Rebecca hadn't told me a thing about the dinner party at her parents' home. I assumed it was because of residual tension between us, but I was wrong. Again.

She hadn't mentioned it because the dinner party was for her... and to some degree, me.

It was on Granville's private yacht, which he kept moored in the harbor at Catalina Island.

Yeah!

I was impressed.

A seaplane took us from Long Beach to Catalina. I'd never been to the island before and knew that forever after, Catalina would be in my memory book as the place to go for a dinner party. The yacht was over one hundred feet long and instantly made one feel like they were Jackie Onassis. The party was small, around fifty people and on a boat this big, the place was seemingly empty.

Rebecca and I arrived from the plane. She looked stunning of course, in a creme Armani suit, her blonde hair was loose and natural. The little rowboat (Thirty feet) took us to the yacht-- I hadn't spoken a word since we left the airport in Long Beach. Rebecca looked at me and laughed.

"Eric, close your mouth, you're catchin' flies." she said.

"Excuse me, you didn't mention a yacht or Catalina Island or a sea plane! I thought we'd have a little chicken breast at your Dad's place! Jesus, how much money is the Clinic bringing in these days?"

We were helped onto the yacht by a gorgeous pair of sailors, who looked at me as if I were the heir apparent. Rebecca answered my question...

"Actually, the clinic is doing well but the money comes from my father's side. About a hundred years ago, my Great Great Grandfather Harrison Granville was in business with Andrew Carnegie -- they had a small shipping company as an auxiliary business to compliment the Steel Industry. Carnegie Steel built Granville yachts and steamers. The company fell apart during the depression, Great Great Grandaddy split from Carnegie in a nasty 'divorce'... and he went into medicine. This old tub was actually built in the twenties. It's been completely renovated and updated."

I forced my mouth closed and we moved into the main cabin area to meet the guests. Flowers, food, champagne, tons of waiters and maids. There was the California Senator up for re-election, some movie stars, a political couple voted "Most Beautiful" in People Magazine... I felt my jaw opening again.

Yup, I felt like Cinderella. I never wanted it to end. The party was awesome. Granville and his wife were charming and beaming when Rebecca and I danced. We were good, too. So good in fact, we got applause.

The food was indescribable. The music flawless... and the time flew. I took the plane back to Long Beach alone since Rebecca was going to spend the night onboard.

But things between us were fine. She insisted I go... she only wanted friendship for now... and wanted to go very slow.

Taking the Town Car back home to West Hollywood, I felt my spirit falling. I was crashing back into reality.

*****

"How was your little dinner party?" Drew asked with a sneer. Of course he was jealous that I hadn't pressed and invited him to come along. He was in bed, watching Jerry Springer and hadn't shaved. He looked like he was catching a cold.

"Fine," I said icily and went to change.

"Your Mom called, wondered why she hasn't heard from you lately. Are you EVER going to call her, Eric?"

"Yes," I croaked out.

I was heavily depressed.