The Sportin' Life (15 page)

Love crept up on me when I wasn
’
t looking, the way my weight loss did. Sometimes it just happens that you meet someone with whom you
’
re so compatible on so many levels that you just seem to mesh together instantaneously without there being the kind of initial attraction or fireworks that describe a typical infatuation. That
’
s the way it was with Arnie and me. We talked, we laughed, shared good food, enjoyed movies and it seemed that there was nothing that we didn
’
t have in common.

The first night we met, Arnie came home with me. It was that simple and that right. The only thing that disturbed me was the mistrustful glance Samson cast in Arnie
’
s direction, but I decided that he was just being protective of me. Since Samson usually slept on the couch in the living room, there was no problem when Arnie slept in the bed with me. It was wonderful. He was wonderful. I never felt so natural in bed with a man before. There was no tension of any sort, not even the typical sexual tension that often produces heightened passion. It was just so easy to cuddle, to talk, and eventually to kiss and make love as though we had been doing that very thing for years.

It was magic right from our first real date
—
on the Wednesday after the Saturday we met. Arnie arrived to pick me up in a limo, with a dozen perfect red roses and a beautiful gold watch, which seemed too much to accept so soon, but he insisted. Then we went to dinner at a local Chinese restaurant. How funny they must have felt, wondering who we were to arrive in a limo to eat Kung Pao Chicken. Then Arnie took me to the Schubert in
Century
City
and to Hy
’
s afterwards for drinks. It was such a fun evening and he was so thoughtful and caring that I was overwhelmed by the extravagance of gesture that he found so normal.

Arnie and I fell into a rhythm together and it was like we both naturally assumed that we
’
d be together forever, from the first moment. He was devoted and caring, always worrying about my welfare and my pleasure. Every night he took me out for dinner, and when I would protest about the cost in the fancy places he preferred, Arnie would laugh and leave an even bigger tip. I
’
d never seen anyone leave a bigger tip than the amount of the bill and I didn
’
t want Arnie to go broke trying to impress me.

Eventually he opened up to me, in an effort to set my mind at ease. He felt an obligation to treat the neighborhood merchants well, because often he had to entertain at those places and their treatment of him could be important to business. Arnie was a millionaire, involved in several different area, like real estate and various investments, and he could well afford to take me anywhere we wanted to go. He could easily afford the limos that he hired to transport us, even if we were only going to the movies. He could afford the flowers and fancy presents that he liked to give me. So stop worrying!

I couldn
’
t believe it. I had hit the jackpot in a really bit time kind of way, and the amazing thing was that it didn
’
t matter at all. I loved Arnie and each moment with him was as wonderful and comfortable as anything I had ever dreamed in my most romantic fantasy. We were completely in love, and no matter how deep my own well of feeling and devotion, it seemed that it was a mere drop in the bucket compared to the passion that Arnie felt for me. He told me he loved me a hundred times a day. It didn
’
t matter that we had known each other for only a few days
—
this was True Love.

Every moment we were together Arnie kept after me to move into his
Malibu
beach house. He told me all about his fabulous home, with its wonderful indoor Jacuzzi. At first he seemed to say that the Jacuzzi was brown with gold faucets and very ornate styling. When I looked a bit askance, implying that I thought that was a little gaudy, which I definitely did, he changed the description to a blue Jacuzzi with ultra modern appointments, which I liked better, saying that he was glad that he hadn
’
t gone with the gold after all. Only for a second did I pause to wonder about the seeming discrepancy in his descriptions and the way he changed the story, but he did it so effortlessly that I assumed the brown/gold scheme was an original plan, one that he had changed before construction. The house did sound beautiful and spacious, and I was dying to see it, but there never seemed to be time for us to get there. We were too busy running around, having fun, riding in limos and making love.

Arnie was having a problem with his insurance on a new car he
’
d just bought. He had a fleet of cars, from a Porsche to a Z, but I never saw any of them. Usually we just rode in limos. One day we were hanging around my place while he made a few calls to make sure that delivery of the new Jaguar was available and that it would have insurance. Everything was set, but we had to go pick up the car. Arnie had ordered a limo to meet us at my place, but strangely, it never came. I offered to drive him to
Santa Monica
in my Poison Pink Pontiac, but he decided we might as well take a cab. After all, this car was going to be for me, and he planned to put it in my name. I couldn
’
t believe it and I didn
’
t really want it. I liked my own car, and it felt wrong for me to take a car from a man, even if he was my True Love.

Arnie was adamant, so we went off to get the Jaguar, which Arnie insisted that I drive home. I sat in the car while he attended to the business of paying for it and signing papers. Then we took off. The plan was to drive up to
Malibu
and check out his house, so that he could show me just how much room there was and how happy we
’
d be there. Eventually we did head up the P.C.H. and it was an exciting adventure to be going to see this fabulous place which would probably become my home. And it was fun to drive the Jag. They drive great. I began to think that everything was settled, that Arnie and I could begin our life together. He
’
d offered to give me money to pay bills or buy anything I needed in the past, and I always declined, but I decided that if we were going to live together, and ultimately marry that it might be OK after all. I mentioned that I might just quit my job and be a concubine for a while, just as he
’
d said he wanted a million times. Despite the fact that he smiled happily, there seemed to be a flicker of distress that crossed his face which I recognized and dismissed rather too quickly.

When we got to the house, it was completely dark, and Arnie discovered that he had forgotten his key. He was furious. Apparently his cousin, who had been staying there, had neglected to leave the key under the mat the way he was supposed to, and Arnie had no way to get into his own house. So we went back to my place, where I packed most of my clothes and the other things that seemed essential, including Samson
’
s food and kitty litter. While I packed, Arnie walked about cheerfully overseeing the whole operation.

“
Listen, Delilah, I want to give you the pin code for my bank accounts so that you can get money whenever you need it. All you do is punch in 786857 and then 555 and then 789. That accesses my money market account that will let you withdraw the maximum daily amount. Now have you got those numbers?
”

“
What? How come you have so many numbers. All I do is punch in 333 at my bank.
”
I doubted that I could ever remember such a complex code, and besides, I didn
’
t want to be withdrawing his money anyway.

“
At the level account I have, they require a more complex code but you can memorize it easily enough. Come on, try it.
”
Arnie insisted, and so I repeated the numbers a few times without trying to learn them.

By then we were ready to load my things into the car and to head out to
Malibu
again. Arnie made a call to his cousin to make sure that everything was in order, but he learned of the unexpected death of his grandmother, which sent him into deep shock. She was the only member of his family to whom he had been close and now she was gone. I offered to go with him to wherever the family was gathering, but he said there was nothing to do tonight but go home together and get settled in. Then he took me in his arms and held me for a long time for closeness and comfort.

When the Jag was loaded with my stuff, Arnie, I, and Samson in his cat carrier, headed out toward
Malibu
. It was a bittersweet ride, with Arnie recalling all the special times he
’
d had with his grandmother. We both were tired and looking forward to collapsing in his big bed under the skylight that was built above it purposely to let in the starry night. But once again we were locked out. Arnie was more furious than ever and I was exhausted. Even Samson looked weary. The only thing to do was to return to my place, get some rest and call a locksmith in the morning. That
’
s what we did. Except that Arnie never could get a locksmith who was available, oddly enough, although I saw him make call after call from the yellow page listings, and we both were beginning to feel the strain and frustration. Finally Arnie informed me that a couple of them were going to call back when their services contacted them, and he went to shower.

When the phone rang, I grabbed it, expecting a locksmith, but it was the man at Tip Top Leasing, saying that the checks for the Jag had bounced, and that furthermore there was no insurance on that vehicle. I was perplexed, but it was clear that there was some mix-up that Arnie would have to clear up himself. His reaction was pretty much the same as mine. He would settle the problem easily. Obviously the guy at Tip Top was crazy. It didn
’
t even occur to me to ask about the fact that it was a leasing company when I had been told it was a purchase.

The next calls were from family members, to whom Arnie had given my number, telling them that we lived together. It was strange the way that Arnie spoke to his mother, as though she were yelling at him and he had to defend himself. Yes, he was young to be a millionaire, but successful men don
’
t usually have mothers who treat them like ne
’
er-do-wells, do they? I couldn
’
t understand what was going on, but it was clear that several things were amiss and I couldn
’
t make sense of the situation that was beginning to unravel before me. It was time to go to work, and so I had to leave. Arnie left at that time also, driving off in the Jag to attend the funeral in
San Diego
without unloading my stuff. We figured he
’
d be back later that night and we
’
d move at that time, if ever a locksmith did get in touch.

My work day was uneventful and soon I was home, waiting to hear from Arnie. When the phone rang, I reached for it with anticipation. But it wasn
’
t Arnie. It was the guy from Tip Top, saying that nothing had been done, that the bank refused to cash the check from Arnie
’
s grandmother that Arnie had dropped off that morning.

“
Wait a second,
”
I answered with confusion,
“
Arnie
’
s grandmother died two days ago. You must be mistaken about that check. Why would he give you her check anyway?
”

“
Oh boy,
”
sighed the leasing agent,
“
I think I
’
m in trouble. That check is dated today, but the bank wouldn
’
t honor it. Now I see why. Do you have an address for Arnie?
”

“
I know he lives in
Malibu
, but I don
’
t have the exact address. What address do you have?
”

“
I have a listing in
Hollywood
.
”
I started to feel sick. There were too many discrepancies coming to light as we began to compare notes. Arnie had told the leasing agent that he was a film recruiter, one of those guys who stands on corners asking people to go to screenings in order that the producer can gauge audience reaction. He had shown pay stubs that indicated that he could afford to lease the Jag. I told Joe, for by then I knew his name, the story about the
Malibu
house and the plans that Arnie and I had made together. We both were worried. Arnie was off driving an uninsured car, one that was beginning to look like a stolen car, and he had all my things in the trunk and back seat, things I needed and couldn
’
t afford to replace. I assured Joe that I would do whatever possible to help him recover the car, and that as soon as Arnie called, I would convey the importance of returning the Jag. But what would happen if he disappeared forever? I
’
d have nothing to wear but the clothes on my back
—
and my fat clothes that I hadn
’
t packed.