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"Such actions may result in a net loss of capital and stockholder support." With that, I finished the summary report on the biggest, nastiest project I'd ever met. I checked over the document for errors, admired it for a minute, and then printed it. Setting the completed folder in my briefcase, I checked my watch. 10:30 p.m. Two whole hours to kill before Conan O'Brien would come on. I spied the phone. Should I? I'd be seeing her in two days anyway. I mulled it over: I don't want to come on too strong. On the other hand, I really want to hear her voice. I needed an excuse. Calling her for no reason would be the action of a desperate man. If I had a reason, something that required an answer or decision on her part, that would justify a phone call. I picked up the receiver and dialed.

"Hello?" Her voice was smooth and gentle, just like I remembered it from Joe's. She might not recognize mine, so I introduced myself. Her tone picked up immediately. I asked her my $64,000 question.

"Do you like cheese sandwiches?" It must have caught her completely off-guard, because she pulled the phone away from her ear and all I could hear was her distant laughter. She returned the earpiece.

"Excuse me?" Ever so polite, she was.

"You heard me. Do you like to eat sandwiches made out of cheese? I need to know because if we're going to eat out on Friday then I need to make reservations for Fat Olav's Fermentation Factory O' Milk tonight."

"Uh, well, I can't say I've ever had one..."

"Great! Olav's it is!"

"...and I can't say I would ever want to have one."

"Doh. Looks like the only other place is Le Fleur D'abeille Domestique."

"That...that sounds much better. Much. I love that place."

"Yes, it has the word 'domestic' in the name, so it can't be all bad."

"I'll see you Friday then."

"You bet. I only hope Le Fleur has cheese sandwiches." I heard her laugh again, and hang up. I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. Staring long and hard at myself in the mirror, I asked aloud: "Can't you be serious around Amanda for just two damn seconds?!?" I looked harder. The word came out and tore at my heart:

"No."

I returned to the den in a philosophical melancholy.

There was a small rainstorm in the air that Friday after work. I wondered how bad it was going to be, so I turned on the TV to find a weather report. The sappy young meteorological student informed me that it was going to pour about an inch or two before midnight. I figured it would be best if I donned my umbrella and heavy trenchcoat.

It had already begun to rain when I got to Amanda's place. It was a surprisingly upscale apartment building for someone you'd expect to find in a low-key blues bar. She buzzed me in, and I went up to her door. I buzzed her doorbell. She apparently wasn't quite ready yet, and I let myself in at her ushering. There was a striking allure to her apartment that I couldn't quite place. It was obvious she had both high finance and good taste. I was suddenly struck with shame to be taking her to eat at Le Fleur in the loaner car I had been given while they worked to repair my beloved Ford Mustang. I began to perspire.

She emerged from her bedroom fastening a tiny silvered earring to her lobe. Her dress was a slinky strapless low-cut off-the-shoulder black number that cut itself off just above the knee. Even though I was wearing a very nice casual suit, I felt as though I might as well be wearing a "No Fat Chicks" T-shirt and oily, cut-up jeans in a sloppy combination that just screams "I've been working on my car and I just broke the oil pan."

That reminded me. I had to find some way to break it to her that she would be leaving her fabulously decorated and impeccably clean apartment...in a dress that would make Mr. Blackwell go wild...to go to her favorite restaurant...in an El Dorado.

Nothing came to mind. I had to tell her before we actually reached the parking lot. I figured that in the elevator would be the best time. We got to the elevator, she pushed the button for the ground floor, and we began our descent. The numbers lit up as we approached. I said nothing. We reached the lobby, and still I said nothing.

I opened the lobby door for her, and decided that it was now or never.

"Amanda, you know my car? You know how it broke down the other day? Well, it's still broken, and you're going to dinner in an El Dorado."

At least, that's what I would have liked to have said.

I got as far as 'Amanda, you know,' and that's when she said "Here's our limo."

A long, black stretch limousine turned the corner and pulled up to meet us under the awning.

I had a feeling that tonight, tonight wouldn't be just any night.

"You were saying?" she asked as the limo came to a halt. The chauffeur got out and opened the door for us. We entered the interior, and I searched for a response.

"I, uh, I, uh...Amanda...why did you rent a limousine for tonight?" She ignored my stammering and acted as if I had asked a perfectly valid and well-thought question.

"Your car is broken, right?" I nodded in agreement. "So I figured that if we're going to Le Fleur, we might as well have something more than a taxicab to wow the valets."

I nodded again and humored her as best I could. "Taxi. Right. Good idea." I breathed an inner sigh of relief. I had been granted a stay of execution, and I immediately began to feel better.

She asked about the Giant Project, and I told her that I had finished it on time and with a satisfactory conclusion. At least I still had a job to go back to on Monday. That was the important thing.

I asked her how her job was. I remembered from the night we met that she had mentioned something about being a security systems analyst. She stated that her work was fine, and that she was about to begin a profile on the museum. "The museum? I hear they're going to open a new Andrew Wyeth exhibit next month."

She just smiled and nodded and giggled. "I know."

"Oh," I replied. "Are you coming in on the ground floor of the security details for it?"

"No," she shot back. "I intend to drop in through the roof while suspended from a nylon harness." I broke out laughing, and she quickly joined me. Again, I was reminded of her unique brand of humor I loved so much.

We arrived the restaurant, and I opened the umbrella upon exiting the limousine. I gestured for Amanda to join me under the protection of the big bell, and she amazed me with the way she so gracefully emerged from the vehicle, even in pouring rain. We entered Le Fleur.

Dinner was great, and the conversation sparkled as much as the wine. I told her more about myself: my childhood in Maine, my wacky extended family, a few anecdotes that happened to me in college, and a short résumé of where I've worked in the city.

Don't think I dominated the evening. By the time our entrées had arrived, we had switched the discussion over to her. I was in awe at all she had done in her life. It was as if I were dining with someone who had worked day and night since they were four just...accomplishing things. I again felt as if I didn't deserve to be here. What could I say to justify my eating with such a dynamic, gifted individual? Either she was a phenomenon in the security industry and life in general, or she was lying through her teeth. Was there something she wasn't telling me?

I kept my suspicions hidden. We finished dinner and headed to the cloak room to retrieve my things. The coat check girl kindly handed back my trenchcoat and umbrella, which had apparently been wiped dry during its stay. I took a look outside and, seeing that it had finished raining, tucked the umbrella into my coat. We left the restaurant.

I don't know what happened next. I didn't notice anything. But on our way to the limo, Amanda froze like a deer caught in headlights and began madly looking around her. "What? What's going on?' I asked.

She gave me a forceful nudge towards the limo and flat out ordered me to get into it. As much as I like Amanda, I wasn't about to blindly do what she told me to do, especially under force, and especially when she was suddenly acting so irrationally. I resisted, and when she looked over her shoulder, I joined her.

At first, I saw nothing. There was simply nothing out of the ordinary that I found remotely alarming. My confusion was short lived, because at that moment I made the terrifying realization that we weren't alone.

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