That SummerChapter 4
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The next morning, Greg was at work as usual on a Monday. His phone rang. He picked it up. His assistant said, "Your niece is calling. Can you take the call."
"Sure," Greg said.
When Amy was put through, she immediately gushed about her present and thanked him effusively. Then she giggled. She said, "How did you like the Ice Princess?"
Greg had no idea what she was talking about. All he could say was, "What?"
"Megan. The Ice Princess. That's what everybody calls her. She frosts the balls off any guy who comes near her. What do you think?"
Greg shrugged, a gesture lost on his audience. He said, "I don't know. I didn't find her cold. She's interesting and intelligent. Why?"
"Oh," Amy said. "Well, I guess maybe you warmed her a bit. You guys sure talked a lot. Anyway, thanks so much for the wonderful iPod. I'm going to download tons of videos."
Greg groaned. He knew who'd be charged for all those downloads.
After Amy's call, the week progressed fairly normally for Greg. It was the usual run of meetings interlaced with screening sessions. The pilot season was rapidly approaching -- the time of year when the networks screened pilots of series. Greg always regarded it as a lottery. He'd been fairly lucky in that lottery in the past few seasons. This year, he had two pilots already in production and had a stack of scripts on his desk for prospective shows. Getting through them would be more work than he wanted to think about.
When he wasn't working, Megan crept into his thoughts. He thought about her far too often for his liking. He found himself chuckling again at her jokes and remembering little things like the way she'd cocked her head when she grinned. He wondered several times whether he should call her. After all, what could she do, laugh at him? No, he thought, she'd probably just politely decline his invitation. But the thing that kept him from calling her was the thought of what she'd say to her friends, especially Amy. He could imaging Megan telling Amy, "I don't know why Greg is coming on to me. It's gross. I mean, he's your uncle, for chrissake."
His American Express bill arrived in Thursday's mail. He amost choked on his morning coffee when he looked at the total. He had no idea he'd spent that much on his trips. As he went through the detailed listing of charges, he noted that a lot of them weren't his at all. They were Amy's. He'd given her a card on his Amex platinum account. There was no credit limit on the account, but the deal was supposed to be that she used the card just for emergencies. Or at least after checking with him first. So far this month, she'd had a lot of emergencies. Nearly two-thousand dollars worth. He noted that some of the emergencies had been at La Vie en Rose, Canada's answer to Victoria's Secret, and at Benihana, the posh Japanese restaurant. Much as he hated to, he'd have to have a word with the kid. He dialed her cell.
"Oh gosh, Uncle Greg," Amy said when he confronted her with the charges, "I'm sorry. I had no idea that I'd spent so much. I'll be careful. I promise. I won't spend any more this month. But could I do just one thing? Please?"
Greg pursed his lips and shook his head. "OK, Princess. What is it?"
"I really absolutely have to get my hair done. I look like a bag lady."
Greg laughed. "I can't remember," he said, "the last time I saw a bag lady wearing Armani jeans and carrying a Gucci purse."
"Don't laugh, Uncle Greg. I really do need a hair cut. And highlights."
"All right," Greg said, "I know I'll regret it."
"Oh thank you so much," she said. "I hate to ask, but could you give me a lift?"
"Jesus," Greg thought, "What's next? Lunch at Tasting Rooms? Or isn't that expensive enough?" Aloud, he said, "When?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. My hair appointment is at two o'clock," she said. "Is that all right?"
Greg sighed. "Yeah," he said, "I'll get out of my afternoon meetings. How about lunch before your appointment?"
"Great," she said. "Where?"
"How about McDonald's?"
"Oh Uncle Greg," she said, "don't be silly. I can't take Megan to McDonald's"
Megan? She'd be there? Greg heard himself saying, "How about Tasting Rooms?"
"That'll be fantastic," Amy said, "I'm sure Megan's never been there. How about noon? That should give us plenty of time."
"OK. Where do you go for your hair appointment?"
"Holt Renfrew," she said. Greg groaned. Only the most expensive place in town. No wonder he called her "Princess."
After he hung up the phone, Greg shook his head, laughing at himself. He said, "Well, I sure gave her a talking-to, didn't I?" Then his mood sobered. Megan would be there. He'd see her again. For lunch, no less.
When Amy told Megan about their lunch appointment, Megan felt really conflicted. On the one hand, she really wanted to see Greg. On the other hand, maybe he didn't want to see her. She said, "When you told him I was coming, what did he say?"
"I don't remember. Maybe he didn't say anything. But actually I think he said, 'that'll be OK, ' or 'that'll be great, ' or something like that. What's the difference, Megs? He knows we go just about everyplace together."
Megan shook her head. She said, "What's the difference? There's a helluva lotta difference between 'OK' and 'great.' Are you sure it's all right?"
"Oh hell yes," Amy said. "Come on. I'm sure Greg likes you. He hung out with you through my whole party."
On Friday, Greg took extra care shaving and combing his hair. He looked through his closet, settling at length on a blue blazer, gray slacks and a pink shirt. No tie, of course. He didn't want to look like a stuffy old fart.
Megan went through her entire wardrobe twice before settling on a blue suit and a white crocheted top. "Nice but not fancy," she thought. "More businesslike." She dressed and headed for Amy's house.
Greg was nervous as hell when he pulled up in front of Amy's place. "Come on," he said to himself. "Don't be an ass. You're taking your niece and her friend to lunch. That's all. You're not a teenager on his first date, for Christ's sake."
Greg went up the steps and prepared to ring the bell. He was almost bowled over by Amy. She threw open the door with a cry of "Uncle Greg!" Amy hugged him and then ran down the steps with Megan trailing in her wake. Greg brought up the rear. He couldn't help thinking what an unlikely pair the two young women seemed to be. Amy was tall with a voluptuous figure, while Megan was petite with small breasts and gently flaring hips. Even in her high heels, she barely came to Amy's shoulder. Amy was wearing designer jeans, a crop-top and a leather jacket. Megan was dressed in a business suit. Amy rushed to the car and planted herself in the front passenger seat. Greg helped Megan into the back seat.
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