Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  "Dar, I'm very glad you chose to join us for this meeting," David said. "It's so nice to finally meet you after all these years."

  "Nice?" Dar's eyebrows lifted, but she smiled to take the edge off. "Wouldn't have missed it."

  "I am thinking we would not be having this meeting if not for you in any case," Hans chimed in. "Or for me either, in fact," he added, after a pause.

  "Without a doubt, without a doubt," David said. "It's a great opportunity for us to gain brilliant new partners, and investigate new business avenues."

  "Do you talk to these people regularly?" Hans asked Dar in German.

  Dar nodded. "On the phone," she clarified.

  "Do you make faces at them?"

  "Constantly."

  "Gut." Hans smiled benignly at his new colleagues.

  Dar steepled her fingers and tapped the edges against her lips, hiding a smile. "What do you recommend here, David?"

  "Everything," David answered without hesitation. "If you eat the napkin you'll be fine," he advised. "I'm for the ox tongue, myself."

  Dar eyed the menu, and wondered if she could get away with having a rabbit appetizer without having to admit that to Kerry. After a brief wrestle with her conscience, she folded her arms and looked up to see the waiter patiently waiting for her.

  Huh? Dar started to frown, and then realized it was because she was the only woman at the table. Heroically managing not to roll her eyes, she gave the bunny a last regretful thought and glanced at the menu one last time. "I'll take the scallops and the lamb roast, please."

  "Excellent," the waiter responded immediately. "Sir?" He turned next to Alastair.

  Dar picked up her glass of white wine and sipped cautiously, finding it mild and a little sweet. "Nice." She lifted the glass toward David.

  He beamed at her.

  "So," Alastair said as he put his reading glasses into his pocket, "are we all ready for tomorrow? Hans, I understand you have a well established relationship with our new partner in this venture."

  "I do," Hans agreed. "He is uncompromising, but he is fair."

  "You brushed up on your English since the last time we met," Dar remarked dryly in German, chuckling under her breath when he blinked innocently at her. "Prussian fraud."

  "Ah, we all have our secrets," Hans acknowledged. "And speaking of this how is your charming wife?

  "Doing fine, thanks." Dar smiled. "Alastair, let's make sure we put together a comprehensive package for this one. No ala carte."

  The two sales executives looked at their boss, who pursed his lips for a moment before he answered.

  "I don't want to be hasty," Alastair said. "If that's the plan, and I think it's a good one, Dar, then we need to take enough time to make sure we get all the wants and needs crossed and tied up." He picked up his wine glass and swirled it, then took a sip. "This is a big deal, and I want to be sure we can deliver what we promise."

  Hans grunted and nodded, but didn't say anything.

  "There's a lot riding on this. Lots of people watching," David spoke up. "You know, we've always been reasonably successful here, but that whole American company thing is tough to get past in a lot of places."

  Dar lifted her hand, and let it drop. "We can't change that," she said, "and besides, we're high technology. It's not like America doesn't have a history of that."

  "True," David said. "And that's why we've been as successful as we have, because that's exactly where a lot of this starts, and a lot of it generates from. "

  "It also helps," Francois spoke up, "that the offices here are all local people."

  Alastair sniffed and sipped his wine. "Well, just because I grew up on a farm outside Houston doesn't mean I'm dumb," he said. "Of course people want to deal with folks they can talk to, who understand their culture and share the same views and values."

  "You grew up on a farm?" Dar interrupted. "Alastair I can't imagine you in overalls."

  Everyone around the table laughed, as Alastair gazed drolly at Dar. "Thanks, Dar." He sighed. "Remind me to swap donkey tales with you later on."

  They paused, as the waiter returned with a busboy and a tray and their first courses were delivered. Dar studied the three dimensional food artwork in front of her and picked up her fork, not entirely sure where she was supposed to stick it.

  Oh well. There was always room service if she couldn't figure it out.

  KERRY GOT OUT of the truck, closing the door and brushing a bit of cardboard scrap off the sleeve of her blue sweater as she waited for Angie and Mike to join her.

  It was soft and cashmere, and had a casual elegance about it that she liked, especially when paired with her jeans and leather boots.

  "Mom's gonna croak." Angie indicated her sister's denims.

  "Not my fault," Kerry said. "I came up here to move boxes. She picked the pretentious place for dinner." She adjusted the three quarter sleeves and ran her fingers through her hair. "Let's go get this over with."

  "Y'know," Mike spoke up, "I don't think she wants to piss you off again, Ker." He walked next to his older sister as they crossed the parking lot and approached the entrance of the club, where valets were busy handling a parade of well dressed diners. "It didn't sound that way to me."

  "Me either," Angie chimed in. "Honestly Ker, he's right. I think she wants to make peace."

  "Well," Kerry grunted as they reached the sidewalk and headed for the double doors, "that's up to her. I hope you're both right." She politely edged around a group of three older women standing on the stairs, ignoring the looks she got as she pinned the doorman with her eyes and dared him to say anything. "Good evening, Charles."

  Caught by surprise, the elderly man gaped at her for a second, and then collected himself and reached for the door handle. "Good evening, Miss Kerry. It's been such a long time."

  Kerry gave him several points. One for recognizing her, and two for smiling, with a bonus added on for treating her as though she was a very welcome guest. She returned his smile and gave him a pat on the arm as they entered. "Is my mother here yet?"

  "Yes ma'am, inside," the doorman answered briskly. "Have a great evening."

  "Thanks," Angie said, as she followed Kerry and her brother inside. "I'm sure we will."

  Kerry paused for a moment as she cleared the door, sweeping her eyes over the interior and finding it had not changed much since she'd been gone from her hometown. A fresh coat of white paint and some new pieces of furniture appeared to be the only difference. She continued confidently toward the dining room.

  The hall was moderately crowded. Kerry caught a few familiar faces in her peripheral vision, not unusual for a small town such as this one. She kept her focus forward though, and spotted a man in a suit hovering near the Maitre D station who had the air of a political aide.

  Accordingly, she changed her path slightly, and addressed the man in the suit as he watched them approach. "Are you waiting for us?"

  The man blinked. "Ah--" He spotted Angie and Mike behind her, and his face relaxed in relief. "Yes, absolutely. We have a table waiting, won't you come with me?" He waited for her to nod, then turned and started into the large dining room.

  Angie poked her. "Stop scaring people!"

  "Me?" Kerry looked over her shoulder innocently. "I haven't done anything. Yet."

  "I should have brought my camera," Mike lamented. "This is probably going to be the first and only time I have a good time in this dusty old place." He caught up with Kerry as they turned a corner and entered a more or less secluded cul-de-sac, where a beautifully set table was waiting, and their mother standing at the head of it.

  There were three aides milling behind her, and Mike realized everyone was more than a little freaked out. He saw the guy who had met them scurry out of the way, and then Kerry took control of everything with a manner that made him cover his mouth not to laugh.

  "Mother." Kerry went to the head of the table and extended her hands, giving the aides a brief nod of greeting. "Good to see you."

 
Cynthia Stuart was caught faintly aback, but she rallied. "Kerrison, it's lovely to see you as well." She took Kerry's hands and clasped them. "I am so glad you were all able to come tonight." Her eyes flicked over Kerry's outfit, but to her credit, she sailed right past it. "Won't you sit down? Let's have some wine and celebrate being together."

  Kerry allowed a real smile to appear, seating herself to her mother's right hand side as Angie and Mike took seats next to her and the serving staff replaced the hovering aides. "That sounds wonderful." She took her napkin and flicked it open expertly, settling it over her lap as her crystal goblet was filled. "They haven't started serving chili dogs here, have they?"

  "Ah--"

  "Too bad. I wonder if they'll make me one."

  DAR WAS PATHETICALLY grateful to close the door to her hotel room behind her and trudge across the carpet, tossing her jacket down on the chair and continuing on through the room to the bathroom.

  Inside, she stripped off all the clothing she'd been wearing, and put it into the linen laundry bag hanging neatly on a hook beside the door. Then she turned the water on, waiting for it to come to a reasonable temperature before she stepped in and simply stood there, letting it rinse over her.

  After a minute, she picked up her scrubbie and body wash, and scrubbed her skin all over, sneezing a few times as she soaped her face, then following that with three washes of her hair with as much shampoo as she could fit in the palm of her larger than average hand.

  After a good rinse, she shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry herself with. She opened the door, wrapping the towel around her as she picked up the laundry bag and took it with her back to the door. She unlocked it and dropped the bag outside, then went to the phone and dialed the number for the concierge.

  "Good, ah, morning," a polite, male voice answered. "Ms. Roberts, what can I do for you?"

  Nothing. Dar was convinced nothing was better than a hotel with a 24 hour concierge. "I have a laundry bag outside my room. Can you get it picked up and taken care of?"

  "Of course," the man answered. "I'll send someone right up."

  Dar considered. "And could you get me some warm milk and honey sent up as well?"

  "Absolutely," the concierge said. "Right away."

  "Thanks." Dar hung up the phone and went back to toweling her now, thankfully, smoke free self off. It was after 1:00 a.m. local time, but her body still thought it was 8:00 p.m. She hoped the warm milk would let her get to sleep. "All I need is to be a zombie tomorrow," she muttered under her breath, looking up as a knock came at the door.

  Was it physically possible for anyone to come up that many flights of stairs that fast? Dar wrapped her towel around her again and tucked the ends in then ran her fingers through her wet hair before she went to the door and opened it.

  "Ah." Alastair's eyes widened. "Listen, Dar--"

  "Listen, Alastair," Dar cut him off. "Let's get this clear. The next time you drag me into a bar full of cigarette smoke and drunk assholes and force me to stay there, consider my resignation on your desk."

  Alastair's mouth closed with a click.

  "I am not bullshitting."

  "Never would have thought you'd bullshit about that." Alastair recovered. "Sorry about that, Dar," he said in a more conciliatory tone. "I know the boys are so thrilled about the opportunity here they went a little overboard."

  "Grr." Dar glanced at the man from housekeeping who sidled up and took the bag as quickly as he could and ducked back out of the way again. "Thanks." She turned and looked at Alastair. "I appreciate it's a cultural thing, Alastair, but next time, leave me out of it. I can't stand being in places like that, no matter how good the beer is."

  "I forgot--.well, no, really, I never even thought to ask, but you don't smoke, do you?" Her boss mused. "Or Kerry, I suppose. I guess it's what you get used to, and with all the new laws on our side, you don't bump into that as often."

  "Yeah, well." Dar glanced down the hall. "That's true, I guess," she conceded. "Well, let me get back inside and try and get some sleep before we have to go act like world killers tomorrow morning."

  Her boss lifted a hand and started off toward his own room. "Good idea, Dar." He turned at the door and looked back at her. "But you know you play a mean game of darts."

  Dar paused before she shut her door. "It could have been a lot meaner," she said, giving Alastair a brief smile, before she ducked inside and left the hallway in stately silence again.

  The knock at the door made her turn and grab the handle, yanking it open as she started to yell, only to swallow her outrage and muster a smile instead for the young woman holding a silver tray. "Oh. Sorry. Hi. Come on in."

  She backed away from the door and the server entered, placing the tray down and removing a soft, quilted cover from the pot on it. "Thanks."

  "You're very welcome." The woman presented the billfold to her, and Dar signed it, handing it back. "Will there be anything else you need this evening?"

  Dar glanced at the clock. "I hope not." She sighed.

  "Well then, have a good night." The server disappeared out the door, and Dar sat down next to the table holding the tray as it got blessedly quiet again. She picked up one of the nice, big stoneware cups and poured a glob of honey into it, then added steaming milk and stirred.

  It smelled wonderful. Her throat, scratchy and sore from the night spent yelling over bad music and breathing in smoke was aching for the sweet taste. She picked up the cup and took it over to the bedside table, setting it down and going back to her bag to get her sleep shirt.

  She picked up her PDA on the way and brought it back to bed with her, setting it down as she replaced her towel with the worn baseball shirt and shorts she seldom wore anymore. They smelled like home, though, and she sat down and picked up the PDA, flipping it open and checking for messages before she took out the stylus and scribed one of her own.

  Hey.

  I'm alone in my hotel with a pot of hot milk and a bad attitude. Where are you?

  D

  She set the PDA down and stretched out on the bed, picking up the cup and sipping from it. The milk tasted a little different than she was used to, but not in a bad way, and she, at last, allowed the stress and aggravation of the day to dissipate.

  Just like the old days. She glanced at the PDA, waiting impatiently for the red flash to appear. Well, almost just like the old days.

  "ARE THESE SOME of your new staff, Mother?" Kerry put down her glass relaxing a trifle as the servers gently interrupted the stilted conversation by placing salad plates in front of them.

  "Hm?" Her mother glanced around. "Oh, yes. Yes they are," she said. "A nice bunch of young people. I will introduce you to them tomorrow. Angela says you all have been very busy today."

  "Yes." Kerry sliced up her salad and decorated it with appropriate amounts of dressing. "Sorting through things, packing, you know."

  "Well, I really don't understand why you didn't have someone take care of that for you, Angela. Having Kerrison come here for that seems very silly to me." Cynthia frowned. "Very silly."

  Kerry took a moment to eat a big mouthful of the salad because it would take some time for her to chew it, and because she knew if she answered right at the moment the dinner probably would start sliding downhill faster than she'd anticipated. She swallowed, and washed down the crisp lettuce and greens with a sip of wine. "How could some hired firm decide what to keep and what to throw away?" She asked. "I don't understand that."

  "Yes." Angela stepped up. "Really, Mother, you didn't want me bringing a lifetime worth of old plastic cups and shopping lists back, did you?"

  "Well." Cynthia paused, and frowned. "I suppose not," she conceded. "But really, all that hard work."

  "Definitely worth it," Angie said. "Besides, it's been fun spending some time with my sister just hanging out."

  "Yeah," Mike added. "It's hard catching up in email or on the phone. You can't see her goofy faces."

  Kerry looked ac
ross at him, her eyes twinkling a little. "Ah, my secret's out. Now you know why I do all those conference calls."

  "I'm sure, I'm sure," their mother replied. "But surely you don't need the excuse of rummaging through all that to speak to one another. I'm positive Kerrison was glad to visit, just to see you. Isn't that so?" She looked at Kerry.

  "Of course," Kerry replied quietly.

  "There, see." Cynthia said. "So to have you endure this manual labor is senseless, really."

  "Eh." Kerry made a noncommittal sound. "It's not that bad." She went back for a second mouthful of salad, pausing when her ear caught the faint beep from her PDA. She put her fork down and unclipped the device from her belt, opening it and peering at its screen. "Excuse me."

  "What on earth is that?" her mother asked. "A calculator?"

  "A personal digital assistant," Kerry replied absently, as she scanned Dar's message. "With a note from Dar inside it." She extracted the stylus and started answering her partner's note, a smile tugging at her lips.

  Honey, if I could click my cowboy booted heels three times and disappear from having dinner with my mother just to share your milk and your attitude I'd be there in a heartbeat."

  K

  "How strange."

  Kerry covered the PDA and put it on the table. "Not really." She picked up her fork again. "We use many different types of communications in our line of work. This is just one of them." She selected a wedge of tomato and ate it.

  "Dar's in London right now, isn't she?" Angie spoke up. "It's late there."

  Kerry nodded, and swallowed. "She is. She got there this morning. She just finished meeting with our international team there, and she has a client meeting tomorrow morning."

  "London? How lovely." Cynthia took back the conversational ball. "I've always wanted to see London and Paris. So lovely and cultured." She looked past Kerry to where Angie was seated. "Isn't that something you'd be interested in, Angela? To see the continent?"

  Angie put her glass down. "Well, sure I guess. Who wouldn't?"

  "Perhaps we can plan a visit there," Cynthia said, with a glance at Kerry. "I would invite you as well Kerrison, but I know how busy you are with your work."