Rick's book sales were doing quite well in both the U.S. and Europe. He was on a world tour right now, taking Alexis and his mother, Martha, with him to Europe. His success in Europe rivaled that in the U.S. and he was almost as popular a personality there as back home. He was becoming very wealthy due to his book sales. He was not Patterson wealthy yet, but was catching up. His tour would end back in the US on the East Coast for a couple of stops and then back to his loft in New York. After that, he would do another tour of the Midwest and West Coast in America after the Christmas holidays. He always reserved the holidays for his small intimate family gatherings. Christmas was his time for whiling away the hours with Alexis, making Christmas cookies, decorating the loft for the Holidays and just relaxing with his daughter. His mother was a Broadway actress and the holidays were always hectic for her, reserving only Christmas day for family. Rick understood and held ho hard feelings toward her due to her theatrical commitments. She lived with Rick since a ne'er-do-well absconded with Martha's bank account previously. But being able to spend time with her as much as he could was more than worth any disturbances her flamboyant lifestyle brought to his household. Alexis loved her to death and would be heartbroken if Grams moved out.

Rick's West Coast tour ended up back in California in San Francisco on the 7th of January. Once he had fulfilled his tour commitments, he remembered Mr. Haverson had a sister club in San Francisco. He called him and asked if it was possible to be allowed to go to the club with only a guest invitation. Ian assured him he would make the arrangements and to contact the doorman once he arrived. Rick completed his obligations around ten and then made his way to the club, arriving around eleven or so. He checked in with the doorman and he had one of the attendants show him to his table in the theater. His club was not quite as large as the one in L.A. but was just as elegantly appointed. He was there only to spend a relaxing evening with some high quality entertainment and no hassles from the media or paparazzi.

Think of his amazement when the announcer came on at midnight and introduced the premier entertainer, "For your viewing pleasure, the incomparable . . . Emerald".

Rick's heart immediately began to race and his breath stilled for fear of breaking the enchantment. Ethereal music commenced and while Rick did not recognize the song it was just as haunting as the melody playing when he was in L.A. He continued to hold his breath, hoping beyond hope this was 'his' Emerald. Could it be possible, could he be so lucky as to find her again after this passage of time?


A phantom slowly rose from the floor of the stage and Rick immediately knew that form. He thought his heart was going to explode; his excitement at seeing her again nearly more than he could bear. Emerald was more haunting than in L.A., if that was even possible. Maybe it was due to his despair over thinking he would never see her again, or maybe she really was more alluring, more fascinating, more confident in her authority over the audience. She still moved with the grace and aloofness of royalty, allowing no one to believe she could be touched, let alone possessed. She was, once again, the ruler of the stage, the master of the room, allowing the air to move only as necessary so those in the audience could breathe. She commanded all she surveyed, even more so than when Rick had last seen her.

Emerald had evolved to a higher plane of existence than the mere mortals comprising the audience. They existed only to serve her and give to her the accolades she richly deserved. Never had Rick seen a performance which so completely enchanted the audience. They survive to praise her, it would seem. She was beyond extraordinary, she was absolutely magnificent.

She danced fully nude for more than half her number, totally bewitching the members of the crowd. Once again she was tall and proud, moving unashamedly and without fear, enthralling each and every one who beheld her. Rick held his breath throughout nearly the entire performance, not wanting to take the chance of missing any of the details of this crowning achievement. He could study her for eternity should he be so fortunate.

As before and as had become her very nature, Emerald stood tall and proud in the center of the stage without awkwardness or discomfort, completely at ease with herself and her nudity. She was the complete woman, a vision of loveliness and grace. Never had there existed such an exquisite creature. She had captured the allure of Venus, the lust of Aphrodite, the beauty of Helen of Troy, the mystery of Mona Lisa.

As in L.A., she took her bow, graciously accepted the applause of the crowd and glided from the stage, still totally nude. She was the incomparable, mythical Emerald.

But this night was different. She had a nearly overwhelming perception of being watched by more than just the audience. What was this, never before having felt this acute sensation of an unseen presence other than the time she danced for that Rick guy in L.A.? Was it real; was this mysterious gentle man in the audience? How could she feel his presence if he was absent? She wondered, not without a hint of a thrill and a hope for another encounter in the mist of the club. She was intrigued.


Rick was almost overcome with the emotion of the moment. He called the attendant and asked her to give Emerald the message that Rick would like to meet with her with her permission. The attendant agreed and left for the dressing area.

Rick waited with bated breath, wishing beyond hope that Emerald would remember him and accept his offer of company for a brief moment. His wildest fantasy was granted when Emerald moved from behind the curtain backstage and started closing to his table. He could not believe his good fortune, having unexpectedly found his dream again.

Rick rose from the table as Emerald approached and offered her a seat beside him. He was awe-struck, actually more mesmerized than he had been in L.A. Could that really be possible? What was this power Emerald held over him? He was caught as if in a web of emotion and passion.

Emerald was feeling the same gravitational pull around Rick as she felt before. She could not explain it, but it was real. Was he the unseen spirit she had sensed while dancing earlier? Could this be her 'destiny'? Did she even believe in destiny? It certainly felt that she had been preordained to meet Rick again and being with him reaffirmed the feelings she had discovered in L.A. How could she explain this to herself? She had no clue.

Rick was the first to act. "Emerald, once again, are you allowed to accept a drink from me? I would really like to talk to you. I'm a writer and I 'm fascinated with the rare and beautiful. I find inspiration from all sources and situations. You are a most fascinating challenging person and a true inspiration. Please don't fear, I only want to talk."

"I would like a glass of white wine please. I'm not sure about any conversation," Emerald said, "I'm a very private individual."

Rick once again spoke, "Emerald, should we get to speak, I will protect your identity more passionately than this club itself does. I have no wish to embarrass you or to disclose any secrets or private information concerning you."

He continued, "Please let me meet with you outside the club to try and understand the depth of your character. I know you are more than Emerald and I want to understand what makes you tick, what you fear and what you imagine your life to be. I will absolutely not divulge any of what we talk about to anyone without your explicit permission. I would like to base at least a character in my books on Emerald. You, of course, will be allowed the final decision on any character I might base on your persona."

Emerald appeared hesitant still when she hears Rick continue, "Look, I'm just here for the story. There is always a story. Now that you are here in San Francisco instead of L.A., I would guess you are attending Stanford. A beautiful intelligent girl like you is probably taking a professional track. I guess pre-law or pre-med, right. Bet at least one of your parents is a lawyer. You are following in his or her footsteps, so probably your mother. And based on the passion I see in your dancing, your drive is to exceed her achievements . . . aspire to loftier heights . . . ", "I bet you want to be the principle in your own law firm or serve on the bench. Am I close?"

Emerald, taken aback at his uncanny accuracy but hiding it well, simply looks at him and states coolly, "Cute trick, but don't think you know me."

"I'm sorry if I offended you in anyway, like I said, there is always a story. I just am truly interested in yours. You are an enigma to me, a mystery I will never solve but need to try." Rick pleads.

Emerald isn't too impressed outwardly, but still can't control the excitement and flutter low in her stomach. She wonders how a meeting with Rick would go outside the club. She gets up to leave, not offering any recognition of his plea. However, as she leaves the table, she slips a small piece of paper into his palm and remembering her feelings for him in L.A., kisses him lightly on the cheek, stating, "Good Night," and then simply walks away without another sound. Her outward persona never broke during this time with Rick, save her confusion when he cold-read her as a pre-law student and divined her aspirations.

Will Rick call her? When will he call if he does? Will he accept her plea for anonymity? How does she calm the butterflies in her stomach? She has no answers now but can't wait to find them.