“I was.” Laurie couldn’t help but spare a fond glance at Kaatje. “But Kaatje is such a good hostess, I couldn’t make myself go.”
“What was the situation? You were on a ship?”
“Yes.” The server brought their drinks and Laurie took a sip. “I was on a cruise and missed the boat because I…told Kaatje the wrong time.”
Frowning, Theo said, “That wasn’t very wise. What about your traveling companions?”
“I didn’t have any.” At his puzzled look she said, “I work for the company that owns the boat. My boss sent me on a cruise to get me out of the office for a while.”
Theo looked at Kaatje and said something in Dutch.
“No,” Kaatje said, chuckling. “You understood her correctly. Laurie doesn’t like to take vacations.”
“I don’t either,” Theo said, still looking stern. “You leave for a week and you worry about the office while you’re gone, then you have to do twice as much work when you get back.”
“Exactly!” Laurie sensed a kindred soul.
“Theo likes to go into work on holidays,” Antonia said, raising an eyebrow at him. “He says that’s the best day to catch up.”
“I’m with you on that. Even the cleaning crew doesn’t come in on holidays.”
“We have altogether too many holidays on this island. Everyone who’s done anything to merit an entry in the history books has a holiday named for him. It’s ridiculous. Do you have any idea how many lost man-hours we suffer from each of these so-called holidays?”
“I can imagine,” Laurie said, while Kaatje and her mother exchanged weary looks.
“Tell me more about your job. You must have an important position if your company sends you on a cruise.”
“She’s very important,” Kaatje said, smiling at Laurie. “I’m surprised they’re still in business after having her gone for just a few days.”
“What is your title?” Theo persisted.
“I’m a vice president,” Laurie said, “but they throw titles around instead of money.”
“But you’re going to be promoted,” Kaatje prompted.
“Yes, I should be promoted to senior VP in a month or two.”
“How old are you?” Theo asked.
“I’m thirty-one.”
He pushed his steel-framed glasses up on his nose and nodded solemnly. “That’s remarkable for such a young woman. I’d like it if Kaatje got her first steady job by the time she was your age.”
“How old are you?” Laurie asked, having never thought to bring it up.
“Twenty-eight. Well, twenty-eight in May.”
“I thought you were at least my age,” Laurie said, then she backtracked quickly. “Not that you look older than you are, but…”
“I’ve always looked older than I am.”
“Tell us about your job,” Theo said, ignoring all of the cross talk. “What division are you in?”
Laurie reluctantly pulled her attention away from Kaatje and said, “I’m in Theme Parks and Hotels. Ever since I started I’ve been working on our new park set to open in Osaka in June.”
Again Theo sat back in his chair, looking very surprised. “The earthquake hasn’t scrapped your plans?”
“No. It set us back a bit, but the government wants us to proceed with the original date. They think it will be a sign that Japan’s open for business.”
“Hmm,” Theo said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not familiar with Osaka. Is that where you’re located?”
“No. I’m in Los Angeles, but I go to Osaka every other month.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kaatje said, frowning. “Every other month?”
“Yeah, that’s how it works out.”
“But that kind of travel is awfully tiring. You haven’t been exposed to any radiation, have you?”
“Travel is sitting in a chair,” Theo said, scowling at his daughter and completely ignoring the question of radiation exposure. “It’s a good time to catch up on things without interruption.” His stern gaze landed on Laurie. “Do you agree?”
She did. Intensely. The thought of having cell-phone service in the air made her break out in a rash. It would just force her to take calls when she could be getting real work done. But she didn’t care for his manner, and she ignored the question to get back to the original thread. “On the months I don’t go to Japan, my boss does. Ideally, one of us would be there full time, but we need to be in LA to deal with the corporate side of the company.” She made a face. “Accounting, finance, personnel, government regulations. All the fun stuff.”
“ You’re the second in command for the whole project?”
“Yes, for the operations side of it, that is. Other divisions are responsible for construction and ride design and a million other things.”
“But won’t you have to relocate there when the park opens?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t make myself clear. I’m in project management. My division does all of the planning and implementation for new parks and the remodeling and expansion of old ones. Once the park is operational the permanent staff takes over. I’ll have to be there for a month before and a few months after, but then I’ll move on to the next project.” Maybe in a Florida location that’s awfully close to the Caribbean…
“Will that be out of the country again?”
That snapped her out of her daydream. “It’s impossible to know. I’ve worked on this project since the day I started with Luxor. If everything goes well, I might get to choose my next assignment. If not—I might be swabbing the decks of a cruise ship.”
Evidently, Theo didn’t share his daughter’s wry sense of humor. He kept probing, ignoring Laurie’s mild joke. “That’s a very, very important job. I can’t imagine what kind of compensation package a senior vice president at a major US corporation would receive.” He sat up even straighter, as though his comment had surprised himself. “Not that I’d ever ask such a rude question, of course.”
Laurie could tell he really wanted to know, and she offered up a tidbit. “Luxor is a little on the cheap side, to be honest. But they award a lot of restricted stock to senior VPs, reasoning that we’ll fight to increase profits if our compensation is tied very closely to the bottom line.”
He nodded, looking at her with undisguised admiration. “Maybe you can convince my daughter that working for a corporation can help secure her future.”
“I love my work,” Laurie said, looking at Kaatje, “but I don’t think Kaatje would care for it. I’d be better off if I could copy some of her views.”
“My daughter has, as we say, ‘gone native.’ I don’t think her work ideas would help you advance.”
His attitude irked her and she found herself showing off, something she rarely did. “There are only two people above me in Theme Parks Operations, and they’re both fairly young. I probably won’t have an opportunity to move up for quite a few years. I’d be fine if I slowed down a little to enjoy life. To be honest, I don’t have time to spend what I earn now.”
“That’s a problem Kaatje will never have,” Theo said, his tone fairly neutral.
“And one I will never want,” Kaatje said, looking at her father with an unblinking stare.
*
They were back on the boat by eleven and Kaatje stopped Laurie when she started to unzip her dress. “Leave it on for a little while,” she said, seductively. “You look really sexy in it.”
“I do?” She blinked fetchingly. “My foreign lover helped me pick it out.” Laughing, she said, “That sounds funny.”
“It does.” Kaatje sat down at the table in the galley. “You’re the foreign one. I’m a local.”
“True.” Laurie wedged herself onto Kaatje’s lap. She put her arms around her neck and said, “I hope dinner wasn’t too tedious for you.”
“Tedious? Why would it be tedious? I had a good time.”
“I just thought you might have been bored hearing me talk about my job.”
“Not at all. If you didn’
t have an important job we would have talked about whatever’s on my dad’s mind these days, and it probably would have been politics. You saved the day.” She grasped Laurie by the shoulders and looked at her carefully. “You’re safe in Osaka, right?”
“Yes, we didn’t go to Japan for a couple of months after the earthquake, and Luxor gave us radiation detectors to wear on our belts. None of them ever went off.”
“Maybe they were broken!”
“They were fine. They take very good care of us in many ways. Safety is always important.”
“Risking your life to help others is one thing, but for a job…”
This wasn’t where Laurie wanted the conversation to go. She’d been lectured about her commitment to the project far too many times, and having Kaatje do it made her skin itch. “I was surprised to learn that your mother has a job. I had the notion she stayed at home.”
“She doesn’t work a lot. Probably no more than twenty hours a week.” She smiled devilishly. “My dad probably wants her to have two jobs. He never has enough savings. Or insurance.”
“Insurance?”
Kaatje slapped herself on the forehead. “I’m embarrassed to admit this, but when we were young he bought divorce insurance. He was afraid child support would bankrupt him.”
“You can get divorce insurance?”
“You can get insurance on anything you can name in The Netherlands. We’re probably the most heavily insured nation on earth, and that’s all because of people like my dad. And if someone doesn’t have insurance and then suffers a loss? Good luck getting any sympathy.”
“That’s really different from what I’m used to. I’ve got a lot of life insurance, and the company pays for my car and health insurance, but most people buy the legal minimum. We’re a nation of optimists.”
“Or fools, if you asked my dad.”
*
They had sex that night, as they had every day. But this time part of Kaatje wasn’t available. Laurie wasn’t sure what it was, but something was missing. A fragile wall had gone up, leaving Laurie feeling sadder than she already did. She was leaving in the morning, but Kaatje was already gone.
*
They were near the St. Maarten airport at eight fifteen the next morning, sitting at an open-air café, having breakfast while planes puttered over their heads. “This is a fun place,” Laurie said as yet another small prop plane settled onto the runway right behind them. “The planes look like little toys as they go over.”
“Some of them do.” Kaatje turned, shielding her eyes from the sun as she scanned the skies. “Some don’t.”
Kaatje had been a miserly with her words, leaving Laurie to carry the load of their conversation. It was impossible to know if Kaatje was withdrawing because she was sad, or if she’d shut down because their time together was over. The flight was in a little more than an hour and she took the last bite of her spinach omelet and looked pointedly at her watch. Kaatje probably knew when the proper time was to leave, but she didn’t look like she was in any hurry to take charge.
“Right.” Kaatje got up and took her wallet out of her shorts.
“I’ve got it,” Laurie said at Kaatje’s raised eyebrow. “To thank you for the ride.”
Kaatje jammed her wallet back into her shorts and walked out of the restaurant, where Laurie found her a few minutes later, astride her motorcycle. Somewhat tentatively, Laurie got on and they took off, reaching the airport in fewer than five minutes.
Since she had only the clothes she’d arrived with, and the few things she’d purchased, her baggage consisted of a plastic bag from the clothing store Kaatje had taken her to. She got off the bike and stood on the curb, not sure how to say goodbye.
Kaatje cut the engine, and sat there, looking at Laurie expectantly.
Surprisingly, Laurie felt her eyes well up with tears and, when Kaatje’s arms encircled her, she started to cry harder. “I don’t want to leave,” she sniffed.
“Then don’t.” Kaatje’s voice was firm and sure.
“But I have to.” She looked towards the building, watching taxis stop to let out passengers. “My job…” She shook her head slightly. “It’s too important to leave…Osaka means…” She caught herself when she almost said “everything.” That didn’t seem true any longer. But it meant an awful lot, far too much to abandon it.
Kaatje’s gaze was level, unflinching. “Okay.” She reached over and gave Laurie a quick hug. “Come back when you finish with Osaka.” She gazed at Laurie for a few moments, looking like she was about to cry. “I’ll…miss you.” She turned the key and the engine caught. One more soft kiss and she started to roll away, with Laurie watching her until her eyes were so filled with tears she couldn’t focus.
It took a remarkably long time to get through security. Every person going to the US was there at the same time, and the place was woefully understaffed. Standing in line, her gut roiling with tension over the possibility of missing yet another connection, Laurie tried to think of Kaatje and mentally borrow some of her calm.
Kaatje. What in the hell had gone on for the past week? It was one thing to have sex with a gorgeous native on a Caribbean island, but quite another to be sick at the thought of leaving her. But she did feel sick. Sick to the core. The thought of waking up in her sterile condo, with air conditioning blowing over her instead of salty sea air, was enough to make her run out of the airport and hail a cab. But she’d worked six long years to bring Osaka online and it would take a hell of a lot more than a sexy woman with a beautiful smile to make her throw that overboard. When Osaka was running, she’d get back to her life. If things went perfectly, she’d be able to see Kaatje within a year. But there were months of hard work ahead, and dreaming about something that couldn’t happen wasn’t doing her a damn bit of good.
Chapter Nine
KAATJE WAS JUST pouring her first cup of coffee the next morning when her cell phone rang. “Do you miss me yet?”
“You know, I really do.”
The sound of Kaatje’s voice almost transported Laurie back to vacation mentality, but she was at work now and couldn’t linger in the fantasy. “I really don’t like where we left things. This doesn’t feel finished…to me at least.”
“I don’t want it to be either. But I don’t know what to do.”
It sounded stupid now that she was going to say it aloud, but it was the only answer she’d come up with when her thoughts kept returning to Kaatje. “Why don’t we talk to each other…a lot. Then we could continue to get to know each other.”
“Talk to me, huh? Yeah, I guess that’s okay.” Kaatje paused. “Of course that’s okay. I’d like that.”
“I need to hear your voice.” Wow! Where did that come from? We barely know each other. “But…I don’t want you to have a big phone bill. Do you ever use Skype?”
“Yeah, I have.”
“I did some research when I was waiting for my connection in Miami, and it looks like Skype is the best solution for people in our situation. I don’t have an account yet, but I’ll get one tonight when I have some free time.”
“It’s nine in the morning here, Laurie. Doesn’t that mean it’s five in the morning in LA?”
“Something like that.” She changed the subject deftly. “You’ll be glad to know that the cruise-line folks did a great job of packing up all my things and having them waiting for me at the airport in Miami. The bags were right where they said they’d be.”
Kaatje laughed softly. “They probably figured out that you were a big deal.”
“That might have had something to do with it,” she agreed, chuckling evilly. “There was a nice hand-written note from the woman who complained about me interfering with the cruise line. If it was possible to grovel in print, she did it.”
“Are you going to…” She trailed off, then started again. “She probably had somebody slap her hand for making a big-wig angry.”
“I’ve had it happen to me more than once. But Fernando was right. I was meddling w
here I didn’t belong. I dashed off an e-mail to the head of cruise operations commending her for getting my stuff back to me. That should get her out of any hot water she might be in.”
“I miss you more right now.”
Damn! Kaatje is putting it right out there! Is that a lesbian trait, or is she just very open? “Uhm…why’s that?”
“Because you did something nice. I have a tough time with people who use their positions to cause trouble for the little guy. I’m glad you don’t do that.”
Oh-oh. Might as well knock the stars out of her eyes right now. No sense in setting up false expectations. “To be honest, I’m not afraid to use anything at my disposal to cause trouble for people who deserve it. If I see someone on campus behaving in a way that makes the company look bad, I’ll call them out. But I don’t go any higher than that unless somebody begs for it.”
“You sound very feisty. I’m trying to envision your expression. I can’t manage it.”
“God knows I can be feisty. Especially at work.”
“Who have you batted around? Co-workers?”
Why is she asking such pointed questions? They’re impossible to dodge. “Well, yeah, that’s happened. I got a couple of women in the cafeteria fired.”
“The cafeteria? Did you catch them spitting into food?”
“No, but it was almost as bad.” She heard her own voice and realized she sounded shrill. Not as shrill as she had the day it had happened, but still… “I took some of my staff from Osaka up there for a working breakfast and one of my team members asked for something that one of the workers thought was odd. I think it was fish or something.”
“For breakfast?”
“Yeah, but that’s not the point. The woman made fun of his accent and told a coworker that she couldn’t understand him, but it sounded like he wanted fish and that was just stupid.”
“That’s pretty insensitive.”
“At the very least! I intervened and got him something acceptable. After breakfast I went back and gave both of the women a quick talk on cultural sensitivity.”
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