" She extended her hand and introduced herself, "I'm Rebecca, but you may call me Becky. My friends all do." "Hello, Rebecca. I'm, Gil," I introduce... myself as I gently squeezed her hand, "May I call you, Rebecca, even if we become friends?" She stared at her delicate hand in my grip. "You may, kind Sir. This is your lucky day, it appears I won't have to kick your ass, if you weren't willing to give up your seat peacefully," she chuckled nervously. I laughed at her remark. "Sorry, I don't. She could wait on eight tables and take all of their orders with sheer perfection by memory alone. Her unique talent impressed the hell out of the regulars, usually resulting in huge tips. Yes, she had a brilliant mind…. Did I mention looks?… She was a stunner. Sam looked very much like Joan Blondell in her early years: oval face with high cheek bones, dimples when she smiled. Perfect skin. With the exception of maybe a little eyeliner to highlight those hypnotic green eyes, she didn’t wear. More

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