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“I’m only doing this because you’re obviously a gentleman… Please don’t mention to anyone that I gave you any information,” he says and I quickly indicate that I will keep his assistance to me strictly confidential. We walk over to his office and he pulls out a file with some documents in it.
“I’m going to give you the only information that I can possibly share with you, as the details of her bank account and so on is definitely off the table,” he says.
“I totally understand, whatever information you can give me will be appreciated,” I say and looked at him expectantly.
“Well, her surname is Williams… Jenny Williams, and that’s all I can tell you.”
“Thank you, that helps a lot and I truly appreciate you helping me with this!” I say and my heart starts beating excitedly inside my chest. I quickly leave the mansion and drive out the gates as fast as I can. Now that I know her name I feel confident that it won’t be too long before I physically locate her.
“Jenny Williams get ready, here I come!” I shout as I drive back to my own place with the wind whistling past me on my Harley Davidson.
I get home and rush inside. The first thing I do is to grab a local telephone directory and I start looking for the name ‘Jenny Williams’. My heart sinks when I discover that there are seventeen people by the name of ‘Jenny Williams’ listed for my area. What’s more, when I start dialing the numbers many of them no longer exist. I take a look at the front cover of the telephone directory and realize that it’s more than 10 years old. Having spent the last couple of years on the road, I haven’t really had time to do stuff like getting the latest telephone directory. Most of these things are now digital anyway and I’m struck by the thought that I might have better success if I just go onto the Internet and look her up there.
I open up my laptop, find the Google search page and type in ‘Jenny Williams’. But this search yields even less than my telephone directory efforts, as there are thousands upon thousands of internet pages with the name ‘Jenny Williams’ on it. Not only is it a very common name, it also seems there are many characters in books and novels bearing the name ‘Jenny Williams’.
“Dammit!” I exclaim and slam my laptop shut. I rack my brains for a possible solution to my predicament and then it strikes me… Facebook!
I quickly open up my laptop again and find my Facebook profile. I haven’t been on it for ages, so it takes me a while before I remember the password. When I finally get onto my homepage I quickly type ‘Jenny Williams’ in the search box. The results are fairly similar to what I got on the Internet… There are so many profiles bearing the name ‘Jenny Williams’ that I quickly realize it’s going to be an impossible task to check all of them. Not only are there too many profiles to check, many of the profiles don’t have a picture of a face and I’m never going to know when I’m actually looking at the profile of the ‘Jenny Williams’ I’m looking for.
I walk over to the kitchen and make a massive pot of fresh coffee. I’m not about to give up and, even if it takes me the rest of the weekend and twenty pots of black coffee, I’m going to figure out a way to find her!
Chapter 5: Jenny
I’m so excited when the taxi drops Stacy and me off in front of her apartment that I can barely contain myself. We run inside and go on to my Internet banking base just to make sure the whole thing is actually real. I login and there it is again… My balance is now seven hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars. The other two thousand dollars was all I had in my account before last night and now I am rich!
“You know, until I saw my bank balance going over seven and fifty thousand dollars I thought the whole thing might just be a hoax,” I say with a happy grin and Stacy dances around her apartment like little kid who’s just got the bike for Christmas.
“It’s absolutely unbelievable! I want you to tell me each and every single little detail of what happened last night,” Stacy says and sits down in front of me with a very expectant look on her pretty face. I look at her and suddenly feel incredibly grateful to who is my best friend. If it wasn’t for her I would never even have known about the Virgin auction.
“I promise you I’m going to tell you everything that happened… but right now I’m beginning to feel a bit tired,” I said, and really meant it. I guess the act of fucking eleven bikers all night has finally gotten to me and I don’t think I’ll be able to make it over to my own apartment before I fall asleep.
“You know what? I’m also feeling tired and I don’t want to miss a single thing when you finally tell me all about it, so I think we should both take a little nap right now,” Stacy says and I immediately fall down on my back on her comfortable couch. Stacy drops down on the opposite end of the same couch and drags a blanket over the both of us. She always keeps a blanket nearby, as she spends most of her evenings on the couch, watching TV. It doesn’t take long before I drifted off to dreamland and, not surprisingly, I fall into such a deep sleep that I don’t even remember what I dreamed when I wake up later tha
t same day.
“Man, I really enjoyed that little nap,” Stacy says and rubs her eyes as she sits up straight on the couch after waking up a couple of minutes after me.
“I guess it’s time I told you all about the juicy details of what I did with those bikers upstairs in the mansion last night,” I say with a naughty grin, “but I’ve been thinking about it and I believe the two of us deserve to treat ourselves a little tonight!”
“That sounds great… What exactly is it that you have in mind?” Stacy asks. I look at her for a moment and then make up my mind.
“You and I are going to go to the most expensive restaurant in Los Angeles and have ourselves a real stylish time!” I shout excitedly and then both of us jump to our feet and embrace to start off the evening’s celebrations. We both go to Stacy’s room and she borrows me one of her outfits, a trendy little red number and silver sandals to go with it. I look in the mirror and realize I haven’t even taken off my earrings. They actually go quite nicely with the outfit, so I keep them on and splash some quick makeup on my face. That said, I don’t think we need to spend any more time making ourselves pretty,” I say and Stacy nods her head in quick agreement.
“Okay, I’m ready to go!” She says and the next moment we are on our way to ‘Les Mans’, the most expensive French restaurant in Los Angeles. We take a taxi and I give the guy a twenty dollar tip as we get out. Stacy just smiles at my extravagance and we bounce inside the restaurant and find ourselves a beautiful table near the window.
“Good evening Madame,” a fancy French waiter says with a sexy French accent as he hands us each a menu, “Can I get you anything to drink and some tasty hors d’oeuvres to start the evening?”
“Yes thank you,” I say in my most modest voice, “We will take the most expensive champagne you have and after that we’ll decide what we want to have for hors d’oeuvres.” My pronunciation of the French word is so funny that Stacy bursts out laughing and I cannot contain myself either, so I laugh out loud with her.
“Oui Madame, I will bring you our best bottle of Moët et Chandon French champagne,” the waiter says with just the hint of a smile around his mouth corners and makes a little bow before turning around to go and fetch our drinks. Stacy looks on the drinks menu and her eyes open wide when she sees the price of the bottle of champagne. Next line “Good Lord! That bottle of champagne you just ordered goes for two hundred and sixty dollars a bottle,” she whispers in a low, conspiratorial voice. At first, I feel slightly shocked to hear this news, but then I realize that I have seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the bank and I find all of the stress draining out of my body.
“In that case, I think we should order two bottles!” I say and we both burst out laughing again. The waiter returns with the champagne and pours us each a glass. I take a little sip and love the way the bubbles seem to dance around on my tongue. The champagne is slightly more bitter than I expected, but I soon realize why it is so expensive… it leaves a beautiful aftertaste on my tongue and I can’t wait to take another sip.
“Don’t you just love the way it seems to set your belly on fire?” Stacy says and I can tell that she has also fallen in love with the expensive champagne. When the waiter returns we decide to try out the is escargot, a fancy French name for snails.
“Eww, do you really think we’ll be able to eat that?” Stacy says when I explain to her what we are about to eat.
“Don’t worry, if you don’t like it you can spit it out again,” I say and Stacy pulls a sour face. A moment later the waiter returns and the snails actually look a lot more palatable than it sounds when you think about what you are eating. They swim around in a little butter source and we each get a small little fork with which we each dig out a single snail.
