"So let me see if I have this right, you're going to force the largest shareholder to sell out to you this weekend, although he thinks he is here to buy you out for a fraction of the worth because you need money to cover a bad business decision. Only your business is fine, you just incorporated it under a new name and sold it to another company you already own." Faith took a slow sip of her Sauvignon Blanc, enjoying the sweet wine's gentle tingle.
Faith took another bite and waved her fork at Mac. "It seems straight forward to me." A quick sip of wine. "Which probably means it is complicated as hell."
Smart girl. Mac smirked at her. Complicated, sure that was one word you could use for 10 years of careful decisions, strategic business purchases and family honor on the line. "I suppose it is that."
"So Mac can I ask what it is you think I can help with?"
Mac took a long swallow of wine, letting it slip slowly down her throat…it was a fair question, 100% expected but one Mac wasn't sure she could answer, because frankly she had no idea what exactly it was Faith was going to be doing. She had a vague idea sure, but the invitation to lunch had been uttered before she realized what she had said. As of this morning, after a long night staring at her ceiling considering what exactly what role Faith could play she wasn't any closer to figuring it out. It was an odd feeling, usually her life was planned too the iota, deviations just didn't occur. Now she'd taken a left turn on the road to nowhere without a map and she was just a little perplexed.
Why couldn't her life be nice and scripted …like the movies….Oh god, it was a cliché….it was pure stupidity….Mac took another swallow of her wine in silent toast. "Thank you Ms. Julia Roberts"
"I need a companion, like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman." Mac held up a hand before the sputtering blond dumped her wine over her head. "NOT the sex. I need someone on hand for dinners, meetings and whatever else comes up. Someone who can blend in and just provide an extra set of eyes and ears. I'll point out people I'll need you to watch and listen to when I walk out of a room. I'll need your impressions and insight. Most of all I am going to need you to be the main line of communication with Lizette Bouchard who is currently in my employ."
Mac took a small bite, chewed thoroughly before continuing. "I understand about your dance schedule and I'll provide all money needed for clothing and incidentals. The pay is 5 thousand up front and 15 after the deal goes through. Oh and everything and anything is to be kept strictly confidential."
Faith felt like she just took a ride on a tilt-a-whirl, her head was spinning and she wasn't sure if it had been fun or nauseating. Twenty thousand dollars?! Who paid that kind of money for essentially a long date? Somebody a few crayons short of a box that's who. She needed to stand up and thank her hostess and walk out the door and forget….forget the conversation, and last night, and that smile….and…the most intense, beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. Her stomach rebelled. Faith shook her head slightly and gave into the only answer she was capable of. "Okay, it sounds…. interesting."
Mac's eyebrows shot up. Well that was easy.
Faith put a warning finger in the air "BUT, I'm only agreeing to try it for a few days. If anything makes me uncomfortable I'm done. If it interferes with my show, I'm done. If anybody at anytime does not respect me I'm done. If anything illegal or borderline illegal happens I'm done. And if"
A warm finger covered her lips as an easy smile lit up Mac's eyes. "If you don't like anything you are free to call the deal off, no harm no foul and you'll owe me nothing."
The mouth under her finger stretched into a smile of its own and the movement caused a shiver to race down Mac's spine as she slowly put her hand down.
"Well, then I guess I should ask when I do I start?"
"How about dinner tonight after the show? I can introduce you the other members of my team and after we can talk a little more about the specifics."
"Sounds good. where are we going? I just want to know what to wear."
"Would you mind if I had something sent over?" Mac crossed her fingers.
"Uhhh, sure, I guess. I'm umm a size four." Faith felt the heat creep up her face.
"Shoes?"
"I'm sure I have something." Please, please, please don't make me tell you my shoe size. Let it go Mac.
"Indulge me?" Mac tilted her head, a lock of hair obscuring her right eye as she stared beseechingly at the flustered woman.
Awww shit. With her hair covering half her face Mac looked like hopeful child. "Size 8." Faith discreetly grasped her pant leg to keep her hand from reaching across the table and tucking Mac's wayward hair out of the way.
Mac raised an eyebrow.
Faith felt her face go from warm to burn and cleared her throat… "Size 9…."
Mac rested her chin on her hand and just waited.
Faith blushed a little harder "and a half"
Mac enjoyed a tiny thrill of victory "Sounds easy enough, I'll have it brought to you backstage tonight."
Faith checked her watch and was surprised at the time. "Mac, I hate clichés but I have to eat and run. Practice starts in 20 minutes and I need to warm up."
*****************
Claire contentedly crunched an ice cube. "I don't know Mac., it seems a little risky this late in the game." She tilted her glass back and grabbed another cube and sucked as she considered the hazards. "Then again I think it has a lot of merit. The kid might actually supply a little distraction." Claire didn't feel the need to clarify who exactly it was she thought would be distracted, and she sincerely hoped it would be one tightly wound brunette.
Mac was very grateful that she had finished swallowing or else Claire would be holding her to another lobster dinner. She had been expecting the VP to grab her by her neck and squeeze. Instead she was eating ice cubes and calmly discussing possibilities. Everything in her world was going upside down and backwards. She found herself muttering "This town has completely warped my life."
Claire paused in mid sentence. "Hmmm…did you say something Mac?"
"Nothing, why?"
Claire felt positively gleeful at her boss's obvious confusion. She couldn't wait to meet this blond marvel who had Mac's composure around her ankles. She signaled the cocktail hostess for another round. "Sorry, I'm just imaging things. Anyhow where was I? Oh that's right…"
I wonder if the show is going well. Mac vaguely realized there was a fresh drink in front of her. Grateful fingers grasped the cool glass and prayed Claire wasn't discussing anything she needed to remember. Yet another thing she was doing a lot of lately, losing track of conversations. Losing track of conversations and thinking about a certain blond woman with an incredible body. An incredible very flexible body. Whoaaa Nelly…incredible, flexible body where had that come from?! She squinted at her glass. What the hell is in this thing?
Claire had stopped talking a minute earlier and was just staring at Mac and desperately trying not to laugh at the hunched figure staring in consternation at her drink oblivious to everything. It is about time my friend. She reached and tapped Mac's hand "So at what time can we expect our little German guest to arrive?"
Mac placed her drink down and slid it away with a definitive push. "I believe the ass will grace us with his presence sometime midmorning day after next. I want to have a little dinner tonight for a brief review. I've invited Faith and Lizette, and unless the Playboy convention is in town I bet Willy will be by for dessert."
"William is coming? I would think that a business dinner would be something he would avoid at all costs." Claire drained the last of her drink.
"Think Claire, four beautiful women alone, obviously starved for male attention. It almost qualifies as an obligation for the man." She waited for Claire to stop laughing. "Anyhow, I had the concierge make reservations at the High Roller's club for 10pm, hopefully that will give the ladies a chance to freshen up after the show."
"That will work. Oh, I called in today and ended up talking to Greta since she was covering phones. She passed on the news that we landed those six Danish ships for next quarter."
"Yeah, it will be tight but I'm happy we nailed that one. I think that I'm going to go back to my room and call in and see if the contracts can be faxed over." Mac signaled to the bartender and handed over her room card to take care of the tab.
"I should probably go put out some sweat at the gym. I skipped yesterday and with all these dinners I'll be going back a whole new woman." Claire stood.
"Go ahead, I'll sign for this." Mac waved her away, waiting patiently for Claire to disappear and giving her time to make it to the elevator.
Mac glanced down at her watch before making her way out of the bar and across the lobby to the bank of elevators. As the elevator made its way to the 11th floor Mac tugged on her suit coat, smoothing the black fabric and touched the top of her head to make sure her hair remained secure in the french twist. She fingered the maroon and black paisley silk scarf, evening out the ends right before the doors opened.
Her knock on room 1120 was answered immediately. "MacKenna, you are looking well. Please won't you come in."
Mac followed her host, sinking down into the plush chair.
"Do you still enjoy your tea with honey?"
At her nod a warm cup was passed over. "Thank you for coming, but you didn't need to meet me, an associate would have been sufficient."
A brief smile from her host and a nod, "It was not a problem, I think it was time for a vacation and I enjoy Vegas. You have come alone."
Mac could hear the question behind the statement. "I'm the only one that needs to know you are here."
An amused expression and slight nod, " Hmmm… how very cloak and dagger of you MacKenna. It is a nice twist."
"You didn't expect any less from me I hope?" Mac selected a ladyfinger from the plate before leaning back and crossing her legs.
"If there is one thing I have learned in this life is to expect something is to waste effort. To waste effort is to waste time. To waste time is to waste life. I have wasted enough of my life."
"I'll have to remember that perspective. I'm afraid my own outlook is somewhat more ambiguous." Mac picked back up her teacup.
"That is a bane of youth, but enough on life's philosophy. I am more curious as to the why this packet," a thick manila envelope was lifted. "is going to help you."
*****************
Faith spied the garment bag as she stepped towards her makeup desk. Lowering the zipper revealed a midnight blue cocktail dress with spaghetti straps made from minute navy rhinestones. It wasn't until after her shower and slipping the dress on that she noticed the same rhinestones in a lose spiral pattern part way up the skirt on the left side.
The bottom of the bag held a pair of shoes made from small bands of material echoing the dress' spaghetti straps. Slipping them on, Faith regretted not going for the size 10. It was the one drawback to dancing her entire life…dancers do not have dainty feet.
Last item in the bag was a small box. Faith rattled it with a grin on her face. Lifting the cover revealed a folded note tucked between blue and red boxes. The lettering was bold and solid with an unexpected artistic sprawl to the script. "Thought these would finish the look, I didn't know which would be your style, but I love the ones in the red box. See you tonight ~ Mac" Faith didn't even look at the blue box as she lifted the next lid and pulled out simple sapphire earrings and a small pendant on a thin chain accented with spray of diamonds along the edge.
Finished Faith spun in front of her mirror, enjoying the subdued glimmer of the rhinestones. The giddy feelings threatened to consume her so she just started laughing.
A low wolf whistle made Faith spin around and come face to face with Paige.
"Now Faith don't stop on my account." Paige gestured with one finger in a rapid circular motion, "Come on, give a girl a twirl, lemme check you out."
Faith spun in a slow circle while Paige eyed her critically, one hand casually resting on her hip.
Paige nodded in appreciation. "Swank my friend, very, very swank. Where are you headed all dolled up?"
"Remember my brush with William Cranston's guest yesterday?" She waited for Paige to nod before continuing.
"I ran into her at the premiere party and she sort of saved me from one of the Romeo wannabes trying to grab anything in a skirt that wasn't their wives."
"Oh really? Well that was very nice of her. I'm sorry I didn't pay better attention." Paige grabbed the desk chair and spun it around before straddling it, resting her forearms along the back.
Faith laughed "Last time I checked you weren't in charge of my honor. After she chased the guy away she invited me out for a drink. I think she had a really good time, I know I did. When we were going home she invited me up for lunch today in her suite."
Both Paige's eyebrows shot up. Faith flushed before pointing an indignant finger and poking Paige's forehead. "Not," poke. "like," poke. "that."
Paige grabbed the offending finger and pushed her away, rubbing her forehead and grumbling, "Hey, ouch!"
Faith folded her arms across her chest. "Well get your mind out of the gutter. We had a very nice lunch and she asked me if I could help her out during her stay. It was a very generous proposition and I accepted."
Paige's mouth opened. Faith raised her finger and just glared. "I wouldn't if I were you, I'd just shut my mouth and do it quickly." Paige brought her jaw together with a snap.
Faith retracted the offending finger "The job is supposed to be escorting her to dinners and meetings and watching the people around her. Personally, I think the whole point to my job is to keep an eye on Lizette. Mac, the woman I'm working for, has her involved in some business meetings here at the hotel. Though what she thinks I'm going to be able to do with Lizette is beyond me."
Paige rested her chin on her arms. "God himself couldn't do anything with Lizette so don't worry about it. In my opinion the only reason Lizette isn't worm food by now is our good lord is terrified of having her on his hands. Of course this explains that." Paige's arm pointed behind Faith.
Faith glanced over her shoulder and groaned. Brenda was standing in front of Lizette's door pounding away, her face contorted and an interesting shade of purple, yelling something through the wood. "Jesus, I don't think Mac is paying me enough."
Paige started laughing as Lizette's door finally opened and Brenda started pacing back and forth in front of her, yelling animatedly. Lizette was just leaning against the doorframe watching the show with calm disinterest.
Paige bounced to her feet "Tomorrow's your day off right?"
The stricken look on Faith's face didn't waver as she slowly nodded. Brenda was now speaking to the ceiling with both arms raised above her head.
Paige was laughing hard enough to grab a tissue off Faith's desk and wipe her eyes. She reached over and patted Faith's cheek. "You go on and have fun kiddo. I'll grab the details from you later if you don't run screaming into the desert first. Actually, make that second. I think Brenda's heading there before you."
********************
Will Cranston sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his monogrammed slippers. His faux retro alarm clock read 12:22am. With a sigh he put down the portable phone. A lesser man might be annoyed that the woman was late, but he was not one of those inferior members of his own sex who did not grasp the vagaries of women. He stretched out on the bed and moved the phone to his chest content to wait for it to ring. No, he William Cranston knew that the sign of a true gentleman was the constant supply of patience and manners.
12:28am finally brought the desired ring.
Lifting the phone to his ear Will answered with a chuckle. "Why Mrs. Duprey, I do believe you almost broke my heart tonight. Here I was thinking the most beautiful woman to grace my evening had forgotten to call. I am afraid the only apology that will suffice is news that you are leaving your husband and running away with me."
Claire's laughter filled his ears, delighted with his friendly flirting. "Ahh…Willy, I would but I will only settle on Elvis marrying us and since he is long since dead, I am afraid so is our chance at bliss."
"My poor heart can barely beat under the weight of your rejection, but I tonight I push my own despair aside for my dear cousin. I believe that with a little encouragement the mighty Ms. Maccado might actually take a cupid's arrow to the heart and have her own chance at bliss. We must not allow her to fall into the bowels of despair that we find ourselves in."
"Bowels of despair? William, that is dramatic even for you. Mighty MacKenna is going to need a little help if I know the woman. And William? I know the woman."
He could hear resignation lacing Claire's tone. "So if you know her so well, I shall name you Captain Claire. Captain Claire of our plan and of my heart, with you at the helm our ship will never sink. Now Captain, what course do you propose we chart?"
"You're going to make sure that one Faith Lyons has plenty of time off. Especially since Mac so uncharacteristically agreed to go play hooky for a day. You own the place, act like it."
********************
The night breeze toyed with Mac's hair as she stepped out on the balcony. The thin cotton of her night shirt provided little defense against the chill as a brief gust chased up her leg, leaving goose bumps in its wake. She placed her glass down on the mosaic table and pulled her robe closed.
She lugged a lounge chair over to the table and lowered herself, drawing her legs up. She picked up her glass and rested it on a knee, studying the etchings in the crystal. The glow from the strip lit the amber liquid inside and Mac rocked her leg gently letting the tinkle of the ice against the side slowly hypnotize her. Johnny Walker Black Label, her grandfather's drink of choice. Lifting it to her lips she took a small sip, feeling the burn trace its way down her throat.
Dinner had been surprisingly casual. William had appeared for dessert amid a sting of flattery that would have made a grade girl swoon. Claire had kept the conversation running and the entire affair seemed to amuse Lizette, whom for whatever reason had halted her campaign to get Mac naked.
And Faith and been captivating. From the moment Mac had spotted her walking across the restaurant she had an overwhelming tightness in her chest. Faith was vivacious and animated, drawing her companions' attention. Halfway through the meal, when Faith had made eye contact with her and gave her this little sexy wink, Mac knew there was no point in denying what her body was clamoring for. Her mind craved Faith's intelligence, her heart craved the warmth from her smile and her fingers longed to trace the smooth skin hidden from view. So wrapped up in that very thought Mac had barely registered Faith's request to show her around on her day off. So wrapped up she had agreed without even considering no…and damn it, she was not going to feel guilty!
Tomorrow she was going to forget and enjoy a few hours of the life everyone else seemed to be living. Tonight, however, she would sit here and remember exactly what started her on this path.
Another long swallow brought forth the memories she sought. Bits of history that gave her the power to wake up each morning and continue until this little drama ended. Here, in the cover of night it was her duty remember it was her decision to fight this battle. Nobody forced her, it was never expected. Her eyes drifted shut as the alcohol and evening breeze carried her thoughts back ten years.
That morning the dirt over Uncle John's grave had finally been covered with sod and a simple marker indicated where the headstone would be placed. The answers to so many questions lay just under the earth, hushed by a desperate man's last bullet two weeks ago. Mac wanted to be angry but right now in the stillness of the cemetery she envied his peace.
She strode over to her Grandfather's plot and traced the date engraved on the stone. At his service six months ago she could not have fathomed how a family could unravel so quickly, leaving her grasping at the strands desperate to put it back together.
Did he know what his son was doing? Did he know his wife would be left in tatters? Could he have imagined that his life's work would rest in his granddaughter's hands?
Mac was certain he would want her to take Anton Schultheiss' offer. Her grandmother would be comfortable and Mac could take the offer from The Auborn Companies. She slipped her hand in her jacket pocket and traced the edge of the envelope resting safely inside. Stamped and ready to send back her acceptance she just needed to get through today.
Mac could still feel the weight of that letter. How confident she had been that accepting the position was her destiny. A few hours later that same day long ago she had also learned that you never truly knew any one person entirely and destiny could be flipped in the time it took to turn your head.
Lunch had just been served and Mac stole the opportunity to leave the oppressive atmosphere of the boardroom. The estate lawyers had the offer contracts and Schultheiss' pack of wolves paced around in their dark suits sure of the kill.
She trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the absence of staff cloaking the offices in quiet save for the drone of an incoming fax. Empty office cubes stood in silent testament to the lives resting on the her decision, lives she was sure were putting the beautiful Saturday morning to much better use. Mac crossed to the large bay window and leaned against the frame. Below the dock operated with brisk efficiency to unload a Japanese cargo liner.
Sons working next to fathers, brothers taunting brothers amid swinging cranes and forklifts, a choreographed display she had witnessed countless times growing up. This town was small and Ward Stevedoring beat right in the heart of it. Twenty-four hours a day, shifts would labor until the liner was on her way. It was their sweat and spirit that built the company but her decision on what that effort was worth.
A muffled keening carried across the quiet and Mac snapped out of her maudlin thoughts. Turning she realized the corner office door was partially opened. Curiosity pushed her forward and she stalked through the maze of cubes.
Mac paused in the doorway, surprised to see Julia Schultheiss huddled over her grandfather's desk one hand grasping a glass paperweight. Caught between feeling like a voyeur and feeling violated Mac couldn't decide upon retreating or confronting the sobbing woman. There was no decision when bloodshot eyes looked up.
Before she had a chance to speak Julia Schultheiss stood and straightened her suit. Sure steps carried her to the door and she held out the paperweight to Mac. She made no effort to wipe her tears. "Ms Ward, I apologize for missing the funeral service, he was an amazing man your grandfather."
Mac opened her mouth to respond but before she was able utter a word Julia continued
staring down at the object still grasped in it, her tone losing its formal edge as the accent became more pronounced. "He loved this silly paperweight, he always claimed he could hold the world in the palm of his hand." She slipped it into Mac's hand and started to walk away.
Mac stared at the smooth glass, running a thumb over the slick surface of the sphere with the tiny globe suspended in the center. She could see her grandfather sitting at his large executive desk, deep in thought holding the piece of glass in his hand. It was how he thought out all his most difficult decisions. "Consider the bigger picture, MacKenna. Don't think local, think global." It was an intimacy few knew.
"Mrs. Schultheiss...Julia..wait." Mac crossed to her quickly her resolve strengthening with each step. The older woman turned, grief and guilt chiseling lines across her features. Mac held out the paperweight. "Perhaps there would be space in your home for this?"
The woman swallowed hard and nodded, reverently taking the glass and putting it in her handbag. Glancing up a ghost of a smile flitted on her face. "Thank you, it will have a space of honor." She cleared her throat before continuing. "Ms. Ward if I were you I would not sign my husband's papers, there are doubts hiding in your eyes. She hesitated before continuing, "He would be proud of you, you know, your grandfather. No matter which direction you choose today, please, at least believe that."
She left before Mac could think of a reply.
Left in the quiet of the third floor Mac walked over to her grandfather's office to shut the door. Grasping the knob she hesitated, and then walked behind the desk and sat down. Relaxing against the leather chair she stared at the ceiling before closing her eyes
Lost in the familiar smell of leather, furniture polish and a hint of cologne she felt his voice rumble through her. The docks are no place for a girl.
Images floated through her mind. Laughter from holidays and birthdays. Her grandfather holding her up at the dock to point out the various types of cargo ships. A bottle of champagne breaking across the bow of a new ship, the broken end held in triumph by her grandmother as she pointed to her name emblazoned on the steel. The docks are no place for a girl. She felt the tears start and she let them fall unchecked, by the time she opened her eyes she had her answer.
He was right, the docks were no place for a girl but they were the perfect place for a woman.
To Be Continued...