Chapter 63

They got the whole tour. Saw everything ... including what I did and nosed into it all.

Getting back to the office was simple. Out the door ... it opens easy ... blew out of my hands. Gonzalez is ready to close it with the Clark; I know when he does, the wind is no longer trying to blow me back into the shop. We turn north, street, turn right ... wind assisted walking. Still ... it is a chore ... two foot deep snowbank. If the wind backs off there’ll be five or six foot deep drifts. Morning will tell.

The office is warm and inviting. Maria is seated behind her desk doing the things I hate to do ... orders and taxes and payroll ... keeping track of what’s what and where that what is located.

She used to ask me ... until she figured out my answer was going to be...

“I don’t know ... you find out.”

She shifted to Personal Assistant. I wonder which of the wives or girlfriends would like a job.

“How is it?” she asked.

I admitted to brutal cold and so did they.

Maria asked, “Coffee, tea or something stronger?”

Stronger was requested ... Bailey’s Irish Coffee is what she served. I even had some ... it’s damn cold outside. Maria did not approve. She never does.

“You’re too little to drink.”

And that got me thinking of dancing on the bar on a tropical island in the Black Sea and the aftermath.

Yeah. I’m too little to drink.

Cold takes its toll. Energy goes and fuel would be appreciated.

Pentwater is closed in the winter. The motel owners are gone and the motels are closed. The Antler is the only place for food you don’t cook yourself.

The Antler is only open because Frank and Ernie live on the second floor.

The storm intensified. I was unsure it could ... but it did. The cups blew off the anemometer ... but one at a time. That destroyed the spinning arms and fried the wireless sending unit.

“Antler?” It was more a request than a suggestion.

I had my normal Wendy and fries. The suits had steak and baked with something green on the side. It was smalltalk until the food came ... gnashing and the clink of stainless on ceramic ensued.

Replete and fortified ... we had a little discussion about a return trip.

“No!” I said. “We’ll go to my house ... I’ll put you up. I have spare bedrooms.”

I called, Bianca answered. I gave instructions ... including we’ve eaten ... no dinner.

The house and spare rooms were ready ... clean bedding and dusted. Bathroom cleaned and fresh towels ... and ... most importantly ... the heat turned up to livable.

The news was as expected and the weather predicted warmer than normal and a possible chance of precipitation. “What country?” was asked often. When everybody had had a good laugh over the weather. We sat and talked about my production facilities ... too small and too slow.

And then they got down to business.

“We represent an anonymous party who sees the possibility for growth in the small boat community. He’d like to buy your business.”

When I’d recovered from my laughter they said...

“Really! You couldn’t be making any money at it.”

“Gentlemen ... and lawyers. Have you researched Flintkote?”