The Brilliant Boy Billionaire - 43. Meet Me in Saint Louis

The spread of food on the VIP floor was considerably nicer than what I’d expected. It certainly wasn’t like what Dave had described for the one in the hotel lobby. There was an assortment of real finger foods including shrimp cocktail, fried calamari, stuffed mushroom caps, chicken and beef yakitori and spring rolls. I could’ve easily made a meal of it and gone right to sleep, but I was in a major city with real nightlife and a cute guy as my escort.

Since everyone else was wearing a suit or, at least, was in shirtsleeves, I felt very self-conscious in only a tank top and shorts. I imagined I probably didn’t smell that great, either. I asked the guy at the bar how much longer the food would be there and was told it would be taken away in an hour but not to expect much to be left after another half hour or so. That was enough time for a five-minute shower, so I headed to my room first. When I got there, the message light on the phone was on. I retrieved the message, which was from Dave.

It read, “I have a surprise for you, but dinner will be very late and light. Fill up now if you want. Will meet you downstairs at 7:30 sharp.”

That had me intrigued, but I realized I’d better get the food while I could and to hell with how I looked or smelled. I quickly washed my face and hands and headed back to the elevator lobby. Grabbing a full-size dinner plate and real utensils, I filled the plate with an array of the food. Approaching the bar, I intended to get a soft drink, but the bartender asked, “You look like you could use a nice cold beer, or perhaps I could get you a mixed drink? Might I suggest a gin and tonic to ease the day’s tensions.” Certainly, he must’ve known I was underage. I could get away with passing for nineteen and had, but clearly I was a teenager and couldn’t possibly be 21. Still, if he wasn’t going to card me, why not? I’d never had a gin and tonic before.

“Yeah, that does sound good,” I replied. Noticing that others were taking their food back to their rooms, I did the same. Balancing the plate and glass was tricky while getting out the keycard, though. At least, it was a tap-to-enter system, so I only needed to get out my wallet and tap it against the sensor on the door. The food was delicious, and the drink was surprisingly good, although the gin was stronger than what I’d been expecting. Way stronger than beer.

Finally, I took my shower, set the alarm on my phone and then just to be sure, requested a wake-up call. I didn’t even remember getting into bed when the call came at 7:15. After quickly washing my face, brushing my teeth, spraying on a little cologne and combing my hair, I dressed in a black polo and a pair of khakis. I would’ve preferred to wear dressy casual shoes, but I’d only brought black dress shoes and sneakers. I probably could’ve worn the sneakers, but I wanted to impress, so I wore the dress shoes with black socks and a matching black belt. I got down to the hotel lobby with five minutes to spare, but Dave was already waiting for me.

Pulling me into a hug, he said, “You look nice,” and then added, “I like your cologne.”

I hadn’t thought much about it when I sprayed it on. Shaun had given it to me, saying it went well with my personality, but I didn’t use it that often, so I still had a lot of it left. I replied with a courteous, “Thanks.”

“We need to get going,” he added, “There’s just barely time to walk, and I hate to take a taxi for such a short distance.” We exited the hotel and headed right up Market Street, walking five blocks which, to me, didn’t seem like such a short distance. Perhaps it had to do with familiarity, or maybe with cost.

“The Stifel Theater?” I asked when we got there. Of course, I’d read about it in the online tourist materials for the city but didn’t think I’d have a chance to actually go inside. “This must have cost you a fortune. Let me at least pay you back for my ticket.”

Waving his hand, he replied, “It hardly cost me anything. The hotel gets free tickets in return for putting up the performers. There’s a lot of that kind of exchange among the downtown businesses. I got coupons for dinner afterwards, too, so consider this a cheap date.”

After entering the theater, we stopped at the box office to pick up our tickets and then handed them to the ticket taker, who scanned them. Inside, the old theater was as lavish as any I’d seen in Europe. It was stunning. The usher showed us to our seats and handed us each a program. Then I got a chance to see what it was we were going to see. “Gregory Porter and Sara K? Really? You got tickets to Gregory Porter and Sara K? I wasn’t aware Sara K still went on tour.”

“You’ve heard of them?” Dave asked in surprise.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them,” I replied. “They’re two of the top jazz vocalists of our time.”

“Are you serious?” Dave asked. “I’m impressed you know of them. I got the tickets on the advice of one of the bellhops, who said they’re good. I’d try to impress you about knowing them, but I’d never heard of them before.”

I went on, “They’re both singer-songwriters, but their music is clearly jazz. Sara K’s not nearly so well known as Diana Krall or Norah Jones, but her music is much more eclectic. She doesn’t rely on standards, and most of her songs are original. Gregory Porter won the Grammy for best jazz album a few years back.”

Dave interjected, “Sometimes we get tickets for the really big concerts at the Enterprise Center right behind this theater. Justin Bieber was just here, and Elton John was supposed to come last March but couldn’t because of the pandemic. He’s now rescheduled for this summer.”

“Elton John I’d love to see,” I admitted. “He was the first really big star to come out, and he was one of the most talented, period. Justin Bieber used to be cute, but he isn’t anymore, and he’s not close to being talented.”

“I’d agree with you there,” Dave chimed in. “I take it you like jazz?”

“Yeah. I take it you’re not a fan?” I asked.

“It’s not that I’m not a fan. I just don’t know anything about jazz,” Dave elaborated.

“In my opinion, it’s the quintessential form of modern music,” I said. “It combines western concepts with African rhythms to create something that’s uniquely American. It originated with the spirituals the slaves used to sing; they brought their music with them wherever they went after the Civil War. George and Ira Gershwin used to walk through Harlem at night, listening to the sounds and rhythms of the music. George already had several successful Broadway musicals under his belt when he wrote Rhapsody in Blue. He was only 25 when he performed it in 1924. The hundredth anniversary of his masterpiece is coming up. One can only wonder what music might be like today if he’d lived beyond his thirties.”

“Damn, you know a lot,” Dave commented.

Smiling, I replied, “I’ve been told that before. It’s not so much that I studied that much, but I’ve always read a lot, and I never forget what I read. I don’t have a photographic memory the way some people do. I can’t recite what was on the page verbatim, but I digest everything I read, and it becomes a part of me.”

There were announcements to turn off our cell phones, which Dave and I both did immediately, and to unwrap any candies. Who the hell brings candies to a concert, but then maybe they were referring to cough drops.

The audience broke into applause when Sara K walked onto the stage. She looked good for a woman in her mid-sixties. The lights came up, and we could see the band behind her. She picked up her microphone and began to sing. Usually, tours are designed to open with new talent in the first act followed by the headline act after the intermission. It was unusual to have two headline acts in one show, but perhaps it had something to do with the pandemic, and it became necessary to double up on some of the planned performances. I certainly wasn’t complaining.

Sara K was phenomenal, and she brought down the house, getting a well-deserved standing ovation – and that was before the intermission. “What did you think?” I asked Dave when the lights came back up.

“She’s good,” he responded. “Actually, I thought she was incredible. I can’t believe I’d never heard of someone with such an amazing voice, and her range was incredible.”

“Very well put,” I agreed.

“Do you need to use the restroom, or do you want to get a refreshment or anything?” Dave asked.

“Nah, I’m okay,” I replied. “How about you?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Dave responded. “We probably should stand and stretch, though. We wouldn’t want to get blood clots you know.”

“I wonder if that ever happens from watching a concert?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he replied. “You know, working at a hotel, I see everything, and every now and then we have to call an ambulance because someone passes out, and sometimes people even go into cardiac arrest.”

“Really?” I exclaimed. “I thought that sort of thing only happened in the movies.”

“Really,” Dave replied. “I think maybe we see it more often than others do because in the hospitality business, we see a lot of folks who just got off a plane after flying for several hours or folks who drove for fourteen hours straight, stopping only long enough to get gas. So, they get blood clots, and then after a few days, the blood clots break loose and lodge in the lungs, and they can’t breathe.”

“Actually, they can breathe just fine,” I countered. “The airways are wide open, but the blood can’t get through. Their circulatory system goes into shock.”

“There’s your incredible knowledge base again,” Dave responded. “Most people think I’m smart because I’m gonna go to medical school and hopefully get a Ph.D., too, but I’m not close to being in your league.”

“You’re no slouch, Dave.”

The lights dimmed and brightened several times, and the audience slowly filtered back into the theater. This time it was Gregory Porter who walked out onto the stage and sang song after song; then at the end, Sara K walked out and joined him in singing a couple of songs as a duet. What a surprise! What a treat! They both got a standing ovation at the close.

<> <> <>

As we walked out of the theater, Dave said, “Unfortunately, the thing about a show that lets out this late is that the restaurants are all closing right now or have already closed. There are some bars and pizza places that stay open real late, and there’s one in particular I like that’s pretty near the hotel, but they don’t deliver. What do you say I call an Uber and we grab a late-night pizza or burgers or whatever?”

“That sounds excellent,” I replied. “I can’t believe I’m hungry already.”

“Hey, traveling’s hard work,” he said, and we both laughed. Dave pulled out his phone and turned it back on, then ordered and paid for an Uber to take us to the restaurant. We didn’t have long to wait, and the trip only took about ten minutes. The restaurant was indeed very close to the hotel, being just to the north of Gateway Arch National Park. The hotel was just west of the center of the park.

We entered a place called The Lou Eats & Drinks. It was tempting to eat at one of the outside tables, but it was kinda deserted and rather chilly, so we went inside. The place was nearly empty, but then it was a Monday night. There were a few patrons at the bar and a handful of tables with tourists. Otherwise, we had the place to ourselves. We seated ourselves, and our server was prompt and courteous, bringing us menus right away. “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.

“I don’t suppose you’d serve us beer?” Dave asked.

“I should card you,” the young server replied, “but the police never stop in on a Monday night.”

“What’s on tap?” Dave asked.

“Do you really have to ask?” the server replied.

“Well, some restaurants have craft beers,” Dave responded.

“Of course, we have Schlafly beers on tap in addition to the full assortment of Anheuser-Busch varieties. I have English Pale Ale, Oatmeal Stout, and Summer Lager,” he replied.

“I’ll try the Summer Lager,” Dave replied.

“And how about you, sir,” the server asked.

“The Oatmeal Stout’s a dark beer?” I asked, and the server nodded. “I’ll try that.”

“Just a reminder that the kitchen closes at midnight, and we’re open until one AM. I’ll be back with your beers and to take your order,” the server said and then quickly disappeared.

We opened our menus, which were quite extensive, and Dave suggested, “Everything here is great. We could order a large pizza for the two of us if you’d like. They have a traditional St. Louis style pizza, which is a thin-crusted, square pan pizza, and it’s very good. The Deluxe and Barbecue Chicken are both outstanding, and they’ll do half and half. We must get an order of potato skins first, however. The toasted ravioli appetizer is excellent but perhaps too filling. You could make of meal of it by itself. Their burgers are excellent, and their sandwiches are excellent. I’ve never had a bad meal here.”

Looking at the extensive menu, I said, “How about that large pizza you suggested, half deluxe and half barbecue chicken?”

“That’s absolutely perfect,” Dave replied.

The server returned at that moment with our beers, and then asked, “Are you gentlemen ready to order, or would you like a few more minutes?”

“We’re ready,” Dave responded. “We’ll have an order of potato skins and a large pizza, half barbecue chicken and half deluxe but with barbecue instead of marinara sauce. We’ll have an order of the gooey butter cake to go.”

“Your potato skins’ll be right up,” the server replied as he took the menus and quickly disappeared.

Taking a sip of the beer, I commented, “This beer is excellent.”

“So’s mine,” Dave responded, and then he asked, “This is your first visit to St. Louis, right, and you have two full days left?” I merely nodded my head. “What do you especially want to see?”

“Everything in Forest Park, of course,” I replied, “including the two museums, the zoo and the planetarium, and the Missouri Gardens, for sure. I also want to see the Cathedral Basilica. I saw pictures of it at the Old Cathedral, and it looks like it shouldn’t be missed. Of course, no trip to St. Louis would be complete without a tour of the Anheuser-Busch Brewery.”

The server brought the potato skins, and they were loaded with cheeses of every kind. I took a bite of one; they were delicious, and man, they were filling!

“We’ll probably be getting a bit of a late start tomorrow, so I recommend a light schedule,” I couldn’t help but blush at that, causing Dave to laugh. “As tempting as it is to focus on a certain area, the weather’s supposed to be outstanding tomorrow, but there’s a chance of rain on Wednesday. I’d suggest saving the museums and the Busch Brewery for Wednesday, and maybe the Cathedral Basilica, too, depending on how we do on time tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll start with the Missouri Gardens and then see the zoo. If there’s time, we’ll see the basilica and then go out for a nice dinner. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like an excellent plan,” I agreed.

“For dinner, I’d like to suggest Salt + Smoke, a barbecue chain that’s a local legend and a mustn’t miss for any visit to the city. Otherwise, Carmine’s Steak House, right next to the hotel, is perhaps the best steakhouse in St. Louis, but perhaps you’d rather leave that for Wednesday night. I’m game either way.”

“Let’s plan on the barbecue for tomorrow night,” I suggested. “It sounds more casual, and tomorrow’s gonna be a casual day.”

The pizza arrived, but we’d barely touched the potato skins, so we set them to the side and went to work on the pizza. Damn, it was good, but there was no way we were gonna finish it all. We went on talking as we ate, boxing up the potato skins, about a third of the pizza and the gooey butter cake to take back to the hotel. I guess we’d be having it for breakfast instead of the breakfast buffet, since we’d probably miss it anyway. At least there was a refrigerator and microwave in my suite.

“I assume I’m invited up to your room?” Dave asked for confirmation.

“You’re invited to stay the night,” I responded, and he grinned.

No sooner had we put the food away than we started making out like crazy. I’d been waiting all day for this, and I was on fire. Our shirts were quickly removed and dropped to the floor, and then we went back at it. Dave’s shoes followed, but mine took more effort as there’s no way to toe off dress shoes. Before long we were up close and personal with each other’s feet. It turned out Dave was as much into feet as I was. After removing our pants and boxers, we started working on the main event, getting up close and personal with our most personal parts. When I sensed he was getting close, I pulled off, which I think surprised him a bit, and he ended up dropping me from his mouth, too. The look on his face was priceless. I could see he was asking why the fuck I stopped before he came.

“Trust me, when you shoot, it’s gonna be so much more intense,” I explained. For close to an hour, I kept Dave on the edge, to the point the poor boy was practically begging me to let him cum. He wasn’t quite so successful with me, as he’d already gotten me off once. Taking pity on the boy, I carefully unrolled a condom onto his member, but even that I feared would set him off at that point. I applied lube to just the tip of the condom and to my hole, and then ever so slowly lowered myself onto him. For a while I just sat there, giving him a chance to get used to being inside of me, and then I ever so slowly lifted myself up and then sat back down. I did this repeatedly, keeping the motion slow enough that he never reached the point of no return. Gradually I applied pressure with my sphincter, getting him used to the feel of the added stimulation.

“Please fuck me hard,” he shouted out. “I can’t stand it anymore.” Technically, he was the one doing the fucking, but I knew what he meant. I increased the tempo and ramped up the pressure, using my hands to rub under his arms and his nipples. I became more forceful to the point that his member was banging up against my prostate with every thrust of my pelvis. The time I’d spent building up to this paid off as we both reached an amazing climax. Even though I’d already cum once, my spunk rocketed out and all over his face and chest and even into his hair. I could feel him filling the condom and even felt his spunk leaking out around the base of his member.

As we slowly came down from our mutual sexual high and as he slipped out of me, Dave said, “Oh. My. God! I have never felt anything like that. Are you sure you weren’t a rent boy in the past? I can’t imagine even the most experienced professional doing anything half as good as that.”

Laughing, I replied, “I would never sell myself for any reason. I’ve probably had more experience than most guys my age, though. Not that I consider myself a slut, and I’ve never dated more than one guy at a time, but I’m very much open to the occasional hookup. I just don’t want to make a career or a hobby of it the way some guys do.”

“I’ve had my share of guys, too, but none of them could do what you did,” Dave said.

“I’m a bit of an anomaly,” I explained. “I’m very much a bottom, but I’m far from passive. I’m a very aggressive bottom who likes to ride my partners, and I like to dominate. Most guys aren’t used to that.”

“I’ll say,” Dave replied. “That was amazing. Maybe we should grab a shower, and then finish off the pizza. Sex makes me hungry, and that session made me starved.”

“Yeah, pizza sounds good,” I agreed. We showered together and got each other squeaky clean. I noticed that there was also a double jacuzzi and thought that perhaps we might try it out tomorrow. We polished off both the potato skins and the pizza but left the cake for later.

Checking his phone, Dave reported, “I hate to tell you this, but it’s looking increasingly like Wednesday will be a washout. You could spend a full day at either the zoo or Missouri Gardens, but they’re only open until 5:00 PM. We probably should plan to be at the garden when it opens at 9:00 AM.”

“Shit.” I responded. “Well, at least we can get breakfast from the buffet after all. How long will it take to get to there?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Dave replied, “About ten minutes, even with traffic. Let me call the valet desk and arrange to have your car dropped off at 8:45. We’ve already showered and neither of us needs to shave. Shall we get up at 8:00?”

“8:10?” I suggested with a grin.

“Yeah, that extra ten minutes will make a huge difference,” Dave laughed. Even with the extra ten minutes, the alarm went off way too soon.

<> <> <>

“I had no idea this place would be so big,” I exclaimed. “It looked kinda small in the maps app on my phone.”

“That’s because it’s next to Tower Grove Park, which is humongous,” Dave explained. “This is considered one of the best botanical gardens in America. The zoo is one of the top ones, too, but Missouri Gardens has one of the largest collections of rare and endangered plants in the world. The Climatron is one of the largest geodesic domes in a garden, and it’s one of the few to support multiple climates within a single space. The Japanese Garden is the largest in North America.”

“You should see the gardens they have in Japan,” I responded. “They put anything we have to shame.”

“You’ve been to Japan?” Dave asked.

“I spent more than two months there,” I replied. “I supervised the upgrades of servers in Tokyo, Nagoya, Osaka and Hiroshima. The gardens, temples and palaces in Kyoto have to be seen to be believed. Korakuen Garden in Okayama is a personal favorite.”

“What the fuck were you doin’ upgrading servers in Japan at your age, J.J.?” Dave asked.

“It’s complicated,” I replied. “I designed a new type of data server that’s several times more efficient than existing versions, but it involves cooling with liquid nitrogen. There was an accident and some of my friends were killed in an explosion. It took me a while to accept that it wasn’t my fault. The explosion was caused by a faulty oxygen line that wasn’t even supposed to be there. The one person who should have caught it was killed in the explosion. He was my boyfriend’s father, which is why I lost my boyfriend.”

“Oh man, that’s tough,” Dave responded.

“Anyway, life didn’t stop after the accident. Under normal circumstances, we’d have taken several months to a year to revise the design to keep anything like that from ever happening again. Ultimately, we did do that, but in the meantime, the coronavirus happened, and server demand exploded around the globe. On top of that, the vessels that were needed to keep the servers so cold were being manufactured in a Chinese city little known to most Westerners known as Wuhan.”

“Of all places,” Dave chimed in.

“We finished a new facility for building the new data centers in Vietnam, and we’re building another one in Mexico, but demand for more capacity couldn’t wait, so I designed an adapter to upgrade existing data centers with the new circuit boards, which were already in mass production. My superiors thought that with my involvement in all aspects of the new design, I was the best qualified person to supervise the upgrades. I spent the better part of a couple of years as a globetrotter,” I concluded with a grin.

“Damn,” Dave responded, and then we walked in silence. I decided to change the subject.

“This place is so beautiful,” I sighed. “It’s so peaceful here,” I added as I took Dave’s hand. It was nice to walk through the garden hand in hand but probably not wise except when we were alone as we were now. I shot photo after photo with my phone, a lot of them of Dave with the garden as a backdrop. The photos were okay, but there was nothing special about them, and although the phone attempted to simulate a Bokeh effect in software, it was nothing like what I’d seen from professional photographers. I was beginning to think that Franklin was right about the need for a better camera. New York had some great camera shops; perhaps I’d take a look at what was available. Four grand seemed like way too much to pay for a camera, but I had a feeling I could find something decent for a few hundred dollars and certainly for under a grand.

We spent all morning at the Missouri Gardens and managed to see most all of it, but we had to make tracks. Unfortunately, the gardens were in the midst of a three-year, $95 million expansion of the visitors’ center, with a doubling of amount of greenhouse space. None of the new facilities were open yet, so there’d be a reason to return someday. As we were finishing up, Dave asked, “Are you hungry? We could grab a quick bite at Café Flora on the way out.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “If you don’t mind, let’s wait. I’m still pretty full, from the huge breakfast we had.”

“Yeah, I’d no idea they put on a spread like that on the VIP floor,” Dave related. “The omelet chef was a nice touch, and I guarantee they didn’t have bagels and lox downstairs. I’m fine with waiting. We’ll get a snack at the zoo.”

The trip to the zoo, located in Forest Park, was only about five minutes. As we pulled up the entrance, Dave explained that the current layout of Forest Park and the adjacent campus of Washington University dated back to the 1904 World’s Fair, also known as the Louisiana Purchase Exposition as it was the 100^th anniversary of one of the greatest land deals in history. The water features of the exposition still remain, but of the buildings and pavilions of the fair, only the Missouri History Museum and the administration building on the Washington University campus remain. Many of the exposition memorabilia were carted off and can be found all over the U.S. Dave also told me that the Summer Olympics of 1904, the first ever held in the U.S., were held in conjunction with the exposition.

Not that I had much experience with zoos for comparison, other than the Indianapolis Zoo, but I thought the St. Louis Zoo was at least as good as the Omaha Zoo. It was extensive and had features Omaha didn’t have, but that was true in reverse, too. We never did stop for food, so by the time the zoo closed at five, we were famished. There was a Salt + Smoke located nearby on North Euclid Avenue in the Central West End, so we headed right there. We both ordered the Bestie Combo, with ribs and brisket for me and with ribs and pulled chicken for Dave. Of course, we shared with each other, so we each had half-portions of chicken and brisket. The dinners came with two sides, so I had the pit beans with smoked bacon and the sweet-pepper potato salad. Dave had the barbecue-sweet-potato chips and the green-bean-and-tomato salad, and of course, we shared. At Dave’s insistence, we each ordered the homemade pecan pie a la mode for dessert. I was beyond full by the time we finished, but it was still early.

“I’d suggest we go dancing,” Dave began as we left the restaurant, “but most places that are gay-themed or gay-friendly and okay for teens aren’t open on Tuesday night. None that I know of anyway. There’s a fantastic classic movie theater near here if you’re interested. It’s located in one of St. Louis’s most historic hotels, and going there is always an experience. It’s in the Chase Park Plaza; it probably started out as a single large theater, but they’ve divided it into five intimate theaters, yet they retained the classic feel. They even kept the original organ from the silent-film days.”

It might have been a cheesy thing to say, but Dave couldn’t seem to stop laughing when I replied, “I could definitely go for an intimate place where I can see your organ.”

After I apologized for my cheap play on words, we headed right there and parked in the garage across the way. I liked that I could park The Tesla in a garage that gave a discount with a validated ticket. The theater was indeed very elegant, with a huge lobby and a concession selling fresh popcorn with something I’d never had before: draft root beer. With five screens, we had no trouble finding a movie neither of us had seen that we both wanted to see. Indeed, there was a live organist playing classic music while we waited for our show to begin. It was nice snuggling up with Dave and occasionally making out while we watched a movie together.

In a way, I wished he could be my boyfriend, but that wasn’t even a remote possibility. After the movie, we returned to the hotel, made out in the jacuzzi in my suite and then spent half the night making love to each other.

Morning came far too early, and Dave had to be at work by 8:00, but at least there was time to enjoy the V.I.P. breakfast buffet.

I ran into the Walters at breakfast, and since they had yet to visit the museums in Forest Park, we again agreed to spend the day together. Although the Walters had rented an SUV, Franklin insisted on taking the Tesla. Of course, he rode shotgun while his parents were relegated to the back seat. It was pretty clear who was in charge of the trip. The Cathedral Basilica opened at 7:00, so we started our day there. The Walters hadn’t even known of the cathedral, let alone that it was worthy of a visit, but they were sure glad we did. I couldn’t get over how grand it was, nor how ornate. Franklin went crazy shooting photo after photo. From there we went to the Planetarium and saw the first show when it opened at 9:30, and after that we visited the St. Louis Art Museum and the Missouri History Museum.

Again, everything closed at 5:00. Since I had a stressful morning ahead of me and was seriously sleep-deprived, I decided to make it an early night, and after dropping the car off with Dave at the valet desk and asking him to charge it up, I changed into nicer clothes, and the Walters treated me to dinner at Carmine’s Steak House. Dave was right; the steaks were outstanding. I woke up the next morning refreshed, and after another sumptuous breakfast, was on my way.