The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One)

by Bruce Fottler

  “Apparently,” Walt mumbled as he shot Christine a glare.

  “So, you're trying to cover-up anything that would cause a concern that Sam might reconnect with that church?”

  “Colin, this kid is the brightest prospect for The Initiative we've seen in a while. I couldn't afford something like this to screw up his chances.”

  “This is the one that was voted into the five-year hitch yesterday?”

  “If Drake ever got wind of this, Sam would've been vetted out and we'd be chasing around for someone new. I don't know about you, but I'm getting sick of Drake's absurd paranoia slowing down progress around here.”

  “There's a valid reason behind his so-called paranoia.”

  “That was one person, Neil McLarin!”

  “I know, Walt. I was there. I knew the guy.”

  “Do you understand the amount of work--”

  “Walt, I said I know,” Colin interrupted. “Why in the hell do you think I'm here talking to you about this on the day after Sam got voted in?”

  Walt paused and shared a confused glance with Christine. “You knew before?”

  “Like I said, Walt, they didn't hire me for my looks. I understand your frustration with Drake's eccentric’s. I have to deal with the same bullshit times ten where I work from. I'm sick of it too, although I'll never mention it again outside of this office. You guys managed to get away with this because I was there to find and fix your mistakes.” Colin paused and turned to Christine. “If you ever see anything that troubles you about Mr. Maxwell again, do me a big favor and leave the editing to those who know what the hell they're doing. You'll be surprised how many of us are on your side.”

  “Thank you, Colin,” Christine said in a conciliatory tone.

  “You're welcome. Look, Merrill's actually a good guy who has a few faults. I don't mind fudging things to make it better for everyone. Just make sure this guy is worth our trouble.”

  Thursday, October 20, 1994

  Lowell, Massachusetts

  “Happy birthday, Sam.”

  “Thanks, Sues,” Sam replied with a smile as she tapped her water glass against his. They sat in a quiet booth in the corner of a French restaurant in downtown Lowell.

  “You know this is my treat this month.”

  “That's the third time you've reminded me. Congratulations on the new job.”

  Susan beamed. “Thanks.”

  “Is is going well?” Sam asked after a waiter handed him a pair of menus.

  “Yes, very well. If I knew there were jobs like this, I would've left that dealership months ago.”

  “I'm sorry nothing opened up at Blanchard. I was supposed to get another open job listing last week, but I was traveling.”

  “You've been doing a lot of that. How many trips now?”

  “Four, so far. I was in Tacoma last week. It was interesting. I'm usually blowing in and out of these places, but I had some time to look around on this trip. It was nicer than I heard it was.”

  Susan frowned. “Please don't tell me you're thinking of moving.”

  “It wasn't that nice. Besides, Angela has family here.”

  “Any signs of a thaw with her parents?”

  Sam blurted a chuckle. “I'm pretty sure her dad is still throwing darts at my picture. He's probably gone through a stack of them by now.”

  “Have you even met them?”

  “Are you joking?”

  “It's probably something you should address soon. Hostile parents can put stress into relationships.”

  “Hostile dads could also put me in the hospital,” Sam quipped as he picked up a menu to study.

  “Well, at least things have thawed out with her old roommates.”

  “It seems to be going well between them, so I hear.”

  “When are you going to work up to a talk with Laura?”

  Sam winced as he read over the menu. “That's going to take a little more time. Maybe a decade or two.”

  “You know, I don't think she's nearly as upset with you as you think.”

  “Oh, trust me, she will be after I tell her what I really think about her new boyfriend.”

  Susan's expression dropped while giving a reluctant nod. “Maybe it'll be good for her to hear what really happened.”

  “Oh? That's not like you. I've never known you to stir the pot.”

  “Yeah,” Susan replied in a solemn voice. “And sometimes I wish I didn't know the truth.”

  “Ah, it's none of my business anyway. Laura's smart. She'll figure it out for herself.”

  “So, how are you and Angela doing?”

  Sam stopped his study of the menu and set it down on the table. “Why ask?”

  “Because I always ask you about this?”

  “No, it's that certain expression. It's the way you tilt your head with that subtle knowing smile.”

  “So something is up with you and Angela?”

  “Is there any way to avoid having this conversation?”

  “Nope, never. So, it's time to come clean, mister.”

  “No big trouble. Nothing major broken.”

  “But it's a little more than just a few small repairs?”

  Sam paused and looked down at the table.

  “Please tell me what's wrong,” Susan coaxed in a more serious tone.

  Sam fidgeted in his seat. “I think I might have taken things further than I should have.”

  “I don't understand.”

  Sam hesitated and gave Susan an embarrassed wince.

  “Oh,” Susan suddenly realized. “Those things.”

  “Getting too awkward? You're the one who wanted to have this discussion.”

  “Remember when I said you needed to find a new guy-friend to talk about these things? Well, you really should find a guy-friend to talk about these things.”

  “Duly noted,” Sam said as he picked up his menu.

  “So, did you do something she didn't want you to?”

  Sam snickered and set the menu down again. “I thought you didn't--”

  “Hey, you opened the door and let it out. Too late to chase it back in.”

  “No, I didn't do anything she didn't want to,” Sam replied with a labored grin. “But it worries me that we're making a slow creep towards things that I didn't think we'd ever be comfortable with. I suppose maybe I'm trying too hard to keep things interesting.”

  “Are things getting boring?”

  “Well, I don't think so.”

  “Did she tell you things are boring?”

  “No.”

  “And yet here you are trying so hard to stay away from boring.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “That maybe you're trying so hard to keep things not boring because you're afraid of losing her.”

  “You think I'm insecure?”

  “Sam, despite your wonderful heart and gallant intentions, I think you're finally starting to face reality. You and Angela got together because you basically rescued her. That sort of thing makes for a great Hollywood start, but it's not really enough to keep things going long-term.”

  Sam sat stunned. “Um, wow, Sues. I don't know what to say to that.”

  “Relax, I don't think things are destined to fall apart. It's just that you both need to find better footing. It's time to get serious about your relationship.”

  “Okay, so what do you think we should do?”

  “It's what you should do, Sam. You need to make a choice. You can choose to find things beyond physical that make you both happy, or you can just keep straying deeper into the kinky stuff. Personally, I've never heard a story where great sex by itself saved a relationship.”

  “I think you've been watching too much Oprah.”

  “Sam, stop deflecting. You know I'm right.”

  Sam thought for a moment. “Okay, so what does that involve?”

  “Just pick a day or two every week not to work late. Come home for dinner and don't turn on the TV. Stay away from the bedroom. No showers togeth
er. Just sit with her on the couch and talk.”

  “It's scary how you know our routines.”

  “Do you think Angela and I don't ever talk when we do all that shopping?”

  Sam blurted out a laugh. “Well, no.”

  Susan allowed a crafty grin. “News flash, Sam. You're obviously working far too much and it's dulling your senses. You must have a lot on your mind.”

  “I'll just say that my world has become a lot bigger since I started working for Blanchard.”

  “Just be nice and let me know when I bore you too much.”

  Sam's expression dropped. “Do you really think that?”

  “Well, it was supposed to be a joke. But honestly, sometimes I wonder if you're just humoring me by keeping our monthly dinner dates.”

  “Remember when you told me how you accepted yourself as something much less than what you were? And how pissed I got at you? I set you straight and look at you now. You've stepped it up and you look great. So, let me tell you this to settle things. Sues, you will never, ever, bore me. You're just not capable of it.”

  Susan looked down and struggled to maintain her composure. “Is it your intention to make me cry every month?”

  Sam reached for a napkin. “Just trying to keep you real. I don't want you to ever change.”

  Saturday, December 17, 1994

  Sam's Townhouse – North Chelmsford, Massachusetts

  “We should leave in five minutes,” Sam called into the bathroom as he looked over his suit jacket for lint. They were preparing for the annual Blanchard Corporate Christmas party, which was a semi-formal affair held at an exclusive country club.

  “I know,” Angela protested from behind the closed door. “Please don't rush me. It's been a while since I've dressed up like this.”

  “Being fashionably late to these things is only reserved for the executives.”

  “Is it still raining out?”

  “I think it's more a light drizzle. At least it's not freezing.”

  “Wonderful, great for my hair,” Angela sarcastically seethed. “You do have an umbrella, right?”

  “Yes,” Sam tersely replied.

  The door finally opened and Angela stepped out in a form-fitting, sleeveless black dress that ended well above her knees. It was tasteful but extremely flattering to her slender curves. Her legs were accentuated with dark hose and her wavy black hair flowed down to her shoulders.

  “Now that's what I call a little black dress,” Sam said in astonishment.

  “You like?”

  “Oh, my God do I like. You look absolutely perfect.”

  “Perfect? Hardly.”

  “You're like a Victoria's Secret model trying to be modest but still too sexy to hide everything.”

  “Okay, Sam, now you're going overboard.”

  “Overboard? Hell, let's just stay home so I can unwrap you.”

  Angela sighed as she picked up her purse. “So typical.”

  “What?”

  “It's the same when I put on lingerie. Such a waste of effort. Well, I spent way too much time on this, so we're going to dinner first. Then you can have fun taking it off after we get home.”

  Sam beamed. “Deal!”

  Merrimack Country Club - Tyngsboro, Massachusetts

  In the radiance of the street lights, the front of the country club looked like a horse farm. This caused Angela to recheck the directions as Sam slowed to get his bearings. They finally came across a sign marking the entrance a little further up the road. It was elaborately flanked by two brass lantern light fixtures. The driveway to the exclusive club meandered past part of the golf course on the sprawling property. They soon came to the main building with a canopy over the entryway. A small team of valet attendants waited for their next guests. Sam slowed behind two other cars, a BMW and Mercedes. Two attendants came out with large umbrellas, opened their doors, and made sure none of the drizzle would fall on them before they reached the canopy. Sam was handed a ticket as his Acura was driven off to park.

  After checking their coats, they entered into the main function hall where a number of Blanchard employees had already assembled. Sam looked around and immediately caught sight of Ken.

  “Time to introduce you to my boss.”

  As Sam took Angela in tow, Walt caught sight of them from across the room. He was talking with Christine and a couple of other managers. Christine noticed Walt's attention had shifted.

  “What do you see?”

  “It's Sam. Sweet mother of Jesus, that's his girlfriend? Angela?”

  Christine looked over to watch Sam introduce Angela to Ken and his wife. “I had no idea he dated a model.”

  “She's supposed to be a receptionist. Damn, this is what I get for looking at transcripts and skipping the surveillance pictures.”

  “Now, now, Walt. She's a little too young for you,” Christine joked.

  “Remember when I said he reminded me of myself? I was wrong. He reminds me of what I wanted to be.”

  “Christ, will you look at that arm candy?” another commented. “Lucky bastard.”

  “Let's please keep our legal exposure to harassment to a minimum,” Christine half jokingly scolded.

  Walt eventually worked over for an introduction.

  “Sam, good to see you,” Walt warmly greeted. “And this must be Angela.”

  “Angela, this is Walt Thompson,” Sam said.

  “Nice to meet you, Walt.”

  “Angela, I honestly think half the women in this room literally want you dead right now,” Walt joked as he shook her hand. A half finished drink was in his other.

  Angela allowed a polite laugh.

  “Seriously, you guys,” Walt continued. “Do you have any idea how much money in cosmetic surgery was probably spent by desperate wives longing to garner the attention you just stole away from them?”

  Angela smiled. “Should I start apologizing?”

  “Hell, no. That would take the fun out of it for me. My ex-wife probably outspent everyone here and still couldn't keep her ass from sagging.”

  Sam and Angela shared a polite laugh.

  “Open bar over there and dinner is in a half hour. Please enjoy yourselves. Very nice to meet you.” Walt then meandered off to another group.

  Angela gave Sam a distressed look. “Just the same as always.”

  “As always?”

  “The last time I dressed up for one of these was at a party for my old company in Watertown. I had a whole room of creepy drunk lawyers drooling over me. I made an early exit before something really embarrassing happened.”

  “Are you too uncomfortable with this?”

  “I didn't have a date at the last party, so everything should be fine if you don't stray and leave me alone.”

  “I'd handcuff myself to you if I had a pair.”

  “Kinky.”

  Merrill Drake was the last to arrive. Like a herd of sheep, the upper management headed over to greet him.

  “That must be the big boss, Mr. Drake,” Sam said to Angela after noticing the bustle.

  “Same kind of ass-kissing lawyers do,” Angela commented as she watched the blatant display of brown-nosing.

  “I've never met him before.”

  “Really?”

  “This isn't a small law office. It's a multi-billion dollar empire. This guy probably doesn't even know I exist.”

  “Probably better that way.”

  Dinner, open bar, schmoozing, and a dance floor kept everyone occupied until late evening. Sam shared a few dances with Angela that seemed to hold unusual interest for many. After their last dance, they made their way back to their table to say goodbyes to Ken and their table-mates.

  “Not too bad a night,” Sam noted in a whisper to Angela's ear as they started to the exit.

  “The dance floor was unnerving. Everyone seemed to be staring at us.”

  Sam chuckled. “At you, because Walt was probably right.”

  “Mr. Maxwell?” a voice called out from behind,
stopping Sam and Angela's exit.

  Sam turned to see Merrill talking with someone else nearby. He turned and looked at Angela with a bewildered expression. She grinned in reply.

  “Sam Maxwell, right?” Merrill asked as he approached.

  “Yes, Mr. Drake,” Sam replied as he received a handshake.

  “It's very nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for not getting to you earlier, but apparently you've been busy on the dance floor with this ravishing young lady.”

  “Mr. Drake, this is Angela Thompson.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “I have to admit it's been a few years since we've been graced with the presence of such intense beauty.”

  “Thanks,” Angela politely replied.

  “Sam, I've been hearing good things. Ken and Walt have spoken well of you. I apologize for waiting until tonight to meet you. Things have been particularly busy lately.”

  “I understand. I've been pretty busy myself.”

  “Sam, I'd like you to meet Colin Ross. He's our director of security.”

  Colin extended his hand and gave Sam one of the firmest handshakes he'd ever received. He looked Sam in the eye with a bold yet respectful gaze. “Sam, very nice to meet you. Great to have you on our team.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Looks like you two were in the midst of making an artful break for the door,” Merrill continued with a suggestive smile. “So, I won't hold you up. I just wanted to say hello and thanks for coming tonight.”

  “We had a great time, thanks.”

  “Drive safe,” Merrill finished as he and Colin drifted back into the remains of the party. Sam and Angela continued to the door.

  “So what do you think of our star rookie?” Merrill asked Colin.

  “He's already looking the part of a superstar,” Colin replied.

  Merrill responded with a proud smile.

  Monday, December 19, 1994

  Blanchard Corporation - Chelmsford, Massachusetts