You're Just Too Good To Be True

The Big Date

Mike opened the door to his black Cadillac, and as she slid onto the hot black leather of his passenger seat, he got a glimpse of her sexy thighs. He thought they looked great in her black sheer pantyhose. 'I can't wait to tear those off later,' he thought.

Mike couldn't get Tracey off of his mind since they met Thursday night. He was on such a high from their encounter that evening, he didn't care that during rehearsal with Micky on Friday that he was running on fumes. It was hard to contain his excitement, and Micky even commented on his "good mood," as Mike had been feeling overwhelmed lately. The studio had been putting the pressure on them to make a new record, but Mike wasn't feeling as enthusiastic as he had been, and had been trying to get out of his contract. The stress of his putting out a record he didn't want to be part of in the first place, and with his separation from Phyllis, had made him feel like he needed a fresh start somewhere, as both chapters in that part of his life were closing.

He had felt something with Tracey he couldn't quite put his finger on. He wasn't sure if there was more to this attraction, and maybe seeing her sing was something he needed in order to give him inspiration to finally leave The Monkees behind. But, he was intrigued by her knowledge of songwriting, and the fact that she also moved to LA with practically nothing to make it as a singer with little experience. It reminded him of his story, and they shared that commonality. Although he found her gorgeous, he knew there was something more to his attraction and his initial draw to Tracey.

Mike slid into the driver's seat and said to Tracey "You really look groovy in that dress," as he gave her that sexy side glance she couldn't get enough of.

"Thank you," Tracey said as she looked out the passenger window and blushed. "So, I'm a looker, huh?"

Mike looked down and his face turned beat red, grinned from ear to ear, and said "I'm going to kill Pete."

They pulled in front of the Beverly Hills Hotel, and Tracey looked at Mike and said "This is where we are eating?"

"Well, I wanted to take you some place nice," he said as he shyly smiled.

'Oh god, this is a mistake. Does he have a room reserved here for us already?! I am a fuck buddy!' Tracey thought as her stomach sunk.

The bell boy opened her door, and she walked up to Mike who was standing there with is arm stuck out for her to grab. They walked up the red carpet to the glass doors of the high-class hotel. He then walked Tracey to the Polo Lounge.

Mike greeted the host, and she walked them to a private booth in the back corner. Tracey slid into the middle of the booth that was shaped in a half-circle, the white table cloth tickled the top of her knee, which made Tracey let out a giggle. 'I'm so silly, Mike was being honest with me this whole time, he genuinely likes me, I need to stop freaking out,' she thought to herself.

Mike slid in the opposite side and gently grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"You deserve a nice night out, and in Beverly Hills, this is where it's at," Mike said, giving her a little wink.

Tracey felt like she had to pinch herself. A week ago, if someone had told her she would first of all be single, but that she would be on a classy date with none other than Mike Nesmith, she would have never believed them. It's strange the twists and turns life has in store, and she knew that this was a night she would treasure forever, even if her and Mike didn't work out.

She started reading the menu, and Mike talked to the waiter, who seemed to know him. He ordered a bottle of champagne, and also a whiskey neat for both of them.