“Yes, I do. Goodbye, Greg, I wish you all the best.”
The line clicked before Greg had a chance to shout, beg, cry, or whatever it would take to keep his dream of a life with Cassie alive.
Today, twenty years later, Greg remembered that conversation word for word, as though it had happened yesterday. He looked at the papers on his office desk. There was the registration form for the upcoming golf trip to Whistler, and a letter from Johnny Roberts inviting the members of the club to join him on what promised to be an unforgettable trip.
Although Greg and Johnny were members of the same golf club, the two men had not spoken in all the time since the episode with Cassie. Johnny had been a gentleman, and never confronted Greg about it. Greg suspected it was because of Cassie’s influence, not wanting to cause Greg any more distress. Greg had gone ahead with his own life, and married the next woman he’d dated after Cassie, but it hadn’t worked out. Two more wives and five children later, Greg was done. His children were ungrateful brats who didn’t care for him, and the feeling was mutual. Greg had established his own accounting practice in the end, but alimony and child support payments for the leeches had sucked him dry. He’d never been able to get the big house on Mercer Island, and now he probably never would.
The door of his office opened, and a pretty young intern entered. Greg remembered hiring her for aesthetic reasons rather than the qualifications on her resume.
“Will that be all, Mr. Baker? I was just about to go home for the evening.”
Greg stroked his goatee beard and his eyes traced the young woman’s curves. His dark hair was greying at the temples, but he still considered himself attractive.
“That will be all, thank you, Kelly,” Greg said. “Are you doing anything special this evening?”
The young woman corrected him. “It’s Kerri.” She gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And no, my salary doesn’t stretch to going out much.”
“Maybe we can fix that,” Greg said smoothly, his eyes, filled with desire, traveling the length of her body. “If you’d like to have dinner with me later, we could discuss what terms would make you happy.”
Kerri’s eyes widened and her face flashed bright red. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Baker,” she hissed at him. “You’re old enough to be my father.”
Greg watched Kerri leave. So what if she doesn’t come back. Interns are a dime a dozen, and they never last long. Next time, I’ll hire a real looker who appreciates what I have to offer.
The problem was, he’d never met anyone else like Cassie. He’d seen her from afar at various events over the years, looking even more beautiful with age. She was always graceful and dignified, and the shorter hairstyle she’d recently adopted showcased her exquisite elfin features. Greg had always thought Cassie looked like a miniature porcelain doll. Each time he saw her, which wasn’t often, he wanted to wrap her up and protect her from harm.
They’d never spoken again since that fateful telephone call of long ago, but he’d seen her glance at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. From all appearances, she seemed to enjoy a happy life with Johnny, but Greg wasn’t so sure. Maybe Cassie had just gotten used to the good life. J.R. Mercedes was an enormously successful business that afforded the Roberts’ a luxury lifestyle.
Not only did they have the big house on Mercer Island, there was also a fleet of cars that was updated every time a new model was released. He knew Cassie and Johnny traveled to foreign countries several times a year, and from what he’d heard, there was also a Sun Seeker yacht that Johnny kept moored in Barcelona which they used as their European base. Cassie would be a fool to give up a life style like that.
Maybe she doesn’t have to, Greg thought to himself, as a plan started to form in his head. Cassie would be a rich widow if Johnny died. And if something were to happen to Johnny in Whistler while he was at the golf tournament, it would probably just be one of those random sudden death incidents that sometimes occurred to healthy people when they were engaged in playing some type of sport.
Greg lifted his pen and started to fill out the golf tournament registration form. He knew what he needed to do. It was time he sorted things out with Johnny Roberts for good. He could call Johnny and tell him he’d decided it was time to clear the air between them and bury the hatchet. He was pretty sure Johnny would agree to meet him for a cup of coffee. A man like Johnny must have wanted to know what really went down with Greg and Cassie when they were younger.
Oh, Greg would love to bury the hatchet, all right. Right in the back of Johnny’s head.
CHAPTER 7
Roz and Clark were waiting for DeeDee and Jake at the entrance to the Grill Room restaurant. DeeDee hurried over to her sister and held out her arms for a big hug.
“Whistler agrees with you,” DeeDee said to Roz, first pulling her in close and then standing back. “Let me take a look at you. You’re absolutely radiant. It must be the mountain air.”
In the two months since her sister had moved to British Columbia, Roz had gained a pound or two, but it suited her, and she had a glow about her that hadn’t been present when she’d lived in Seattle. She wore her auburn hair loose, and through the light layer of makeup, DeeDee detected a few new freckles on her cheeks.
“Thanks,” Roz beamed. “I’ve turned into a Whistler person, and with every second business in the village being a cafe, restaurant, or bar, I’m thoroughly enjoying supporting the local economy.”
Meanwhile Jake held out his hand to Clark and said, “Hi, I’m Jake Rodgers, pleased to meet you.”
Clark met Jake’s broad smile with one of his own. “Clark Blackstock. It’s great to have you both here. We’re looking forward to showing you around.” He turned to DeeDee and said, “Roz has really missed you.”
DeeDee laughed and took a step toward Clark, who leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“I have not,” Roz said as they followed the hostess into the dining room. “Well…maybe just a little.”
They were shown to a table in front of the large fireplace that dominated the center of the back wall. The ambience in the room was one of casual sophistication, and a low hum of conversation was audible from the tables that were already occupied. Wood-paneled walls surrounded them, containing areas of glassed-in shelving which displayed the restaurant’s selection of fine wine.
The overhead lighting was dim, and a multitude of flickering candles highlighted the polished cutlery, white tablecloths, and napkins. Chairs upholstered in light tan completed the understated elegance of the decor. After they were seated with DeeDee sitting beside Clark, and with Jake and Roz opposite their respective partners, the waitress handed them menus and told them about the specials of the day.
When the waitress had left them for a few minutes so they could look over the menu and wine list, DeeDee reached for her purse and removed a small notebook and pen which she placed next to her table setting.
“I knew it,” Jake groaned. “Roz, you need to tell your sister to cut back on her work. She should be spending more time with me, instead.”
“Yeah, I thought you moved to Bainbridge Island for a quieter life,” Roz said, reaching across the table for the bread basket. She offered it to the others before breaking open a crusty roll for herself. “Instead, you’re turning into a workaholic.”
DeeDee corrected her. “I moved to Bainbridge Island for a better quality of life, and I hit the jackpot. I definitely found it.”
Jake was watching her with an intensity that gave her goosebumps, and she caught his eye, holding his gaze for a moment. She hoped that the look that passed between them conveyed her warm feelings towards him. “I was always planning on working. I just never expected to enjoy my new business so much, or for it to take on a life of its own. I want to nurture Deelish catering to the point where I’m operating at an average of eighty percent of full capacity. If I can do that, I’ll have a very good income, and I’ll have the flexibility to either ramp up or pull back at any point
without getting too stressed or worried about money.”
Roz swallowed the bread she’d been eating. “Ooh, listen to you, Ms. Entrepreneur. I think it’s marvelous. We should drink to that.” She cleared her throat, and pointedly stared at Clark, who looked back at her with a blank look on his face. DeeDee and Jake watched in amusement. “Hint, hint, is somebody ordering the wine soon?”
Clark gestured to the waitress. While he was looking at the wine list, DeeDee took several moments to observe Clark. He was squinting intently at the wine list through horn-rimmed glasses that kept sliding down the bridge of his nose. Tall and tanned, with preppy clothing, the only thing out of place on Clark was a small strand of blond hair that looked as if it had been combed down with the rest, but had broken free. The whole package screamed Ivy League. After a brief consultation with the waitress about wine storage temperature, he ordered a bottle of white and a bottle of red, before pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger.
“Are you ready to order your food as well?” the waitress inquired. They exchanged glances and nodded.
“Yes, I think so,” DeeDee said, taking the lead. “Is the seafood platter a good appetizer for sharing, or should we order some extra dishes?”
The waitress confirmed that the platter of king prawns, mussels, crab, lobster, and assorted soft fish was big enough for all of them to share.
“Great, and I’d like the rib eye steak for the main course, with a pear salad and a sweet potato and fontina gratin. Thank you.” DeeDee smiled at the waitress and handed her the menu. Roz and Jake both opted for steak as well, with Clark breaking rank and asking if he could order something off the menu. After consulting with the chef in the kitchen, the waitress returned and confirmed he could have plain grilled salmon.
The waitress told them the gratin was also large enough for sharing, and Clark ordered an extra side of wild rice with his salmon. DeeDee scribbled some notes about several of the menu items in her notebook as possible ideas for future catering events. She also used the opportunity to note Clark’s meal choice in case she ever cooked for him in future. He clearly had a conservative palette.
“I’d like to also order the chocolate tiramisu cake,” DeeDee said. She saw the shocked faces of the others and smiled sweetly up at the waitress. “Please bring some extra forks and plates. I’d be willing to bet that they won’t be able to resist it when I start eating.”
As the wine was being served, DeeDee finished writing and put her notebook away. Clark sampled the red wine, and nodded his approval for the waitress to pour it. Roz took a sip and winked at Clark. “You have great taste in wine. Just like your taste in women.”
“Don’t I know it,” Clark replied, and Roz giggled.
“How do the two of you like Whistler?” Jake asked.
Roz was getting ready to answer when the waitress returned with a server who put a small plate of olives in front of each of them.
“Compliments of the chef,” their waitress said. “He’s prepared warm olives as the amuse bouche of the evening.” She and the server turned and left their table.
When she was gone, Jake turned to DeeDee and said, “What is an amuse bouche? I’ve never heard that term.”
“It’s often done in higher end restaurants. The chef prepares something different each evening which is gratis and served at the very beginning of the meal. In French, it literally means what it sounds like, ‘to amuse the mouth.’ It’s just a tiny bite to get your mouth ready for the meal that will follow. Often, it’s just one bite of something, but since olives are pretty small, we’ve each been given three.”
“Well, I guess I’m going to learn all kinds of things from you,” Jake said grinning.
Roz began to speak. “In answer to your question, Clark’s at work most of the time, so I seldom see him. I’m networking, mostly. You know I don’t like to overwork myself.” Roz was a tax preparer, and apart from a few late filers, most of her work was carried out during the tax season leading up to April 15th. She spent the rest of the year complaining to anyone who would listen about how hard she had to work during the first four months of the year. “I’m hanging out with the chalet maids, ski-bums, and bus boys, all of whom are great fun, but I do wish I had Clarkie to party with.”
Clark piped up. “In my defense, it’s the nature of the business, especially at this altitude,” he explained. “Because of the weather, we need to get to a certain point in the ski lift construction before the first snowfall of the season. The work won’t grind to a halt, but once winter’s here, there’s not a lot we can do. Then, my darling,” he patted Roz’s hand, “you will get to see a lot more of me.”
DeeDee noticed how warmly Clark spoke to Roz, and it was obvious her sister adored the man. Clark’s quiet demeanor was yin to Roz’s yang.
“When do you expect your work on the ski lift to be finished?” DeeDee asked.
Clark swirled his white wine around in the glass. “It’s a three-year project, but the site team changes in rotation. Not many people want to move to Whistler for that length of time, due to their family’s needs. There is a possibility we could stay here longer, but that depends on Roz,” Clark explained. “I’ve been asked to extend my contract, but I wouldn’t want to stay on here without her.”
“Aw,” Roz said as she took a sip of her wine, “you’re embarrassing me. Time to talk about the golf, I think.”
The appetizer was served and the conversation among the four of them was interrupted while they wrestled with shellfish and finger bowls. DeeDee demonstrated how to extract all the flesh from the lobster claws, so that none of it was wasted. Being a seafood lover, Jake was already proficient at the task.
“You’re right, Roz. We do need to talk about golf. Are you okay with playing in the morning, Jake?” Clark asked between mouthfuls. “There’s a golf outing here in Whistler with some members of the club I belong to back in Seattle. It’s the Island View Golf Club. There are about twenty of its members here for a golf tournament. They’ll play a round each day, Saturday through Monday, on different local golf courses. I’d like to meet up with the men, but I can only take tomorrow off work, since we’re pretty much working seven days a week. The Saturday round is at the Fairmont golf course, which is right down the road from this hotel.”
“Will anyone be playing who isn’t a member of the Island View club?” Jake asked innocently. DeeDee had mentioned the potential Lyle issue to him on their way down to dinner. As she expected, Jake had shrugged it off. He continued to discuss the arrangements for the golf game with Clark.
“I have no idea,” Clark said, “but when I made our reservations I asked if I might bring a guest and was told that it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Tomorrow morning sounds good to me. I definitely would like to play, but I didn’t bring any clubs with me. Of course, even if I’d known to bring them there wouldn’t have been room in the car.” He pointedly looked at DeeDee, who smiled sweetly in response.
“No problem, rental clubs are available at the pro shop. Our tee time is 9:00 a.m., and the course is only two or three minutes from here. How about if I pick you up at 8:00 a.m.? That should give us plenty of time to register and hit a bucket of balls on the practice range.”
“Perfect,” Jake said, as the waitress cleared away the appetizer plates. “And what have you two ladies got planned for tomorrow?”
DeeDee looked at Roz. “Whatever it is, I’d guess that a lot of coffee and sweets of some kind will be involved. At least they better be. Am I right?”
Her sister grinned. “You bet. Clark and I can come here in the morning and the men can go play golf. We can take your car and you can see the house we’re renting. After the grand tour, we can go for a walk, stop for coffee and a little bite of something, catch up…”
DeeDee finished her sentence for her. “…then lunch, shopping, more coffee and sweets and possibly wine?”
Roz shrugged. “If you insist, sister dearest.”
“I can’t wait.”
The main courses were served, and the succulent rib eye steaks, or in Clark’s case, salmon, were washed down with plenty of wine and laughter. After dinner, Roz and Clark left with a promise to be back bright and early in the morning.
Before turning in for the night, DeeDee and Jake took a moonlight stroll around the hotel grounds with Balto. Arm in arm, they both agreed that their trip had gotten off to a wonderful start.
CHAPTER 8
“Your sales figures for September are up from last month, Mimi. Looks like you’re back on target. Congratulations. It’s going to be close as to who gets Salesperson of the Year and the large cash bonus that goes with it, but you’re definitely in the running. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”
Mimi Edmonds viewed her boss, Johnny Roberts, from where she sat across from him at the round table in his glass-walled office in the corner of the J.R. Mercedes dealership in Seattle. Her back was parallel with the glass, because all of Johnny’s staff knew he liked to be able to see what was going on in the dealership when he wasn’t personally on the floor. Mimi was attending her weekly meeting with Johnny, where they reviewed sales results and targets, as well as discussing any other issues concerning her work.
She was one of his best employees, so it was usually a short meeting. Today, however, she lingered, seemingly reluctant to leave. “As a matter of fact, there is,” Mimi said, sucking in her cheeks which had the effect of emphasizing her plump lips. She leaned forward, her sole intention being to present Johnny with a clear view of her ample cleavage. Ever since she’d started working at the dealership two years ago, she’d had a thing for Johnny Roberts, but so far, he’d ignored the various attempts she’d made to flirt with him. Mimi knew that slow and steady won the race, or so the old saying went, but she felt that tactic was getting ridiculous and certainly not producing any results. No man had ever resisted her charms before, and Johnny Roberts wasn’t going to be the first.
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