Her face erupted in a beaming smile, revealing perfect teeth. "Gosh, Ifeel like such an idiot! My car broke down a few blocks away and I'mtrying find ... telephone to call a taxi.". "I don't suppose you could helpme out", she continued, coyly flashing that to-die-for smile once more. Ordinarily, Matthew's analytical mind would have started sounding warningbells. Instead, under the sway of that smile, caution made way for old-fashioned chivalry. "Sure! I have a cell phone in here. For you.” We were on our way to Canada and the Troubadour Lounge by nine o’clock that night. Charlie drove Amy’s big Ford LTD again, and I sat up front with him because it seemed like the natural order of things. The windows were down, the air was warm, the beers were cold, and the tunes were cranked. Amy and I had tried to argue for having the windows up, to save our hair, but our pleas fell on deaf ears. I was glad, actually, because the night air felt good. Our hair would survive. Amy. More

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