Vegas Hotel: The Female Bellhop

Chapter 4 - Southern-Style Lunch with The King

When this event finally ended, I was off to the side with Gena as Elvis was greeting the women again. We were already a half-hour over the time that was planned, but nobody seemed to care. I didn't. I was perfectly fine, enjoying watching that gorgeous man smile and please his fans. Also, I was so tickled to have the opportunity to eat a meal with him!

"I'm so jealous of you, sister dear," said Gena. "You get to have lunch with the King of Rock 'N' Roll. You sure it's not going to be like a date?"

"Definitely not. His whole party will be with us."

"Including his handsome friend?"

She was eyeing Jerry. I had already told her his name. "I'm surprised you didn't know about Jerry Schilling before since you're such a big fan of Elvis's."

"I was a fan of him, not his friends. And maybe I knew about his friend Jerry, I just never thought to investigate him more. I should've. He's such a nice guy, and he was flirting right back as I was flirting with him earlier. If I could go along with you, I would stick to his side."

"It's shocking that you're ogling not Elvis but his best friend."

"Hey, Elvis is hooked to you, so there's no point in me ogling him."

My face heated again, and I glared at her. "He's not hooked on me, golly! He just gave me some nice complements that anyone would give a person who was saying horrible things about themselves."

"Say what you want."

I really hoped that Elvis sincerely meant what he said. It seemed like he did since he even said so. It was probably that self-deprecation seeping in. It was just insane that a man as gorgeous, kind, talented and famous as him thought such a way about little, nobody me.

Elvis's manager started talking with Mr. Lambert, saying that Elvis and everyone should be getting going now. Only a couple minutes passed before Elvis was out of sight. He gave me a head nod, indicating that I should follow the party out.

"Well, have fun, Amelia," Gena said with a wink, and she was off to her job. I took a breath and let it out as I went out to that back entrance, and I saw people out there through the doors. Elvis's manager was there at the doors, but Elvis nor anyone else with him wasn't. I stopped at the doors.

"Miss Brenton, I presume?" asked Colonel Tom Parker in some type of European accent, and he had on a tan suit and matching hat, and he held a cigar in between two fingers.

"Yes, sir."

"I heard that my boy invited you along for lunch after this."

This man was big and intimidating, but I wouldn't be fearful. At least, I would try not to be. "Yes, sir."

"Well, he wanted to wait here for you, but I just insisted on doing that. I actually wished to have a word with you for a minute before we head off."

My heart started beating faster in anticipation. "Alright, Colonel Parker. And what is that?"

He stood there, his cigar in hand, but it wasn't lit, his eyes scrutinizing. I was used to that. "Well, Miss Brenton, I am sure that you have figured out that my boy is quite the good Samaritan, helping others whenever he can, showing a kind hand as often as possible."

Where was he going with this? "Yes, I have noticed that. He helped me many times in the short time I've known him."

"Indeed, and that is what I want to address. I just do not want you to be hurt in the end. Some people see my boy's kindness as something different. I just hope that you don't think such things, that you expect something far more of him than mere kindness and even protection or friendship."