“What a size he is!” Ken said, impressed.
“He used to be one of Joe Louis’s sparring partners. He built up this club from nothing. I wish you could have seen it when I first danced here. It was nothing but a damp cellar with a few tables and a pianist. In five years it’s grown to this.” She finished her martini and slid off the stool. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Ken paid for the drinks and followed her across the bar, and into the restaurant.
Several couples were dancing, and most of the tables were occupied.
The Captain of waiters, a dark, hawk-eyed Italian, bustled forward, greeted Fay effusively and conducted them to a table against the wall.
It was while they were finishing an excellent mushroom and prawn omelette that Ken noticed a strikingly beautiful girl come to the door of the restaurant.
She immediately attracted his attention, and he wasn’t the only man in the room to stare at her.
She was tall and willowy. Her blonde curls were piled high up on the top of her beautifully shaped head. She wore a sea-green evening gown, cut low enough to show an expanse of creamy white skin that made Ken’s eyes pop. Her enormous eyes were emerald green and her eyelashes curled upwards and seemed to be touching her eyelids.
It wasn’t so much her face that Ken stared at. Her figure would have stampeded an octogenarian. It stampeded Ken.
“Phew! Who’s that ?” he asked turning to Fay.