...?" the maitre'd said. "Medina, Allison Medina," she said with a smile. She always liked being treated 'with airs', as her mother used to say. "The fact is, Miss Medina, Mr. Davis has been here since early this afternoon. You see he owns this establishment." "Oh my, I had no idea!" she exclaimed. "Mr. Davis is currently in the executive dining room. Would you please come with me Miss Medina? BY THE WAY, you may call me Andre if you wish." "Thank you Andre. Please lead the way." She was led through an exquisitely decorated dining room. The room was carpeted with a short pile rug which partially muffled the sounds of her heels. The walls were decorated with fine paintings and sculptures of various designs. As Ally passed one of the paintings she couldn't help noticing the signature, Picasso! These couldn't be real, could they? People from only the highest standing dined here. There were even a few celebrities scattered through the room. She tapped Andre on the shoulder. "Isn't that Don Johnson over there with his wife? It is!" she squealed. "Do you think he'd mind if I got an autograph?" Andre looked annoyed. The expression said it all and was punctuated by a small but firm shake of the head. "Oh well, perhaps some other time," she lamented. She was led into a long corridor that ended at a 'T'. As they entered the hallway the carpet was replaced by a parquet floor. The heels made a delicious sound on the parquet and it aroused her senses. However these senses were a distraction from the task at hand, controlling her fear. She almost let that wave of fear overcome her when the turned right at the 'T' and came to a huge pair of ornately carved wooded doors. Andre opened both doors and announced Ally's arrival. There was no going back now. Ally stepped forward into the room. She was immediately impressed by the size of the room. It was some eighty feet long and twenty feet wide with a forty foot long series of heavy oak tables down it's center. |