If you ever read the memoirs of death row killers, you'll find they contain one similarity. It's not they died at peace with the crimes they committed and the people they wronged. It's not the overwhelming feeling of regret or repentence, either. It's the walk. When they all make that walk to the chamber where they will be executed, every single one of those killers has said he could feel his heart beating outside of his body. I was feeling the same way.

My boss Gloria, who those in our department have always referred to as "bosslady," just talked me into social and professional suicide. She was going to accompany me to a bar, where she would ply me with drinks while I spilled all the male secrets of pursuing the females of the species. I'd probably have to go after some women in the bar while she watched as well. Though she presented the evening as a social experiment, I was wondering what Gloria's real motives were: Some voyeuristic fetish perhaps, or just your garden-variety power trip. I wasn't sure. Bosslady already told me to meet her at 7, so I wasn't going to have any time to go home and feed the ugly dog before going over to the bar.

And it wasn't just any bar; it was Delmonicos. For those who live outside the Los Angeles area, Delmonicos is a seafood restaurant with a generous-sized bar attached. It is always busy and terribly difficult to get into, reason being over the past few years Delmonicos has become a place for the beautiful people to be seen. When Julia Roberts and Benjamin Bratt grew tired of keeping their relationship a secret and wanted the world to know, they went to Delmonicos and got very cozy in public. The next day their picture was sprayed all over the tabloids. When Teri Hatcher wanted to fire her manager, she did it out in the open at Delmonicos, because it served the additional need of advertising her need for a new manager. She knew the high and mighty would be in attendance and could put the word out that Terri was looking for a new manager. Within days she had a new one, and a couple of weeks after that Teri Hatcher was signed to play the lead character on Desperate Housewives. People who want their moment in the limelight go to Delmonicos. Business professionals take their clients there, because it sends the message that they know people and can pull the right strings.

Delmonicos was a bit over my head and I knew it. I'd need a way to swing the odds back in my favor. I sat at my desk and thought about it for a while, and then gulped when I came to an obvious but regrettable solution. I knew what, or rather who, I needed. I needed Melinda.

Melinda would be my ace in the hole on two counts: She could really work a room with her looks and knack for dressing seductively, and I needed that on my side to turn the heads of some of the power players our way. She also was more my age, and there's an addage that maintains guys appear more desirable to women if the dudes are surrounded by beautiful women. It heightens the competition between women and is a way to exploit their vindictive nature, or something. I was not going to get any of that should I be there with just Gloria. She is good looking for her age, and takes care of herself, but being seen with a woman 20 years my senior was not going to help me.

I went by Mel's desk and divulged my plan. She would show up unannounced and I'd invite her to our corner of the bar under the premise that another woman would help with Gloria's experiment even more. I had no way of knowing just what Bosslady had up her sleeve, but I knew damn sure I was going to need an ally going into Delmonicos. I'm a fan of Tombstone and all, but you aren't gonna survive going in like Wyatt Earp with your guns cocked and loaded. You need help. You need another person wielding the guns with you. You need a Doc Holiday.

"Are you serious with this?" Mel asked as I recounted the events and asked for her help.

"Does it sound like I'm fucking joking here? Gloria Simms is meeting me at a bar so she can pick my brain about how the single man lives. I can't go in there alone, I need your help Mel."

I said the words that were both magical and damning. Help. I knew she'd jump at the opportunity. Women want the chance to help turn guys into something and steer them in every which way. It has to be a fucking rehab project with them. And Mel was down with that. But I realized the other reason she would consider helping me: I'd be in debt to her. I didn't even want to think about what she would want in return. The repercussions would be scary. She would have the upper hand.

Mel realized her newfound power, and it immediately showed in her body language. She stood up from her desk, circled around in my direction, and then sat at the edge of the desk right up against me. Her blood red skirt inched up a bit as she straightened her legs and tightened her calf muscles to accentuate their firm tone. I tried my best to seem disinterested.

"So the great womanizer Reed needs my help..."

"Please Melinda, I'm asking sincerely," I played along.

"But why would you need me? I mean, you had no problem meeting women that night we were at the Halloween party - together, I might add."

Oh god, why does she have to even mention that? "Look, I need the ball to be more in my court. If I go alone with Gloria to Delmonicos, people will think I'm there with my mom, or worse, my sugar momma. No woman will give me the time of day. I can imagine their response: 'Did your mommy allow you to come out and play?' But see, having you there levels the playing field."

Melinda raised herself from her desk and flattened some wrinkles in her silk button-up shirt around her stomach - partly to show off the flatness of it, and partly to make her boobs heave a little more. She was waiting for me to tell her I needed her because she was so irresistable, so goddamn gorgeous. That wasn't gonna happen. She might be a commodity under the big top, but out on the street she's just another pretty face. It's a pity she couldn't make that connection.

"All right. I'll do it." She immediately changed her tone to a more playful one. "But you're gonna owe me mister. Boy will you ever." She punctuated the end of that line with a lusty grin.

"Yeah, don't I know it."

I started to walk out when Mel said from behind me "Hey, what time do I show up?"

Without turning, I grimly said "7:30," and closed her door behind me. This fiasco in the making was still 4 hours away and I was already regretting it.