by R. Casteel
“Don’t worry about that my boy, looks like someone let the cat out of the bag a little early,” he said.
“Yes sir, and I don’t think we can put it back in,” Charles laughed, easing some of the tension.
“Don’t think I haven’t tried, you’re right, they don’t go back worth a damn,” the Senator laughed.
“Any suggestions, sir? I’ve never been in this situation before. Your name was brought up by the reporters. That’s why I called.”
“First, get your lawyer to handle the press. If he’s not used to doing that, find one that is.
“Next, I saw the way they are trying to smear you. You handle those questions. Be honest, but areas that you don’t want to go into, don’t let them take you there. They will try; I guarantee that. Lastly, any questions concerning me, direct them my way. I am used to handling those types of polecats.”
“Thank you Senator. I hope I don’t have to bother you again.”
“It’s no bother Charles. What you and Doctor Petterson are doing is fine and commendable. That’s what made America great. People like you are why I’m proud to be your Senator; besides the fact I’m family.”
“Good night Senator. Have a Happy New Years.”
“Same to you and your family Charles.”
Tiff sat a fresh pot of coffee on the table and poured a cup for each. Chris walked through the door and she reached for another cup. “Cynthia line three, Howard Petterson line two,” she said.
He hit the button for line three. “Hi, have you seen the news?”
“No, why is there something I should see?” she inquired.
“Only our families splashed across the front page headlines of every major news outlet in the country.”
Cynthia swore.
“Sweetheart that is exactly how I feel.” He glanced at the screen where pictures of their building were again being splashed across networks. “Hold just a second please.”
“Chris, you saw the news. Should Cynthia be here for the press conference tomorrow?”
Chris didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“I need you here on the next flight. If the reporters find you, say only they’ll see you at the press conference and nothing more. I’ll take care of the ticket and leave a message at the hotel about the time. The ticket will be under the name of Cynthia Douglas, just in case the hounds are watching the airport. I’ll have someone at this end to meet you. I’ll see you soon, Bye.”
He turned away from the phone. “Tiff, make the arrangements. Make sure the airline understands she is traveling under a different name.”
He punched line two. “Howard, Charles here, have you seen the news?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you know why I’m calling. When the reporters show up…”
“Too late Charles they have already been here. In fact, I’m staring at my face right now on the set,” he informed Charles.
“Damn! Somebody switch the channels,” ordered Charles.
“Yeah Howard, we’re watching it now. No, you’re right I like the way you handled them. Our personal life is none of their business.”
“Has Cynthia been told?” Howard asked.
“Yeah. I just got off the phone with her. She’s flying in later tonight. Ron is flying in later also,” he tiredly sighed.
“I’ve taken care of the business deal I had. I’ll go out and stay with your mother while this is going on. Just in case she needs help with Kristina or the press,” Howard said.
“Howard, I can’t ask you to go back to L.A. to look after them,” Charles argued.
“As I recall, you didn’t ask.”
“Ok, you win. Fly up with Ron. Then we will get you on the next plane out. Howard, thanks.” Charles took a swallow of coffee and turned to Chris. “Are you up to facing the pack of vultures tomorrow?”
“Sure,” he smiled. “We’ll either dazzle them with brilliance or baffle them with the standard “BS” answer lawyers give them, No Comment.”
“First off, I am starved. It’s after six. Should we order delivery or not?” he asked.
Nancy made the call and they got down to work.
The news media that was camping outside was quick to note all the lights were on.
To quote the press, “They are possibly destroying evidence linking Randall Construction to ties with organized crime, or transferring their finances to overseas accounts where the IRS can’t get access.”
On into the night they worked, breaking only when the pizzas arrived.
Dr. Petterson arrived about nine-thirty and joined the party.
Cynthia got there at eleven pm. She came and gave Charles a breath-stopping kiss.
“I missed you,” Charles said as he held her close.
“Me too,” she whispered.
“Okay, as they say in the movies, ‘It’s a wrap’,” Charles announced. “Press time in the morning, ten o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Three things had been accomplished by their late night.
One…they were as ready as possible for tomorrow.
Two…Cynthia was there.
And three….
They were on board the train, as passengers, with a growing awareness that Someone else was at the controls.
Charles took the company vehicle home. Cynthia ducked down in the seat when they left. She had done the same coming in. He knew her being there would help see him through this. He also hoped it would show a united front to those who viewed the news.
Whatever happened, they were together.
They made it home, but the reporters hiding in the bushes were on them before they got into the house.
Charles and Cynthia never saw them coming until the lights were blinding and the cameras rolling.
The reporters were between them and the house. Cynthia was so mad she climbed all over them like they were wild horses.
Charles joined in the fun. He had wanted to do this all evening. They were, after all, on his property. Those that had their cameras intact fled to the safety of the street. Cynthia picked up the fallen cameras and carried them into the house, where they fell into each other’s arms and laughed until their sides hurt.
Charles was on the phone with the police as several patrol cars pulled up in front of the house.
“Mr. Charles Randall?” an officer asked.
“Yes sir.”
“I’m told you have some property in there that belongs to the reporters outside.”
Cynthia stripped the cameras of their film and gave them to the police.
“They are talking about pressing charges and they want the film,” the officer continued.
“Fine, they can have the film.” He took the cover off the film canister and exposed the film to the bright light over the door. “Tell them if they want to press charges, I’ll be more than happy to bring a counter charge of trespassing.”
In the end, the reporters went away without further incident.
Charles woke up early the next morning. His hand crept up over Cynthia’s thigh to cup her breast. Even in her sleep, Cynthia responded to his touch, her nipple growing hard at his tender manipulation. “Care to join me in the shower?”
“Mmm…promise me more of this,” she said, “and I would love to.”
“My pleasure,” he softly whispered against her ear.
Throwing back the covers, he noticed the smile on her face.
“Oh my, are you always this hard in the morning?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off his erection.
“Only when you’re in my thoughts day and night.”
“Well, big boy, it looks like I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands to alleviate your problem.” She reached out and stroked the hardened flesh.
“I—I was hoping you would,” he groaned as her fingers lightly circled the sensitive head of his penis.
They stepped into the shower.
Charles picked her up and Cynthia wrapped her legs around him as he slowly lowered her down until he wa
s completely and firmly sheathed inside her. Cynthia caught her breath and leaned her head back, his strength supporting her. Slowly, she started moving and he let her set the pace.
Charles felt her body go rigid as her muscles tightened around him. His body answered the summons as he emptied himself into her.
Together, they slowly slid down the shower wall. The hot water beat upon their bodies and the steam surrounded them like a warm blanket.
Cynthia sat cuddled in his lap, her head on his shoulder. Gently, he ran his fingers through her wet hair and down her back. He felt the feathery touch of her lips against his neck and closed his eyes.
Past fears and hopes for the future clashed within him. His mind, unwilling to make a commitment, fought with his heart, unwilling to let her go.
* * * * *
After they dressed, Charles took Cynthia by the hand and led her through the kitchen. “Close you eyes.”
She did as requested and Charles continued out the door.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
“I don’t believe it!” Cynthia squealed in delight. She walked around her classic sixty-five mustang, astonished at the perfect condition. Her hand glided over the hood. The deep candy-apple paint reflected her pleasure.
“How…I…it was,” she tried to ask but the words weren’t there.
The joy in her eyes and face were enough.
“A friend owns a garage in Denver. He brought his tow truck up and we dug it out. Took better part of a day but we finally reached it. He towed it back to the shop and started working on it immediately.”
Stopping in front of him, she stood on tiptoes and gave him a very affectionate thank you kiss.
“It’s getting late,” she reminded him. “We need to be going.”
They were the last to arrive at the office. He noticed Karen had a smirk on her face as she glanced at Steven. Charles poured a cup of coffee and sat down to watch the replay of yesterday and last night’s confrontation on National News Network.
“Anyone have any questions about the material covered last night?” He looked around the crowded room. “Chris, you have the memo we approved last night. Anything else you see needs changed or added?”
“Everything looks good. I went over it again last night. I think we covered just about everything.”
For the last half hour before the press conference, they watched the reporters watching them from outside.
This is your Channel Eight News. I’m Jonathon Kinsley and we’re live outside the home office of Randall Engineering and Construction, where in just minutes a statement will be made concerning the building of a new hospital for Doctor Ronald Petterson, in Rising Star, Texas. It is rumored that several key politicians and executives from around the state have secretly pumped hundreds of thousands of dollars into this project.
Last night, as reporters tried to interview Charles Randall, he and his alleged mistress Cynthia Petterson, the sister of Doctor Ronald Petterson, attacked the camera operators and reporters. Several cameras were damaged in the fight and police were called in to restore order.
The door is opening. There is Charles Randall, the CEO and Director for this family owned company. There’s Charles Randall, Sr. He founded the company forty years ago. Seven years ago, due to poor health, he stepped down and turned the business over to his son. Doctor Petterson and his sister are here also. Let’s turn our attention to the podium.
“Hello, I’m Christopher Ballenger, the attorney for Randall Construction. All questions will be addressed to me. If any of the staff or family wishes to reply, they may do so. We will try to answer all questions concerning the building of a hospital in Rising Star Texas. Any personal questions may or may not be answered. Those questions will be dealt with on an individual basis. First, I have a prepared statement from the CEO and the Board of Directors.
“Randall Construction Company is planning the building of a three story hospital in Rising Star Texas to be used by the citizens of that county and surrounding counties.
“Dr. Ronald Petterson is the doctor for that community and will be the Hospital Director when it is finished. The hospital will be built on ten acres of land that has been leased by the city to Dr. Petterson for the sole purpose of building said hospital. The hospital at this time has not been given a name, nor is there a particular name being considered at this time.
“No monies have been given by individuals or groups of individuals for determining the name of the hospital. No date has been set for construction. A date will be announced publicly for the groundbreaking ceremonies. The contributors to the hospital wish to remain anonymous at this time.
“I can tell you that Randall Construction is donating all services for design, material procurements and construction supervision. Grey Building and Construction Materials is providing all materials at cost.
“Local labor and contractors will be used where possible. Once the construction begins, Dr. Petterson will begin taking applications for all positions within the hospital. This hospital is being built to provide quality care to patients and support to their families. Thank you. Are there any questions?”
“Can you tell us the names of those contributing to the hospital?”
Chris started to answer; Charles stopped him. “Sir, you look like an intelligent person. Now did you hear what I said?"
“Yes, I did.” the reporter answered.
“Did you understand what I said?”
“Yeah, sure,” he had a smug grin on his face.
“Then tell me,” Charles asked sarcastically, “how is it you can hear what I said, understand what I said and can’t understand what my attorney just read in the prepared statement that I wrote? The names of all contributors will, for the time being, remain anonymous.
“If you need help with the word, I’ll save you the trouble of looking it up. It means we won’t be giving them out at this time. Furthermore, my personal life is not an issue and will not be discussed, now or any other time. The next time I have cameras stuck in my face, in the middle of the night outside my home, I’ll do more than just take the film and shove a little.”
They turned and walked back through the door.
By the time they got to the office, the phone was ringing. Nancy answered and looked at Charles, “Senator Shaffer.”
She handed him the phone.
“Hello Sena….”
“Charles my boy,” he interrupted, “I am proud of the way you shut down those pesky reporters. Couldn’t have done it better myself. Wish I had thought of it. Proud of you boy, call me any time.”
Nancy sat a fresh pot of coffee on the table and everyone got down to business.
“I think the press conference went rather well.” With tongue in cheek, Chris chuckled. “It should buy us some breathing space, for now. I need to go back to the office unless you can think of something else? Call if you need anything.”
“Nancy, the checklist please.” Charles looked at the list and started reading.
“Legal documents concerning our agreement with Dr. Petterson?”
Nancy picked up a sheath of papers, “Signed.”
“Legal documents concerning Grey Building and Construction?”
Karen handed the originals to Charles, “Signed.”
“Lease agreement from City Council of Rising Star?”
“With all this publicity we’re receiving, they met last night for a special council. They should have sent it this morning,” Ronald speculated.
“It’s here,” Nancy beamed, holding up a faxed copy.
“Survey report? I had those last night…Ah! Here they are.”
“Authorization for highway access?”
Charles Sr. cleared his throat, “I called an old friend of mine on the Highway Department. It’s been approved. All we have to do is give them a day’s notice.”
“Building plans and prints with authorization to use and modify them?”
Tiffany placed a long cardboard cylinder on the des
k. “These came in this morning by overnight express.”
“Bank financing is still pending,” interjected Steven.
Okay, team, one last major hurdle to jump. With the way everything has fallen into place, I expect to be able to step over it with minimal effort. “Are there pictures of the property?”
Nancy and Tiff started looking.
“Yes,” Karen frowned. “I’ve been looking them over, but they don’t appear to be of much use to us.”
Nancy and Tiff stopped looking.
“Okay, that’s easily taken care of. Karen, give Ron one of our cameras when he goes back. He can snap a few rolls and send them to us.”
“Ron, I want shots from every angle. Long shots, close ups as well as overhead shots.”
“Cynthia, can you go with him and bring my car and the camera back?”
“As long as I don’t have to stay there over night,” she said with a lift of the eyebrow and suggestive look in her eye.
Ron chuckled and Cynthia playfully punched him on the arm.
“People, I know its lunch time but Ron has to get back to his patients. if no one objects too much, I want to go over the floor plans to locate any changes.” He removed the sheave of paper from the shipping container.
“I realize that normally all of you would not be involved at this stage, but if we have learned anything up to now is that this building project is anything but normal.”
That brought out another chuckle from around the room.
“Dr. Petterson, show us your desires and dreams.”
Ronald stood up. “My pleasure. I would like to present to you the plans for the…Faith Memorial Hospital, of Eastland County, Texas.”
Two hours later Ron and Cynthia were headed to the airport while Charles, had rolled up his sleeves and started making changes to the blueprints. They were fortunate. There were no alterations required to the structure itself, only to inner walls concerning room placement, size and access. Over all, Charles figured it had saved the company several thousands of dollars and over six to eight months of work having these plans donated. Not to mention the actual groundbreaking ceremony could be moved up to just weeks away instead of several months.
He hit the intercom. “Nancy, make a note to publicly thank Hayworth Engineering for the use of their plans.”