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answer the
phone so they could make plans for the evening. That was all
Michael could get her to agree to, but he took it happily.
     
    Friday arrived, and as fate would have it,
the S.A.M. was having its Rave. Melanie had forgotten about it
until the last minute, and she convinced Michael to attend the
event with her. It didn't take much convincing. He called her, and
she explained the situation clearly to him over the phone.
    "Well, Michael, you either go to the Rave
with me or spend the night alone," she had said.
    "I don't like ultimatums," he responded
dryly.
    "Well, then consider it a choice," she said
back to him, and Michael could almost feel her smile.
    "I'll do that thing you really like," she
added with emphasis.
    Michael honestly had no idea to what she was
referring, but decided he had to find out. He quickly agreed to the
event and even set a time to pick her up.
    "That's a good Angel," she said and hung up
the phone.
    Right on time, Michael arrived at her
building, and after buzzing the bell, she joined him on the
street.
    "Wow," he said to her. "A woman that's ready
when she's supposed to be. I think you're a keeper."
    "Oh, really," she responded. "And how do I
look?"
    Michael didn't need to say anything. His eyes
had already popped out of his head when she exited the building,
and they repeated the performance as she turned around for him.
    "Not to worry, little Angel," she said coyly.
"That look says it all."
    Michael could certainly understand her
comment. While he had chosen business casual, Melanie had chosen an
elegant fall dress with cleavage down to her navel. The skirt
portion flared out with ruffles, while the upper portion was tight
enough to keep her breasts in check. How that occurred was
something that he could only guess at, but honestly he didn’t care.
He just took one of her hands, which were wearing elbow length
gloves, and began to lead her away.
    "Two sides of a coin," he said to her as he
twirled her.
    "What?" she asked, after she had turned
fully.
    Michael took the opportunity to explain his
comment, and Melanie nodded her understanding.
    "Ah, well, when I'm at the office I spend
much of my time thinking about art or culture. But, when I paint,
it's all about the work."
    "Ever think about painting full-time?" he
asked as they headed down the sidewalk. The Seattle Art Museum was
not too far away, and they had decided to make the journey on foot.
Actually, Melanie had decided they would walk and Michael
complied.
    "I do, but the money isn't there yet. I
barely make enough to live on, even with a full time job."
    "I'm surprised you can afford the loft you
have. It isn't big, but I would think it's still expensive," he
commented.
    Melanie's face became odd and then she
shrugged at the idea.
    "Well," she said. "I don't have a car; I use
public transportation when I need to. Plus, my dad pays a big
portion of the rent. That way I can spend money on supplies and
important things like food."
    "That's nice of him," Michael said. "He must
love you a lot."
    Melanie acted as if she had been shot. Her
smile faded rapidly, and she stared at Michael; if he had slapped
her across the face she wouldn't have appeared any different.
Michael immediately knew something was wrong, and he considered the
comment he had just made. However, for the life of him, he couldn't
remember exactly what he had said. Melanie's odd reaction took his
entire focus, and his mind wouldn't work properly.
    A smile suddenly returned to her face, and
she pulled his hand into the air and twirled herself.
    "Come on, my little Angel, I don't want to
miss the Rave."
    Like a storm passing suddenly, Melanie was
back to her normal self. Michael wanted to address the issue, but
felt awkward. He didn't know her well enough to delve deeply into
her personality, and if she had taken offense at something he had
said, then she had obviously forgiven him. Playing it safe, he
smiled and agreed to pick up the pace; he also decided to take