by Jet MacLeod
“Touchy,” Drew stated, “Anyway, call me later. We could go do something or something.”
“Wait, Drew,” she said.
“Yeah, what is it?” he questioned.
“Do you still work for that moving business?”
“Yeah, why? What you need done?” he asked.
“I want you to get all of my stuff in Atlanta. I’ll pay double if you can have it here yesterday,” she stated.
“No prob, just give me the address and I am on it.”
“Just tell the landlord I sent you and that Camille was given the message. He will know what I mean,” she replied.
“Camille? Tell me you weren’t still with that bitch?” he begged.
“Not anymore, not anymore. Just take care of it for me, okay. I’ll owe you more. Double pay, for anyone who goes with you. By the way, you might need two trucks.”
“Not a problem,” he stated, “I’ll call you when we hit the Interstate on the way back, k?”
“Cool, thanks again, bud,” she replied.
“No big deal, that is what friends are for,” he answered.
“Thank you, friend,” she replied.
She had calmed down enough, now, thanks to Drew. She was glad that she had someone like him in her life. He was brutally honest to the end. She was glad.
She could only hope that she would remember what had happened the night before. She felt bad enough with the hangover, but to know that she had given a one woman show at the bar was a little too much even for her. She didn’t know how to react or what good it would do. It was in the past now. She had to move on.
She had to move on from Atlanta. She had to leave Camille behind. She had to face the future and what she was going to do with it. She knew that the lake house was part of that and so was a life in Columbia, but she didn’t know doing what.
She fought the urge to say something to Reagan for calling her parents again. She decided to use that anger to make herself smile, remembering that pay backs were a bitch. She dialed the landlord for her old condo in Atlanta.
“Jackson Condos, this is Tim, how can I help you?” the voice answered.
“Tim, this is Grace O’Shea from 52 C. I recently moved out and back to Columbia, but it has come to my attention that a Camille Grant, my ex-girlfriend is still using the residence,” she stated.
“Yes, ma’am, we know. We are awaiting her payment,” Tim replied.
“Don’t. She isn’t going to pay. She is expecting me to. As the lease holder I am asking you to change the locks and don’t give her the key. I have a mover named Drew Strong coming with some friends to get my things. Anything that is left you can use as payment for her rent. I am sorry to have to do this, but it has to be done,” she explained.
“No problem, ma’am, thank you for your honesty. I am sure that Greg will have no problems taking care of this situation for us. We will be discreet about it. I will leave the bill for Ms. Grant in the office. If for some reason she does decide to pay, she will have to sign a lease agreement with us before we will give her the new keys,” he stated.
“Good, oh, and Tim, thank you. Send me the cleaning bill, I’ll pay that,” she replied.
“No need, your deposit will cover that, Ms. O’Shea. You have been a wonderful tenant. If you ever need references for another condo, just let us know,” he told her.
“Thank you, Tim. Good day,” she said, hanging up the phone.
“Damn that felt good,” she said to no one, “Now, let’s see what the little bitch has to say to me. I am sure that she won’t like having her ‘sugar momma’ cutting her off.”
She decided to go back inside. She had gotten the anger out of her system, so she decided that it was time for her to deal with her father. She would have to call him about the house eventually. Now was as good as ever.
She dialed the numbers into her cell phone, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up so that she could leave a message. She heard it ring, once, twice, three times. She was about to hang up, when he picked up.
“O’Shea, here,” he said in his thick Irish lilt.
“Hello, Father,” Grace replied.
“Hallo, Gracie, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“Has Mum talked to you, yet, Dadda?” she asked.
“No, not yet, why?” he questioned.
“I have a proposal for you,” Grace stated.
“Aye, and what is that?’ he questioned.
“I want to buy the lake house from you,” she told him.
“What do you want with that?” he inquired.
“Well, considering I am living in it now, I thought since you were trying to sell it that I would buy it from you. I will pay whatever you are asking for it. That is all I want,” Gracie explained.
“Well now, that is interesting,” he stated.
“Why is that, Dadda?” she asked.
“Because you come home and offer to buy the house. You don’t tell us you are coming home and then you want to buy the house from me. I am not sure I understand that total reasoning behind this venture,” Padrick O’Shea stated.
“Do you need to know, Dadda? Or, will you just sell me the house?” Grace inquired.
“I really don’t need to know, no, but I would like to talk to you in person about this if that is possible. I would like to know that you are okay, my dear. I did fear for you for a long time. I just wish that you would come and see your mother and me,” he answered.
“I will, but I want to buy the house from you, soon. I have the money and all. I wish to get this over with, soon,” Grace stated.
“I’ll make you a deal then. I will sell you the house on the lake, if you come and have dinner with your mother and me on Wednesday at the manor. I will sell you the house on that condition and I will give you money off it,” he said.
“How much?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“How’s one hundred thousand sound?” he offered.
“Deal!” she said without thinking, “I’ll see you Wednesday night, then, Dadda.”
“Until then, Gracie Lynne,” he replied.
Chapter Two
Reagan sat at her desk in her office. She was plugging away at numbers and contracts. She was making money hand over fist with her technology services.
She decided to call Drew to make sure that he got Grace’s truck to her house. She was just as surprised as Drew was to see Grace at the bar last night. She knew that Drew and Grace had been friends in high school, when she was outcast in high school.
She picked up the phone and called Drew at the moving company, Heavy Lifters and asked for Drew. She was passed around the company before Drew picked up the call. He didn’t seem very surprised to be hearing from Reagan.
“What’s up, girl?” he asked.
“Nothing, just calling to make sure that you got Grace’s truck back this morning,” she stated.
“Yeah, it was back at her place by eight,” he answered.
“That’s good. Did you check on her?” she questioned.
“Nope, but she called me around eleven. I guess she was still hung over. I told her what happened last night and she was a little upset. I don’t think she really knew what she was doing,” he explained.
“Well, if I had that much, I don’t think I would remember what I had been doing,” she replied.
“That much is true. I should have cut her off before it ever got that far,” Drew stated.
“Did she say anything else to you?” Reagan asked.
“Just that she felt stupid. She couldn’t believe that she did what she did. Oh, yeah, and something about me getting her stuff from Atlanta for her,” he replied.
“I guess she had decided to stay,” Reagan said.
“I guess you could say that. She is giving me double to get it her ASAP. I need to go. I got the boys together. If we are going to get something today, then I have to apologize and go,” he stated.
“Wait, are you going to be at the bar tonight?” Reagan as
ked.
“Depends on how much we get done today in Atlanta. I’ll try and see you tonight, girl, bye,” he told her.
“See ya later, then Drew,” she said ringing off.
She glanced at her desk. Her thoughts were lost and she knew that she wasn’t going to be concentrating on her work for the rest of the day. She couldn’t help but think about Grace O’Shea.
“What are you doing?” Reagan asked herself.
She was day dreaming. It was bad enough that she had a crush on Grace in high school, but then with the impromptu strip session that Grace gave her last night in the bar, Reagan was back on the wagon. She had to admit that the fact that Grace was drunk made is slightly less enjoyable. Reagan was replaying the night before and the adventure that she had with getting Grace in bed.
She shook her head. How could she fight it when it came to Grace? It was a childhood crush that was getting out of hand, again. She shook her head, again. She couldn’t believe that she still wanted Grace.
“Reagan, I need approval on this case,” a worker stated bringing a file into Reagan’s office.
“Just leave it there. I’ll get to it in a minute,” she told him. The worker left the room.
Reagan just looked over the paperwork that he left. She shook her head as her thoughts turned from work back to Grace. She was lost and she knew it. Reagan knew she needed to get out of her head and back into business.
She looked over the paperwork once again. It was all wrong and she knew it. She didn’t care. She pulled out the required forms. Reagan knew that if she sent them back out to the main floor it would be days before she would see them again. She didn’t have that kind of time for this delay, so she set out to correct the problem.
Why can’t I hire someone who is capable of doing the work that needs to be done? Why do I bother with such things? I just can’t understand why people are so lazy about working these days. What the hell happened? Reagan thought to herself.
When she finished the forms, she faxed them to the appropriate venues. Reagan wasn’t sure she liked the fact that she had the number one consulting firm in Columbia, but she learned to live with it. It made her rich. She had so many clients and so much to do.
The phone rang. She didn’t want to answer it. She continued to do her work. Reagan didn’t want to think about anything else for the moment.
“Ms. Knightley?” her receptionist said into her intercom.
“Yes, Mrs. Bentley?”
“It is a Mr. Padrick O’Shea on line two. He says it is important and that he must speak with you, today. Something or other about his system slowing down, again,” Mrs. Bentley stated, once again into the intercom.
“Fine, tell him, I’ll talk to him. Just give me a minute to finish this paperwork. Tell him I am with a client or something,” Reagan answered.
“Right,” Mrs. Bentley replied.
Reagan finished what she was working on before she told Mrs. Bentley through the intercom to patch Mr. O’Shea through on her phone. She didn’t know if she really wanted to talk to the man, but she decided that she owed it to him, since she called him the night before about his daughter. She picked up the phone and said, “Hello.”
“Miss Reagan, I am so glad that you could take time out of your busy day to talk to me. I am sorry to have disturbed you. I am sure you other clients are as happy with your work as I am,” Padrick O’Shea told her.
“It seems that way, Mr. O’Shea. What can I do for you? Do you want another upgrade or do you need a service call? I could send some techs out,” she stated.
“No, this isn’t really a business call and I think that you know that,” he replied.
“I had a feeling that it wasn’t. Is this about last night?” she asked him.
“In a way, yes. I want to thank you for the information. I am sorry, however, that you had to give it to myself and my wife in the manner in which you did. I want to thank you personally for doing what you did for us,” he explained.
“Mr. O’Shea, that really isn’t necessary. I was just trying to help a friend,” she lied.
“I know that you and Gracie were never really friends, Miss Reagan,” he responded.
“Oh, well, I wasn’t going to let her drive home,” she said.
“I understand that. Listen, I would like you to come over to the manor and have dinner with us. How about Wednesday night? I have some computer stuff that only you will understand here at the house. Plus, I need you to help me network my home office to my office and whatever else you think I need to do,” he explained.
“Alright, I’ll come over and take a look at what you got, but I am not sure that I will stay for dinner,” Reagan told him.
“Well, you can’t say that an old man didn’t try. I would really like to have dinner with you though. Brianna will be disappointed if you don’t. She is beside herself because of what happened. She demanded that I ask you over for dinner,” he replied.
“Well, I guess we don’t want to disappoint the Misses, do we? I’ll see you Wednesday night, Mr. O’Shea,” she answered.
“It’s Padrick or Paddy, and be there at seven o’clock. Until then, wee Reagan,” he said, ringing off.
She looked at the phone, not quite sure what she had just agreed to. She replaced it on the base and laughed. Padrick O’Shea was the only one that she ever let call her little. Reagan had to say it was because of his thick Irish accent and the way that he said “wee Reagan.”
She had forgotten what it was like to have a life. She wanted something more. That was why she’d bought the bar down in the Vista. She renamed it and made it her own, but the clientele didn’t stay away. They loved the fact that it remained the same, but under new management. She had changed only a few things about the bar. Reagan liked the atmosphere. She liked the people. She was happy to know that Leigh and Drew were tending the bar.
She was so happy with their performances that she gave them a share in the bar, after their first year for her. She wished that she could say the same or any of the workers at her firm. Drew and Leigh had something that her workers didn’t, faith and trust in the product. No, that wasn’t quite it. They just seemed to like their jobs more.
She shook her head as she looked over more files. Reagan sat at her desk and looked out her window that faced the heart of downtown from her office building on Main. She hated the concrete and the lights, but she had to admit that she had done well for herself. Reagan dreamed of a day where she didn’t have to work in the “concrete jungle” of the business world. She was glad that she still had the bar to fall back on. It wasn’t like Knight Tech was going to go under anytime soon, but she liked the thought of having somewhere else to be and work when she got mad at the computers.
Reagan sat back in her chair and stared at the awards, certificates, and diplomas that hung on her wall. None of them made her happy anymore. She had spent the last nine years developing and building her company into the best there was in the city. But, it didn’t make her happy anymore. She would have preferred to be tending bar and lining up talent at her bar in the Vista.
“At least I have that,” she told herself.
She looked at the pictures that graced her desk. She had to smile at the pictures of her family. She picked up the picture of her with her parents. She touched the glass.
“I hope that I have made you proud of me, Daddy,” she whispered, “I hope that you understand that I have done this all for you, Mommy.”
Reagan was still for a moment. She didn’t like to remember the night that she found out that her parents had died in that car crash. It was the first time in her life that she thought she would die and it wouldn’t be the last.
She put down the picture of her parents and picked up the picture of Catherine. She kissed her fingers and ran them over the figure behind the glass. She replaced the picture before the memories could come flooding in and destroy her good mood.
She glanced at the clock. It was nearing four o’clock. Reagan could only hope that D
rew would make it back before eleven when the bar would get jumping. She rolled through her roll-a-dex and dialed the number to her bar.
“RL’s Closet,” a woman said into the phone.
“Leigh, good, it’s you. Drew went on a job this morning. Have you heard from him?” Reagan asked.
“No, I haven’t, Reagan. But, if I do, I’ll have him call you. Something up?” Leigh asked.
“No,” Reagan answered, “I am just wondering if I should come down there tonight and help you out.”
“Don’t know. Can’t say. It is too early for me to tell. You could come if you want. I’ll never turn down help, you know that,” Leigh told her.
“I am not worried about that. You have enough staff there tonight for the kitchen and stuff, right?” Reagan asked.
“Yup, plenty. Reagan, what’s up? You sound upset about something. What is it, girl?” Leigh questioned.
“It is just that Catherine is coming back tonight, for the weekend. And, then Drew is in Atlanta on a job and you don’t have any back up. Then, there is this whole deal with Grace O’Shea moving back into town or something. I am not sure what I want to do, tonight,” Reagan answered.
“O’Shea, huh? Didn’t she give us a show last night?” Leigh asked.
“Yeah, that was her,” Reagan replied.
“Sounds to me like you should go see Catherine. Let me worry about the place and Drew will be here. He had never failed you before. Even if he is late, I can find someone to help me from the staff. You know that I keep a few extra barkeeps in hand for just the reason that it would get busy. Do what you have to do, tonight, and let me deal with the bar. I’ll call you in the morning, at your house.”
“Thank you, Leigh. Call me if it gets out of hand. I’ll come down there and help you,” Reagan stated.
“Whatever, you know I am not going to call you when Catherine is here. Now, go and have fun, little Reagan,” Leigh told her.
“Alright, Leigh. See ya later, then,” Reagan said.
“Talk at you later, squirt,” Leigh answered, ringing off.
Reagan replaced the receiver to the phone base on her desk. She looked at the picture of Catherine again and smiled. Reagan was right to keep Drew and Leigh on at the bar. She knew that she would never have to worry about anything with the bar as long as one of them was there to run if for her.
