by Towne, L. E.
Jack glanced to his right. The silent waiter approached with a deference reserved for really big tippers. Jack ordered the Dayboat scallops with ginger and Thai chili sauce, an heirloom lettuce salad with baked figs and prosciutto, all preceded by a cup of artichoke soup. Ross ordered his usual beef tenderloin with some fancy sauce and French fries. Jack insisted he try the soup, and because Jack was buying, he did.
“Not much to tell, I’ve only met her a couple of times,” Jack said. “She’s younger than I originally thought she was. First time I was on the program, everything went wrong, the first speaker showed up late, the sound system kept failing, but she managed to get it all under control. Why the big interest?”
“Like you said, if I get in with Conway, I’ve got it made. She’s a big part of that.”
“Is she?” Jack mumbled noncommittally.
“Of course. She picks the workshop consultants for most of their conferences, right?” He felt compelled to defend his interest. All part of the plan, book as many conferences as he could, put up some really good work, develop a reputation.
“I admire you brother, it’s a lot to take on. I just show up and talk. Let the big dogs worry about the big picture.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I hire you.” Ross grinned at him. “And don’t think because we crewed together in college, I’m going to fork out big bucks to let you skate.”
“By the time you get big enough to hire me, I’m going to be retired. Sienna will be a litigator and I’ll be in the burbs coaching little kids soccer.”
“This is year one of a five year plan. I’m right on track. This time next year I’ll have more bookings than I can handle. You gonna retire in five years?” Ross asked him.
“Man, I’d like to, but then, I was never the ambitious one. So how’s Dani? When are you guys going to have us over to the new place?”
“Yeah, we need to do that. Soon. I’ll talk to Dani. I kinda miss the walk-up. It was run down, but we had space you know? But Dani likes it. She’s fine, gone three nights a week doing some improvisation class at the Drake.”
“Dude, what’s that place costing you? Two k a month?”
“Twenty two hundred and it’s a great place, don’t get me wrong. Last year, D had that steady gig and two national commercials. This year, it’s been a little slack, but we’ll make it.” Ross didn’t mention that he was also bringing in a steady paycheck last year. He’d let Dani talk him into renting uptown after her big residual check came in.
“I know you will. You’ll make it. You’re almost as good at the job as me. The CTC connection is great. Keep your head down, stay out of trouble, all that.”
“That’s you Jack. You have the penchant for trouble. I’m the repressed one, remember?”
“True.” Jack finished his martini and the waiter appeared again magically with another. “I got a feeling that girl has some trouble-making potential in her.” Azure Worth? A potential for trouble making? This was new, and yet Ross agreed with him. There was something mischievous about her. Maybe it was that potential that kept thoughts of their conversation in the forefront of his mind days after her email.
Their waiter arrived with the soup, complete with a delicate flower floating in it.
Jack tamped out his cigar and laid the half-smoked stub on a crystalline edge of their shared ashtray.
“I know you got this thing all planned out. You have since college, but a steady calendar is a tough thing to create. It takes time, not to mention a decent cash flow, which you’ll need to keep up the new digs.”
Both men were quiet and except for an occasional spoon clink, there was a satisfied silence. Ross had fished the weird looking flower out of his bowl, whereas Jack pushed it aside. It probably was entirely edible, but neither man tried it. The waiter hovered just out of eye contact and silently whisked the empty tureens off the table when they were finished.
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have rented the apartment, or that I shouldn’t have gone out on my own so soon? Or is it both?” Ross tried to keep his tone light, but Jack knew him too well.
“Don’t get your jockey’s in a twist. I’m not saying any of that. If anybody can make this work, it’s you. You just have to keep Dani’s shoe shopping under control.”
“You say that as though I control anything about Dani. Anything at all.”
“Maybe not, but she puts up with your ass, doesn’t she? And she’s beautiful to boot.”
“Not complaining.”
“God, you know who I ran into the other day? Remember Pete Hampton?” Jack changed the subject as the waiter approached with their entrees.
“Half-baked Pete?” Ross relaxed, glad the subject was off of him and Dani. They finished their lunch talking of old friends and the next racquetball match up.
-3-
Late April in Missouri usually arrives with cool nights and warm days and trees in full blossom. Unfortunately, an unannounced heat wave caught St Louis off guard and it was ungodly hot and humid the morning Ross arrived. It had been frigid in Chicago for the early morning flight, and his medium- weight suit was enough to keep him comfortable. He hung the jacket up on the plane so it wouldn’t rumple and he kept it off as he took a cab to the hotel. He had monumentally over-prepared for the day trip but he didn’t carry much. A tiny bottle of mouthwash and a travel toothbrush were in his briefcase, along with his speech, his notebook tablet and a pack of gum.
His talk was thirty two minutes exactly. He’d rehearsed it a dozen times, re-written it at least twice that. He brought his expensive suit, hoping that Az wouldn’t recognize it from the Chicago convention. He didn’t want to seem anxious, and he wasn’t. After all, he was a professional, and this was a small- time speech for a few folks at the end of their workshop. He’d done precisely this kind of thing when he worked for Vanguarde hundreds of times. Maybe not hundreds, but a lot and this was just another gig. A one day gig that paid well and it’d be his first step to making a good impression. Nothing could go wrong. Okay, so he was a little anxious.
True to her word, she’d emailed the details and a standard contract the next day after their online chat. Since then, her only communication was a quick message with her cell number saying she’d see him at the hotel. All very professional, but she’d signed the last missive Az rather than Azure and he’d started calling her that in his head. It felt less formal.
Fortunately, the plane was on time, and he’d had time to duck into the restroom and splash water on his face and brush his teeth before texting her. He paced back and forth in the men’s room a few times, checked his hair, and grimaced in the mirror, loosening his lips and jaw. Finally his phone beeped with her reply, and he strode out into the lobby.
A dark-haired woman approached him. She was much prettier than her company photo and different enough that he hadn’t recognized her immediately. The bushy waves of dark hair were gone. In their place was a short, edgy punk rocker hair cut that contrasted with her casual, but business-like clothes. She wore a purple sleeveless top, cut on the bias so it skimmed her breasts and narrowed at her waist. Ross mentally chided himself for paying too much attention to his girlfriend when she talked fashion.
“Hi, I’m Ross Berenger.” He flashed his usual smile and performed his usual, gentle-but-firm handshake. She returned it equally, nothing soft or delicate about it. Her eyes appraised him with a look that made him want to check the mirror again. He glanced around the out-dated hotel lobby, and when he came back to her, she had an apologetic look about her. He felt the need to reassure her. He thanked her for giving him the opportunity, and he found himself telling her about gaining some notice from her firm. He was embarrassed at the giddiness in his tone. Azure talked of creating a list of speakers for conferences, and her voice flowed over him like cream. She had eyes that laughed at him in a color not yet named, and he had a hard time looking away. He just wanted them to smile up at him, forever.
She walked fast in spite of her heels and he focused on a ti
ny blue line on her shoulder, a tattoo revealed only partially when she moved. He felt like a fascinated teenager, but she seemed surprised and pleased at his enthusiasm. They reached the door of the conference room. He pulled it open and she regarded him just briefly before entering the room, her eyes cutting through every pretense he had.
Ross looked around the room. The staff was just setting up. Billowing white clouds of tablecloths over tables and smoothing them flat. He noted the dais and podium in the front, curtains drawn closed behind it. He wouldn’t compete with any view.
A petite woman of about fifty entered through a side door with a large box. Spying Azure, she peered around it as she made her way to them. Azure offered to help her, but the woman suddenly looked disconcerted about interrupting them. She held her box of key chains and stickers possessively close. Ross stepped away.
“Well, I’ll just go check the set-up, make sure I’m prepared. He walked to the dais, sidestepping the staff guiding large racks of chairs into place.
He hadn’t meant to, but he was pretty sure he’d winked at Azure before he turned away, as though they shared some big secret about the woman and her key chains. He didn’t understand what possessed him to do that, but he had. And now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Apologize? Ignore it? He pushed the thought aside as he set about checking the microphone and pulling his speech from his well worn satchel. The wink would be forgotten in the events of the afternoon.
He had the attention of at least the front row of tables, probably more, judging by the quiet sounds of agreement when he made a particular point. He could always tell when people were engaged in his audience and the appreciative nods and focus of the first couple of tables relaxed him even more. This was the best part of his job.
Two-thirds through his speech, he noticed a large woman in the front row with her hand to her throat. At first she hadn’t seemed to panic, and he couldn’t tell if she was choking or checking on her pearl necklace. He glanced to the side of the huge room, looking for his event planner. Azure had been there, listening to him and periodically checking her phone, but now she was gone. When he turned his attention back to the woman, she looked distressed enough that he stopped and asked if she was okay. At the shake of her head no, her eyes watering and bugging out, he jumped off the stage and went to her aid.
People had moved toward her by this time, but Ross was behind her, his arms around her midriff before anyone else could react. The Heimlich maneuver safely and effectively administered, she thanked him in a strangled, but grateful voice. He straightened to find Azure next to him, her low soothing voice talking to the woman. She gave him a grateful look as she and the woman made their way out. He made some reference to the danger of large fruit and ad-libbed the rest of his speech, giving it a personal twist and a final admonition to travel and eat safely.
He did not see Az after the luncheon, not in the lobby, nor the hotel restaurant where he grabbed an early dinner before his flight back.
He phoned Dani, relaying events of the day between bites of grilled salmon and Caesar salad. She said that his actions were heroic and he certainly should have made a good impression. After they ended the call, he kept his phone on the table in front of him, hoping Azure would text him. It remained agonizingly blank and silent.
“It was an extraordinarily large strawberry.” Ross teased. He shifted so he could look at Azure. The airport bound cab they shared crawled through traffic on I-70.
“Hello, knife? Fork? They provided utensils. That woman’s been eating strawberry shortcake longer than I’ve been around.” Her eyes were obscured by large aviator sunglasses, but he was convinced they crinkled just slightly at the edges.
He’d finally caught up with her in the lobby. She was on the phone, a little black rolling suitcase, adorned with a green ribbon, was parked at her feet. He’d suggested sharing a cab to the airport.
The evening air still sweltered from the day’s sun and he’d shrugged off his jacket. Before entering the cab, he loosened his tie and un-buttoned his shirt cuffs, turning them up once and once again on his forearms. Fortunately, the late model Mercedes in had decent air conditioning because they were just in time to hit rush hour traffic.
“You going to be late?” He asked.
“Quite possibly, yes.” She glanced at her watch and he noticed the British phrasing again. “I was supposed to leave half an hour ago, but our lovely choking woman insisted on one more conversation. She was going to sue everyone, my company, the hotel, the chef, everyone. The hotel apologized, and I comped her workshop fee, but I thought it unfair for them to have to comp the room as well.” She sighed. “Convincing her of that took some time.”
“My friend Jack says you’re a fixer. I think he’s right.”
“A fixer? I rather like that. Do I know Jack?”
“Jack Isaacson? He’s an HR consultant with DePage. He’s worked with you on a conference or two and says you’re very good at what you do.”
“DePage, yes, we’ve used them. Can’t place the name though.”
“Shorter than me, not by much, and glasses, dark hair, kind of curly, dresses well.”
She pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them into her purse. The sun was behind them now, sinking behind the Giant Arch.
“Drinks martinis? Avidly, and can quote The Tempest at the drop of a hat?” she asked.
“That’s him. We were classmates at Northwestern.”
“And you had a conversation about me?”
“Not exactly, you know, but...the subject of event planners came up and-”
“You were doing your homework.” She grinned.
“Of course.”
“So then, I can ask Jack about you?”
Ross laughed, “I thought you already had enough references. Besides, he’d lie. The guy’s brilliant, but a compulsive liar.”
“Is that so? Perhaps he was lying about me as well.” She turned toward the cabbie. “How much further? My planes at seven-twenty.” The driver looked at the line of brake lights strung ahead of them and assured her they would arrive on time. She turned back to Ross, thoughtful.
“Well, you did save a woman’s life. Does that make you a fixer too?”
Ross chuckled. “Next time will go smoother.”
“Next time? What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” He felt himself relax as she teased him. She was teasing, right?
“Oh, come on. How many other speakers on your list can perform a Heimlich maneuver in the middle of their speech.”
“And still keep their place.” She added.
“And still keep their place.”
The cab started moving and she checked her watch again.
“Actually,” Ross began, “I didn’t keep my place. I ad libbed a lot of it—just trying to calm things down.”
Az stretched her legs and stifled a yawn. She scrunched in the seat and tipped her head back against it, tiredly.
“Long day?” he said over his own yawn.
“Long couple of days.”
He noticed again how natural she was, minimal makeup, the short tousled hair looking soft and touchable. She crossed her legs and the toe of her high heeled shoe brushed his trouser leg. She pulled away.
“Sorry I missed the end of your speech,” she said. “The first part was good, interesting.”
“Thanks, I gotta tell you, I worked on it some, a lot actually. And then I go off the cuff and it was better than the original. You missed the best part.” He shrugged. “Way it goes sometimes. I took some notes, so nothing is lost, except...”
They were exiting the freeway and he felt her sigh of relief. It was a pain to be stuck at airports having missed a flight, but this felt different than that. He felt an urgency in her to get home.
“Is something wrong?” he asked as she looked out the window, watching the signs for the terminals.
“No. We’re here. I’ll make my plane. What did you mean, except?”
Ross stopped, going b
ack to his earlier thought. “Oh, you mean about the speech. Nothing, really. This is the one opportunity I have to impress you and things...didn’t go the way I thought they would, or the way I planned, not at all.” He paused. “You seem very intent on getting home on time, a big event or something?” He looked away, watching the exit signs.
“Impress me? Really?” She emitted a deep, sexy uninhibited laugh. “I think you’ve already made the go-to list, Mr. Berenger. No need to worry.”
“Ross,” he corrected and looked into her eyes for the last time. He still couldn’t decide on their coloring. Some peculiar shade of dark blue, or hazel. The cab pulled to the curb and she fished a twenty out of her purse.
“So, next time. Ross.”
“Next time,” he said, noting that she hadn’t answered his question about home. Her hand reached for the door handle and he saw it, a medium sized diamond set on her third finger. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
Azure
From the very first meeting with Ross, it simply brought her marriage into a clearer focus.
The first time she’d hired Ross, it was to speak to a crowd of medical professionals in St Louis. His speech had been going well, people obviously enjoying themselves when he’d stopped mid-sentence to rescue a woman choking at a front table.
Later that day, sharing a cab to the airport, she couldn’t resist teasing him about it.
“Seriously,” she crossed her legs in the back seat as the cab lurched away from the curb. “She had no case. It was a strawberry, nothing lethal.”
“Extraordinarily large strawberries.” Ross settled beside her, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his jacket off as it was warm that day. She couldn’t help but notice his nicely tanned and muscular forearms. She remembered forcing herself to look out the window and continue their conversation.
“Hello, knife? Fork? She’s managed to get through sixty plus years of eating without almost dying.” Az tried to smooth her travel-worn linen into something less frumpy. How the man managed to look so impeccable in the Missouri humidity was beyond her. “Do you often have to rescue folks during your speeches?”