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Bob Arum appeared, looking for the men's room. Heyman motioned to him and asked about Knievel's jump. After some small talk in which Arum complimented Heyman on the decor of the restaurant ("Very classy, Art, very classy") and wished him luck, Heyman could restrain himself no longer. "Bob, how was your steak?"
Arum paused a deliberate beat, and then said, "It was very good, Art, really good."
"No, tell me the truth. How was it?"
Arum nodded. "It was O.K. Not bad."
Korby blurted out, "We got to know, Bob. It's important to us."
Arum threw up his hands. "Well, actually, it could have been better."
"Thanks, Bob," says Korby. "That's the kind of thing we got to know, else how are we going to improve?"
"Actually, it could have been a lot better," added Arum. "It wasn't too good at all."
Shortly after midnight Heyman and his girl friend left Opus for the short taxi ride to his other East Side restaurant, the Gobblers Knob, a less flamboyantly decorated singles bar managed by Heyman's ex-wife Barbara. "We're on very good terms," he said.
Barbara Heyman is a striking strawberry blonde with huge eyes, an upturned nose and moist, pouty lips. She bears a close resemblance to Xavier Cugat's discovery, Charo. Like Charo, she, too, has a soft, full figure, although there is nothing of the dumb blonde about her. She was born and raised in Texas, has lived in New York City for seven years and now possesses that typically New York wariness about things and people that tends to give her soft physical appearance a sharp edge. She met Heyman when he was with the Pipers. Then, he had the confidence only an athlete can have, knowing his every deficiency, personal or physical, would be masked by an inexhaustible resource, the drawing account of his fame.