Suite Embrace

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Suite Embrace Page 18

by Anita Bunkley


  Did they think of her as an outsider now that she was no longer married to Count Wilhelm? Or maybe they were snubbing her because Mark’s star status had faded and he no longer traveled in their circles, preferring to bury himself in a second class resort? Had news leaked about her imminent departure from Deleur Cosmetics? She simply had no answers. But one thing she did know: the cool reception she had received from people she had thought were her friends was frightening, and she had to do something about it or risk being permanently shut out of the world to which she absolutely had to remain connected.

  Calling potential investors, leaving messages for them, and then tracking them down had taken much more time than she had thought, but she’d done it, and now she had to face the truth. She had failed in her mission and Mark’s documentary would not be made, at least not with funds she raised.

  Nervously, she glanced over the list of names again, depressed by the way she had been treated. Why hadn’t she managed to persuade them to commit to Richard’s project? Even when she had informed them that Black Entertainment Showcase was on board as the distributor, they still had not budged. Couldn’t they understand that a permanent record of her son’s life and his achievements was only the first step? That a book deal, a DVD and his media appearances would surely rake in the cash and give them a healthy return on their money?

  At one time, when Virina had been married to a wealthy Palm Springs Realtor, she had earned the reputation as the most effective, sought-after charity fundraiser in the state. Back then, she had honed her skills to a fine art and brought in record-breaking sums for a roll call of nonprofit organizations. Now, she couldn’t raise a dime to benefit her son, as well as ensure her own future.

  Contemplating her dilemma, Virina set down her notepad, opened a bottle of Evian and took a quick sip. If there was one thing she hated, it was failing, and even worse was for anyone to know that she had failed. Now, she’d have to find a creative way to break the news to Richard without letting on that she had miscalculated her leverage with people she’d thought were her friends.

  When the doorbell rang, she hurried to answer, pushing depressing thoughts from her mind. It was Federal Express and the package she signed for was from Richard. She ripped it open and was both delighted and uneasy to see that it was the DVD first cut of the film that he had promised to send her. How much had this cost and how many people did he owe money to? she worried. But most importantly, what reason could she give him for not coming through with the funds to complete the project?

  She took the DVD into the living room and slipped it into the DVD player, anxious to see what Richard had done. It started out with an overview of Mark’s childhood and his early years, using photos that she and Mark had provided. Her eyes grew misty as she watched a montage of early pictures of herself, Mark and his father, James.

  God, James was so handsome, Virina mused, now able to see how much Mark resembled his father. Seeing the three of them together brought a rush of memories back. Her early days of modeling. The fun she’d had while living in New York. Resettling in Norway as a single mother after James walked out on her. It all seemed so long ago, and yet Virina still missed the hell out of James and wished they could have made it together.

  Other photos followed. Mark when he first arrived in Norway, wearing a baggy knit sweater and his first pair of skis. Virina on the mountain with Mark, giving him pointers on how to do parallel turns on his first slope.

  The memories tumbled around, crowding into her mind, making Virina both proud and sad. She and Mark had been so close back then, almost like brother and sister. He had trusted her completely, followed her advice. But now he seemed so distant and angry all the time. What had she done to deserve this kind of treatment? All she had ever wanted to do was look out for him, prepare him for a better life than she had had as a child. Why didn’t he understand that she had never wanted him to know what it was like to go to bed hungry, to wear thin-soled shoes and secondhand clothing and to feel cold all the time?

  Virina’s parents had been Norwegian farming peasants, as her grandparents had been before them. Stoically accepting their station in life, her family had been content to live in their small wood-and-sod house, to own two changes of clothing, to earn their living with an ancient plow and a pair of mules. But Virina had never stopped yearning for more. She spent all her spare time skiing, to stay out in the open and out of her tiny crowded house. When it became clear that she was a talented skier, she had begged her father to let her go to Oslo to train for the Olympics. He had refused: he needed her on the farm. Angry and resentful, she put away her dream, but as soon as she turned eighteen, she fled the farm, worked odd jobs in Oslo and eventually made her way to the United States. To her good fortune, James Jorgen had come along and made her journey worthwhile, and she’d always be grateful to him for that, even though he’d dumped her for that bitchy Ethiopian and abandoned his only son.

  The film rolled quickly through Mark’s high school years, documenting his rigorous training schedule and his many competitions, including his Olympic win in 1992 at the Albertville Olympic Games in France. What a great time they’d had! Norwegian skiers won every cross-country skiing race at the competition that year, and Mark had been right up there with Björn Daehlie and Vegard Ulvang, each of whom won gold medals, too.

  The next section of the film started with Mark talking about his decision to leave the competitive world of skiing at the age of thirty-six to explore teaching.

  When a shot of the exterior of Scenic Ridge came up, Virina paused, waiting for more references to Mark and his work at the school. However, the story took a turn away from Mark when Deena Simpson’s face appeared and she began talking about how and why she and her husband had started the ski school. An in-depth piece followed, showcasing Jerome Simpson, whose family had acquired the backwoods property in the Roaring Fork Valley for very little money seventy-five years ago. Next came details about the construction of the resort. Then interviews with various staff members, including Skylar Webster. Testimonials from former students. Endorsements by black ski clubs. Another shot of Skylar, this time with Mark, relaxing in front of a fire while chatting with a group of students.

  Virina gasped. What was this about? The documentary was more of a promotional piece for Scenic Ridge, than a feature story on her son’s life. It was a good thing that her investor-friends hadn’t come through. This was not what she had pitched to them at all!

  While staring at the images on her television screen, an idea began to form in her mind. A slow smile curved her lips. Richard had just provided the answer to her dilemma and she was going to use it.

  Quickly, she snatched up the phone and began punching the keypad while mentally rehearsing how she was going to blast Richard with outrage and turn her failure to her advantage.

  “I want to know why this material is focused so heavily on the ski school at Scenic Ridge!” she shouted into the phone as soon as Richard answered.

  “I thought we agreed that I would include Mark’s current status as an instructor at the ski school. We talked about it when we were at dinner in New York. Remember?”

  “No, I don’t remember any such conversation. I agreed on shots of Mark at work! Not the Simpson family’s life story.”

  “But their story adds so much to the project and it’s right in line with the vision I have for the film.”

  “I don’t care. It’s not what I envisioned and it’s certainly not what I told the investors they’d be buying. I never agreed to any shots of, or references to Deena Simpson, or her sister, Skylar Webster, either. That damn little hotel concierge might think she’s got a place in my son’s life but she damn well doesn’t have a place in my son’s life story. This was not to be a promotional piece for her sister’s business venture.”

  “Then I guess we really aren’t on the same page, Miss Dagrun. Mark made it clear to me before I began that he’d only participate if the ski school was featured, too.”

  “He
never said that to me!” Virina snapped.

  “Then I guess you two didn’t communicate very well,” Richard said, trying to smooth things out. “I thought you understood the direction of the piece.”

  “Well, you can forget about getting a dime from me. I’m through with you and now I’ve got to go back to my investors and tell them the project is off. How do you think that will make me look? You’ve caused me a great deal of embarrassment, Richard, and I don’t take things like that lightly.” She slammed down the receiver, completely satisfied that she had solved her problem. As for Richard, let him find someone else to raise money to promote Scenic Ridge, she sure as hell wasn’t going to.

  “What in the world is wrong with Mark?” she muttered crossly as she shoved her notebook into her desk drawer. “Why is he so dead-set on promoting that school anyway? What has gotten into him?”

  After a few churning moments of rage, she settled on an answer to her question: Skylar Webster. That’s what happened to Mark and Virina knew what she had to do. Picking up the phone again, she connected with information and got the number for the county courthouse in Tampa, Florida. That would be the place to start. If Skylar had been a paralegal there, then surely there was some record of her connection to the court system. It might take some doing, but Virina would not give up until she learned everything possible about Skylar, and she was certain some of it would not be good.

  And when I get my ammunition, Mark will realize that I am right to steer him away from that woman and that place, she vowed. Grabbing her pen to jot down the phone number for the Hillsborough County Courthouse.

  Within seconds, Virina got through to the county Human Resources department and politely asked for an employment reference for Skylar Webster.

  “Oh, yes, Skylar,” the woman replied. “All I’m permitted to tell you is that when she terminated her employment with the county after her accident she had an excellent work record.”

  “She was in an accident?”

  “Oh, yes,” the woman concurred, going on to describe the elevator accident in great detail. “You know, the accident is public record, so I’m not violating any rules by telling you what happened. Such a shame. Good thing Skylar came out of it okay. Everyone at the courthouse loved working with her.”

  “So, she’s fully recovered?” Virina probed, hoping to lead the woman deeper into the conversation. “Her injuries won’t interfere with her ability to work as a salesgirl at my cosmetics company, will they? Are there any restrictions or workman’s compensation issues that I need to be aware of?”

  “Oh, let’s see,” the woman replied.

  Virina could hear the lady shuffling through some papers.

  “No. Everything is settled. Dr. Pope approved her return to work.” A beat. “But why is Skylar applying for a job with your company anyway?”

  “Because she needs the money, I guess,” Virina replied.

  “I doubt that. Would you be looking for a job if an elevator company awarded you four million dollars?”

  “Four million dollars?” Virina repeated, clutching the handset of her phone, her throat beginning to dry. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure? Of course, it was in the papers. Everyone knows about her settlement.”

  Everyone except Mark, Virina thought, realizing that she had found the ammunition she needed.

  Richard Nobel stared at his phone, which was still humming with a deadly buzz. Virina Dagrun had just sabotaged his project! He jammed the handset back into its cradle and placed his fingertips to his lips, worried. Anxiously, he scanned the pile of bills on his desk, the folders filled with contracts committing him to thousands of dollars.

  I’ve got no investors, and I’m already in the hole for a hell of a lot of money in preproduction costs. Richard got up and paced the floor of his studio, thinking. The film is half finished. I’ve already spent too much time and money to toss it in the trash. What in hell am I going to do?

  Richard knew he had enough material to create two different pieces if he had to: One on Mark Jorgen to satisfy Virina’s investors, and another on Scenic Ridge that could stand on its own. But that was not what he wanted to do and not what BES expected him to deliver. If he didn’t straighten this mess out quickly, he’d lose all credibility with the network and he was not about to let that happen. He had to either find other investors or change the focus of the film. At this late date, neither option seemed promising.

  Chapter 23

  Snowflakes drifted down, adding to the accumulation that already covered the brick walkway that led from the main lodge to the ice skating rink. Skylar lifted her face toward the star-filled sky and stuck out her tongue, smiling to feel the tiny bits of ice melting in her mouth. Winter weather was still so new to her, but she enjoyed it and had come to love the peaceful quiet that fell over everything when snow blanketed the land. The moon was full, adding to the luminous sheen of white that surrounded her, creating a feeling of being lost in a wintry fairyland.

  Stopping at a wooden bench facing the rink, she sat down, tucked her hands into the pockets of her parka and leaned forward, focusing on a middle-aged couple in the center of the rink who were trying hard to remain upright.

  From the way they were interacting, Skylar guessed that they were married—and definitely still in love. They were laughing and holding hands, oblivious to the other skaters, who whirled past without giving them any notice. When the woman crashed to the ice and landed on her backside, her companion quickly leaned down to help her up and then kissed her gently on the lips. The romantic gesture made Skylar’s heart lurch in longing. She missed Mark so much and wanted nothing more than to be sitting with him right then, her arm linked through his, her head resting on his shoulder.

  For the past two weeks, she had made it a point not to be alone with Mark and knew he was upset with the way she’d been acting. Even during filming when Richard’s crew had been in town, she had made sure that her contact with Mark had been limited to times when other staff or students had been around. By cooling down the relationship, she had hurt him very much, but not as much as she feared she would once she told him the truth.

  Though she had been busy with guests’ demands during the Black Winter Sports Reunion, and then involved with Richard during his filming, all of that was over now, and she could no longer use work as an excuse not to spend time with Mark.

  The last time she saw him was in the main dining room yesterday afternoon, and he had actually turned his back on her and struck up a conversation with a buxom sister from Georgia who was not shy about showing off every one of her curves in her skin-tight, red ski suit. The sight had made Skylar slightly nauseous.

  But she had no one to blame for her misery but herself, and it would be up to her to make things right. Mark had stopped inviting her to dinner and no longer called every night to hear her voice before he went to bed. They had drifted so far apart that the possibility of losing him completely was great, making Skylar shift nervously on the bench.

  She loved Mark, and knew he wasn’t going to hang around forever, waiting for her to tell him what was wrong. Why should he stick by her, only to be brushed off again and again? He deserved better, and she had to tell him everything or pull out of the relationship all together.

  “Tomorrow,” she decided, prepared to take her chances. “Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it, but at least I’ll know where I stand.”

  When Mark answered the knock on the door of his cabin, he was shocked to see Virina standing on the porch, dressed in a camel suede poncho and a fluffy coyote fur hat. He had barely recovered enough from her surprise visit to say hello, when she blurted out the reason she had come.

  “We need to talk,” she stated in that flat, demanding tone that Mark had heard too often during his youth. It meant that she was upset with him, was determined to have her way, and was not going to listen to a thing he had to say. There had been a time when that crisp edge to her voice would have made him very nervous, but no more. All he coul
d think of was that it was late, he was tired, and not in the mood for one of her ranting, raving outbursts over something petty that didn’t concern him.

  “Well, welcome back,” Mark said, ignoring her rude declaration. “When did you get here?”

  “Two hours ago.”

  “Come on in. What’s up?”

  Virina stepped inside, quickly shed her outer clothing and then glanced around, as if to make sure they were alone. “Is anyone here with you?”

  “No, why?”

  “As I said, we need to talk.” She sighed and went over to the bar. “Fix me a Linie Aquavit, will you, Mark? My nerves are absolutely shot. The flight in from Los Angeles was horrid! Turbulence all the way, and Henri forgot to stock the plane’s bar before we left. I swear I’m going to fire that man.”

  Mark grunted his reaction as he went to the bar and fixed his mother’s drink. “You can’t fire Henri. He doesn’t work for you, he works for Wilhelm, doesn’t he?”

  Virina simply glared at Mark, accepting the glass he offered to her. “I can get Wilhelm to fire him if I complain enough. That man is worthless. Absolutely worthless.” She swallowed a hefty gulp of the schnapps and then licked her pink-tinted lips. “It’s so hard to get good help, people who want to do their jobs. I just don’t understand it.”

  “So, did you come all the way back to tell me you’re firing Henri, or is there something more important on your mind?” Mark asked, moving to sit on the sofa. Virina sat down on the love seat opposite him and crossed her legs.

  “Oh, I came with plenty to say, but I’m afraid you’re not going to like most of it.”

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “It’s about Richard’s documentary. I was extremely upset when I saw that he had turned it into a promotional piece for this place. It was supposed to be about you, Mark. Not about Jerome Simpson and his family. You are an Olympic gold medal winner who happens to head their ski school. That’s it. I can’t raise money for a film if it’s not exclusively your story. It’s one thing to mention where you work and refer to Scenic Ridge in passing, but all that back story on Jerome Simpson’s family. And why the hell was Skylar even interviewed?”

 

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