightly sloping lily-white
shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled back and on top of her head with stray
curls that fell down her neck in a studied yet alluring way. Allison regained
her composure quickly enough to smile back, hoping that her shock had gone
unnoticed. She tried to smile, but she instantly perceived that the evening
would most certainly not turn out as she hoped, not with
Sharon
sitting across from them eavesdropping
on every word they said. Her companion was completely oblivious to the invasion
of their privacy, but Allison could not have been more perturbed if a
television camera and a microphone had been shoved in her face.