He pulled into the Welcome Motel around nine o'clock, parking the Sedan in one of the bays. After dinner, he went to his cabin, took a shower and went to bed.
He was tired, relaxed and well fed. He looked forward to a good night's rest, but as he turned off the light, a radio in the cabin next door started up, sending strident swing music through the thin partition and bringing him wide awake.
He lay in bed, cursing the noise for some twenty minutes, hoping that the radio would be turned off. A little after eleven o'clock with the noise still tormenting him, he put on the light, struggled into his dressing-gown and banged on the door of the adjacent cabin.
There was a pause, then the door opened and he found himself face to face with the most intriguingly beautiful girl he had ever seen.
Tom often thought of his first meeting with his future wife. She was wearing a light blue wool sweater that emphasised her firm, overdeveloped bust. Her short black skirt seemed to be painted on her. Her long legs were bare and her narrow feet were in cork-soled sandals.
He thought she was wonderful and over-poweringly sexy, and when she smiled, showing her dazzlingly white, movie-star teeth, he was struck speechless.
'I bet you don't like my radio,' she said. 'Is that right?'
'Well . . .'
'Okay. I'll turn it off. I'm sorry.' She looked beyond him at the Oldsmobile under the parking lights. 'That your car?'
'Yes,' Tom said, the lie coming easily. He put his hand on the door post and looked at her, his eyes moving over that incredible bust.
'Some car.'
He grinned.
'Some girl.'
They laughed.
'Why don't you come in?' She stood aside. 'I'm Sheila Allen.'
He moved into the cabin, closing the door. He watched her turn off the radio, his eyes on the solidness of her hips, feeling his blood move faster, thinking she wouldn't need a pillow under her in bed.
'I'm Tom Whiteside. I don't mean to be a crab. I was trying to sleep.'
She waved him to an armchair and sat on the bed. Her skirt rode up and he could see her smooth white thighs. He looked away, rubbing his jaw as he sat down.
'You're lucky to be able to sleep,' she said. 'I can't sleep. I don't know why it is. I never get off before two.'
'Some people are like that.' He studied her. The more he looked at her the more infatuated with her he became. 'I can sleep any time.'
She found a pack of cigarettes, shook two out, lit them and gave him one. There was a slight smear of lipstick on the cigarette. It gave him a bang as he put the cigarette between his lips.
'You wouldn't be going to Paradise City tomorrow?' she asked.
'Why, sure. I live there. Are you going there?'
'Yes. There's a bus around nine . . .'
'Come with me.'
She smiled, her big eyes opening wide.
'I was hoping you would say that. You work there?'
'That's right . . . General Motors.'
'Gee! That must be a pretty good job.'
He waved his hand airily.
'It's not so bad. I look after the whole district. Yeah, I can't complain. What are you planning to do in Paradise City?'
'Look for a job. Think I'll find anything?'
'Sure . . . a girl like you. Any ideas?'
'I'm not much good at anything . . . a waitress . . . a hostess . . . something like that.'
'Not much good at anything? Who are you kidding?' He laughed. 'You won't have to dig deep . . . not with your looks.'
'Thanks . . . I hope you are right.'
He regarded her, then asked, 'Got anywhere to stay?'
'No, but I guess I'll find something.'
'I know a place. I'll take you there. It'll be around $18 a week and it's nice.'
She shook her head.
'Not for me. I haven't the money. I can't go higher than $10.'
