I'd forgotten the fear that I went into 'The Do' with. I'd become lulled by the friendliness in the shop. I had no expectation that I'd be enchanted by Romeo's reception in LA. I'd heard the legend of Romeo from Chet's own lips. I didn't expect to fall under its spell.

I began to look forward to whatever might come next.

Back in the car, we made a few turns, drove up one street and down another. Chet leaned to look for places he remembered and needed to see.

We drove past a sign that said, Beverly Hills. We stopped at' Stivic's Clothier.'

"The Tailor, Seymour is good and he's fast. We'll get slacks and a shirt here. He always did my clothes while I danced at Rainbow. It's expensive but worth every dime. Come on. We'll see if he's still here."

We went in the front door. A bell jingled over our heads, as a nicely dressed gentlemen rushed our way, meeting us four steps from the front door. The floors were wood. There was no carpet, but the wood had a clean shine on it. There were beautiful suits of clothes on both sides of the shop where we stood.

"What may I do for you gentlemen today? I'm Antonelli," the man said with a continental accent in his voice. "We don't do sales at Stivic's, but every piece of clothing is a bargain that will make you look like a million bucks."

"Seymour around?" Chet asked. "I'd like to see Seymour

"Hey, Seymour, they want you," the man yelled with a Brooklyn accent.

I laughed at the change in character. I'd heard my share of New Yorkers.

A smallish gray haired man scurried out from behind a dark curtain with a tape measure around his neck. His eyeglasses were suspended on a chain, as he stopped a few feet away. While he gave us the once over, he grabbed for his glasses to put them on his nose. He was looking at Chet and did no more than glance at me.

"Ah, I've done you before. Let me think," he said, sounding just like I imagined a Jewish tailor should sound.

Snapping his fingers three times, he walked around Chet.

"The club. The Rainbow. I still do Claude. You are, were, are Romeo. Am I right?"

"I am Romeo," he said. "Do you have time for us."

The tailor's expression turned to a scowl.

"You stiffed me on you last order. That was three, four, five years ago. You want the sequined shirt and black slacks? I put them up somewhere once you didn't come back for them," Seymour remembered for us.

"You have my Romeo outfit?" Chet said with glee.

"Who else would buy a shirt that looked like it might belong to a circus clown? Of course I have it. I hope you plan to pay for it. I've been sitting on that outfit for three, four, five years. I took a loss. I'm not going to throw them away."

"I was sick, Seymour. By the time I was well, I was far from here. I don't remember coming in for a fitting. I didn't know my name for a long time."

"You're Romeo. I know who you are. I don't like being stiffed, Young Man."

"We'll correct it today. I will buy the Romeo clothes and I want this man fitted with a nice shirt you think he'll look good in and maybe a pair of slacks if you can have them ready by eight."

"Let me see. You're paying cash I hope? I won't take a check from you. You stiffed me once. Seymour isn't likely to be stiffed twice by the same person."

"How is Claude?" Chet asked.

"Fat as ever. He comes in each month for me to let out his clothes. Man should quit eating so much. He's ornery as ever but pays good. He pays cash. Come to think of it, he usually paid your bills too. I'm not sure he didn't pay for the Romeo clothes. Maybe you didn't stiff me. Maybe I was just left holding the bag. I'll check. Let me see. Blue, green," Seymour said. "Here this will do. Come around here. Brown slacks. Those shoes won't do. Do you want shoes? Size nine. A nice brown loafer will work with brown slacks and your green and blue shirt."

Five minutes later Seymour was measuring my inseam. The shirt he handed me fit me like a glove. It felt wonderful and looked better than nice. The dark brown slacks were a color I'd chose and he handed me a box with size 9 shoes, and they fit fine.

"Isn't this too much?" I asked. "This ain't Sears."

"I got two envelopes of cash in the glove box. I have five hundred for the clothes. I should have plenty in my pocket for the clothes.

"Seymour, we'll need these before eight," Chet said, as Seymour hung off a ladder, trying to reach boxes just out of his reach.

"Come up here. Your arms are longer than mine. See this box. I need that box. Come get it for me," he said, climbing off the ladder. Chet climbed up, leaning out three or four feet to snag the box indicated, letting it drop to the floor."

"Yes, that's it," Seymour said, opening the box and holding up a madly sequined shirt. They looked like rubies, sapphires and diamond sequins.

Chet held it up and the overhead lamp made it glitter. Chet's smile was huge. He seemed to enjoy seeing a shirt I wouldn't get near if you paid me.

"You, try it on. I won't have much time for alterations. I can do his cuffs in a few minutes, but these need to be sent out. Too expensive to risk ruining them," Seymour said. "You put on the slacks. I'll do your cuffs while he tries on his clothes."

I watched Chet getting dressed in his outrageous duds. He stood admiring both pants and shirt. He didn't look bad in that shirt. The slacks were ordinary, but cut to fit one person. Chet was the one. He looked good, but I could have been a bit prejudiced on that thought.

I heard a sewing machine sewing for a minute, it stopped, ran again, stopped, ran again, and Seymour appeared holding my slacks.

"Here try these," he said, tossing me the slacks.

He turned toward Chet.

"They fit better now that they fit before. They're the same size as before."

"Seymour, you're as efficient as ever," Chet told him.

"I may be getting old, but I never forget a customer. Even one who orders such outrageous shirts. I wouldn't let any of my customers see that shirt. They'd think I lost my mind if they thought I designed such a thing."

"What's the damage," Chet asked, opening his wallet.

"Shirt $75.00, slacks $125.00, shoes $125.00. I'm sure I charged Claude for that costume now that I think of it. You can pay the storage for me holding onto those things all this time. I'll check. If I didn't charge him, I'll charge him now. He can pay for it. He ordered it when he sent you to me," Seymour said.

Chet counted out four one hundred dollar bills, and Seymour reached in his pocket to make the change, and then he took ten more bucks from Chet.

"That's for storage. Although I should pay you for getting those things out of my shop. You actually where these?"

"I'm Romeo. Of course I wear them. What else would Romeo where?"

We left the Jewish tailor pondering what else Romeo might wear.

I had a new do and new duds. I expected neither. I felt good about both.

When we left Stivics, it was going on eight and Chet wanted a snack and a soda before we arrived at Rainbow after nine, which is when the doors opened and people began to line up to be approved for admission.

Chet was quiet. We found a MacDonalds that Chet remembered was there. He got a ginger ale and French Fries. I got a quarter pounder, fries, and Coke. It was getting dark as we ate. Chet chewed each French Fry individually. He looked so different, that I had to keep looking at him to make sure it was Chet, but something told me, you're no longer looking at Chet. He has become Romeo, and I didn't know whether to be happy or run like hell. I considered my options.

As we moved toward the club, Chet went around the block twice to look at the line that was already a block long. It would take an hour to get to the front of the line if they weren't holding anyone up for confirmation. Chet drove a few blocks away, parking on a well lit street where there were no less than three Rolls-Royces parked with two sports cars similar to the Lamborghini. We parked between the sports cars, as a black and white did a slow tour of the street.

"You knew this was here?" I asked.

"I knew it was here once. I wasn't sure it would still be here. They keep a close eye on high dollar parked vehicles. No point in needing to find one if they keep an eye on them while the owners are in the area."

Chet stood beside the car inhaling the air. I didn't say anything, but maybe it was the haircut, or maybe the clothes, but he seemed different to me. I walked beside him as we walked the three blocks to where Rainbow was.

"Hey, where you going?" a man asked as he got in the back of the line.

We walked a yard away from the line we ignored as Chet walked up to the door. He was now two inches taller and his shoulders became broad, which was odd. The guy stationed at the door was six six and three hundred pounds, but Chet walked right up to him as other people complained about Chet's presence.

"Yeah?" the guy asked, laughing. "What are you dressed for?"

"Tell him, Romeo is here," Chet said in a voice I didn't recognize.

Chet's right leg began to keep beat to music coming from inside.

"What the hell did you say?" the bouncer asked with hostility in his voice.

"You heard me. Tell him what I said. He'll pass me."

"Yeah, boss, there is some creep out here who looks like diamond Jim Brady," the bouncer said into the phone, before turning his back on us.

Chet's leg bounced and he stood in a way I'd never seen before. He did not look like the Chet I knew.

"Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir," the bouncer said into the phone before hanging it up. "Mr Romeo, someone will be down in a minute to escort you to your table."

With that the bouncer unfastened the velvet rope and Chet was going in before there was enough room to get past. People in line howled, and we paid no attention to anyone. We stopped in a place next to the stairs and just outside the main section of the club. I could hear the music and see different colored lights.

"Romeo," a well-dressed young man said as he came down the stairs. "You'd like your usual table?"

"That would be fine, Kenneth. Is Juliet here?"

"In her dressing room. She comes on a ten."

"You'll tell her I'm on the premises."

"She knows," Kenneth said as Chet walked beside him and I brought up the rear if anyone is interested.

"Wait right here," Kenneth said, going to the patrons at the table concerned.

Kenneth leaned over the shoulder of the man who looked in charge.

"Yes, Sir. I'm going to need to ask you to come to another table. This table has been reserved and you shouldn't have been seated here."

"What are you talking about? I waited three hours to score this table. You'll need to drag me away from this table."

Kenneth stood letting his voice calm down. He leaned back to speak again.

"The owner has asked that you be seated at his table. Your evening at Over the Rainbow will be on the house, and he'll be sure you get to meet Juliet, once she's done for the evening," Kenneth told him.

"Well, in that case, this table is all yours, Mack."

Another guy who looked a lot like Kenneth, escorted the customers away from the table where we were going to be seated. A waiter came to take away the glasss and wipe the table down. He smiled at us as he took the trash away.

"Kenneth," Romeo said. "Ginger ale for me and Coke for my friend."

Kenneth looked a little like this might be a bridge too far, but he reined in whatever was running through his mind to say, and instead he said, "Yes, Sir."

Romeo's eyes took it all in. He started at our table and let his eyes wash over everything in their path on the right side of the huge dance floor. He reversed their search to cover the left side of the club. His eyes became focused on something on the far side of the dance floor, directly across from the table.

I couldn't see anything of interest until a young woman made an appearance among the dancing customers as she was coming directly toward us. When she was ten feet away, Romeo stood, and she walked into his arms.

"Romeo! Where the fuck have you been? I thought you were dead. They told me you went off with some black man. Who is this? You couldn't have alerted Daddy you were coming? We had to have his tailor tell us. You didn't say goodbye. You didn't tell anyone where you were going?" She reeled off as though she'd practiced it all the way across the dance floor.

"It's a long story. It wasn't a plan. I was killing myself. I'd be dead if I hadn't gotten out of here. It just happened. You look nice, Dorothy."

"You look wonderful. Who's this? Matching rings. Don't tell me. You're in love. I remembered you were doing Kim. Now your doing boys?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my idea to do Kim and it was no labor of love."

Juliet laughed.

"I will ask again, who is this?"

"Z, this is Juliet to my Romeo. Juliet, my lover Z."

"It's nice meeting you. You can keep this character under control?"

"Not a problem," I assured her, being blown away be the dynamics.

"You intend to dance?"

"I was considering it. Would you dance with me, Juliet?"

Juliet stood looking up into Chet's deep green eyes.

"I'd be honored if you'd dance with me, Romeo."

"I'll let the man on the spotlight know. I shouldn't sit here with you and your boyfriend. Maybe talk for a few minutes. Where were you? I heard you were dead. I heard some black man took you out of here the last night you were seen."

"He offered to take me somewhere to get clean. I went with him."

"You're obviously clean. I've never seen you look better," she told him.

"You never saw me sober. I was in the bag most of the time at the end."

"Daddy won't let you come back. You broke Daddy's heart, you know?"

"He doesn't have a heart. He thought he'd lose money without me."

"That too. He let me marry Ahmed," she said.

"You married Ahmed without telling your father. He had to accept it."

"Well, he lets us stayed married."

Chet laughed.

"You do look good, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't actually speak to Ahmed, but Ahmed doesn't have a thing to say to Daddy. It works out kind of nice for me," Juliet said. "You still had your costume? You came to dance. Daddy might forgive you if you dance with me. He said he wasn't coming down because he was afraid he'd hit you. Daddy was even angrier than I was with you. He stood at the top of the stairs to make sure it was you after he sent Kenneth down. If he'd heard you went off with a black man, he'd have blown a gasket."

"I haven't danced since I left here," Romeo said to Juliet. "I came to dance."

"Well, you should be well rested then," she said, kissing his cheek. "I shouldn't be talking to you. I don't come on until ten. I'll tell Daddy. He'll want to change the marquee for old time's sake."

"I don't care about that. One dance for old time's sake with you would be worth the admission for most of these folks."

"We were good, Romeo. We were good."

"Kim?"

"With an Italian kid. I saw her at a new place across town. She still looks twenty-five. I'd like to take whatever it is she takes," Juliet quipped.

"Those young boys she's with, she drinks their blood," Romeo said in all seriousness.

Juliet began laughing hysterically.

"We would never have met, if not for Kim," Juliet said.

"And your daddy."

"And my daddy. You do know they went together one time, while he was married to my mother incidentally."

"Nothing those two do would surprise me," Romeo said. "They both got their money's worth out of me."

"Yes, they did, but no one expected you to be the hit you were."

"You were the hit, Juliet. I was the guy who danced with Juliet."

"No, you held your own. I missed you, after you were gone. Daddy tried to replace you. None of them could carry your dancing shoes."

"You are too kind. You remember our routine?"

"I'll never forget it, Romeo. I go on at ten, I'll tell the man on lights that he uses for Romeo and Juliet. Daddy has probably told him. He saw you wearing the Romeo outfit. He told me, 'He's come to dance with you.'"

I drank my Coke and listened. Juliet didn't act like a star. She was pretty, and I could imagine her dancing. She was thin and sleek looking. The two of them looked good standing together. I could see how people would love them, speaking of beautiful people.

"I need to get dressed. Makeup is probably having a fit, wanting to know where I got off to. Daddy called to tell me, 'There's a guy out front who says, Romeo is here. You have any idea who it might be?'"

"Sounds just like Claude. He sent Kenneth to run interference for me."

"Had to. Only way I'd be able to find you."

"You found me."

"I did, and when I come on, once the spot hits me, you come on, and we'll pick it up from the top. The spotlight will be on us."

"She's nice," I said, once Juliet disappeared into the dancers.

"She is," he said.

"You're different," I said.

"I know. It'll pass. Go with it and it'll be over in a couple of hours. We'll go to Mama's and tomorrow we'll go home."

"I know," I said, wondering how he could look so different to me.

I knew it was Chet, but Romeo wasn't the same person. Romeo didn't walk like Chet does. He didn't stand like Chet. He had a confidence Chet didn't have. I could see how this might have appealed to him once.

At ten o'clock the band began playing music no one could dance to. I watched Romeo tapping his foot in a way that looked like he meant business. All the lights dimmed, and when the spotlight came on, Juliet stood in the center of it. The applause came up and a second spotlight hit our table. Romeo stood and ran to Juliet as the band began to play the music they danced to.

I wasn't watching Chet. I was watching Juliet dance with her Romeo. If they missed a step or two, I'd never have known it. They were a matched set. They looked as though they'd been dancing together for a long long time, and the spotlight never left them in the dark, or they never left it.

The music was robust, romantic, super charged, and mellow to the ear. They danced like lovers in love. They couldn't get enough of each other. They were dancing like they might never dance together again. Romeo looked incredibly attractive in the shirt that glittered, and Juliet's pure white dress was just perfect.

Romeo controlled the pace, sold their love, and danced like I'd never seen any man dance before. It made me want to dance, and Chet and I had never danced, but we would now that I'd seen how incredibly he danced. We hadn't been together for me to know everything about Chet, but I learned something tonight, and I wouldn't soon forget my husband was a headliner. I didn't even mind sharing him with Hollywood for a night.

By the time they came back out for a third time, the dance floor was covered in carnations. The people who would dance until early in the morning would be invited to take a few carnations home with them as a memory of a night to be remembered.

I could hear Romeo breathing hard once he returned to our table. He was out of shape to dance for an hour without a pause. They danced two sets back to back, because they were only dancing one time. The applause went on after the spotlight went out.

Soft lights came up, the band played some rousing marching music before going back into a slow dance number that would start the customers invitation to get back on the floor and clean up the flowers.

"You're good," I said, as Chet drained his ginger ale.

A fresh one had been placed next to the one that came earlier. Chet couldn't get enough.

"We've got to go, Z. I told T we'd not be long after when we got to Mama's."

We got up and headed for the front door. No one noticed or got in our way. Romeo and Juliet kissed during the last curtain call, and that must have been goodbye. While I didn't know what I was in for, and what I got was far more exciting than I imagined watching two people dancing would be.

"Look," I said, when I looked back toward the entrance.

Chet stopped to turn around to look at the marquee:

Tonight Only: Romeo & Juliet

"Claude never misses a trick. It's over now."

A News 5 camera truck was across the street and they were filming the marquee.

"Let's get out of here before they see me. I don't need to make the news. Let's go, I did what I came to do."

"You did and you looked damn good doing it. You are my headliner," I said.

"I have one thing to show you before we head for Mama Rosa's."

Chet took my hand. We walked a few blocks, and we turned down a street that was darker. The air seemed heavier. We walked down the street for only a minute or two, when Chet stopped.

His toe moved over one section of sidewalk. The trash was everywhere. The debris was heavier, more persistent. When I looked closer, I realized what the trash was. None of it was fresh. The flowers were dead where River Phoenix died. A chill ran through me. Chet reached down to brush his hand on the spot.

"The next generation of Hollywood royalty was what T told me River was."

"The night he took me to Mama Rosa's, T took me here first. He wanted to connect me to the future he saw for me if I kept going down the road I was on. River Phoenix helped save my life. He'd be in his fifties now, if he'd lived."

It was a startling site to see. Chet's hand reached down to brush the dead flowers off the spot. We stood silent for a few minutes.