Chapter 33B

Vanetta sat in the Jacuzzi, letting the jets massage her body. Though there wasn't much of interest on TV on a Sunday afternoon, she had it turned on anyway just for the novelty of it.

KGO was running some old movie, which had the effect of making Vanetta feel at home. There's nothing like something familiar to calm the nerves, and the movie was doing just that. In fact, Vanetta was starting to feel so comfortable that she started to doze off, and when the timer on the Jacuzzi ended its cycle, the buoyancy created by the bubbling waters stopped, and Vanetta felt herself slipping underwater. "Not the most illustrious way to end a promising career," she scolded herself, and stepped from the tub right into the large glass-enclosed shower where she blasted away any remaining drowsiness with a thorough rinse under icy-cold water. Teeth chattering and nipples puckered to the point where they were almost painful, Vanetta endured it as long as she could until she was positive she was now fully awake!

Instead of drying off, Vanetta slipped into one of the big fluffy robes provided by the hotel and wrapped a towel around her hair. Munching on a pear, she picked up the phone and called Lisa. Considering the treatment she was getting from the publisher, it was only fair that she let her host know she had arrived safe and sound.

The phone was answered on the first ring, and the bubbly voice of Lisa Greenwood sparkled over the phone. Vanetta smiled as she exchanged pleasantries with her host. When Lisa asked what Vanetta was planning on doing and then hearing that Vanetta was thinking of ordering room service, Lisa gasped.

"Vanetta," she exclaimed, "you're in the same building that houses two of the finest restaurants in the city! The Tonga and the Laurel Court, so please do not ruin your appetite for this evening. All of my senior staff are looking forward to dining with you this evening. I know we should have asked first, but by the time they brought it up, it was really too late to call, and then since you said you were coming in solo, I wanted to take you out and show you our city. I have an idea," Lisa continued. "Why not go to the Roof Garden and order a drink? I can be there in twenty minutes, and we'll have a nice light snack together?"

Vanetta laughed, amused by Lisa's bubbly personality, and said she still had to unpack but that wouldn't take her very long. If she could find this Roof Garden, she would be there, as long as it wasn't on top of the tower!

Lisa assured her that the Roof Garden was a place for executives to unwind and that it was on top of the older Fairmont section and that it had a great view of the city.

Promising to meet in about 30 minutes, Vanetta unpacked her bags and hung her clothes in the closet and put her toiletries in the master bath. Looking at her collection of clothes, she picked out a rather conservative Dior, and what Kelly would call "sensible shoes."

A quick touch of makeup and brushing of her hair, and she was soon back in the glass elevator headed to the main lobby where she got directions to the Roof Garden. Lisa had been right - the view was spectacular, though the breeze was a bit chilly. Vanetta chose a table that gave her a view of the Bay, and not wanting any more alcohol at this time, she ordered a Perrier with a twist of lime. She wondered why Todd had never bothered to come here given there was so much Star Trek history in the area, but then as she noticed the smog, she knew why. Todd, the dreamer of a universe where people were fair and equal, could never bring himself to see the reality of modern day pollution.

Vanetta's reflection on Todd was suddenly interrupted by a now-familiar effervescent voice. "Vanetta? I'm Lisa," said the tall, thin blonde who held out her hand in greeting. She had a good solid handshake, and Vanetta was relieved this was not one of those Hollywood air kissing greetings. You could tell a lot from a handshake, and this woman, bubbly voice aside, was a serious player. A firm grip, dry and not exerting too much pressure. Vanetta felt better already as she looked at Lisa with an appraising eye.

Perhaps five foot ten in stocking feet, 130 pounds soaking wet, Lisa Greenwood had naturally curly hair which clung to her shoulders. And Vanetta knew natural curl and color. Lisa didn't color her hair, and the few strands of silver in with the blonde helped determine her age, as did the laugh lines around her eyes.

Lisa Greenwood was in fact 39. Old enough and experienced enough to handle the magazine she published to the satisfaction of the owners, ambitious and open-minded enough to make the magazine pay well, and with the desire to see it grow.

As they exchanged more pleasantries, Vanetta paused to wonder how Lisa had known her, then realized that her limo driver had probably filled Lisa in on all the details of their ride. Gambling on her intuition, Vanetta asked if Ted had described her accurately, which caused Lisa to laugh. "Actually, he said I should just look for brightest and prettiest smile. He was quite smitten with you and said he wished all his passengers were as pleasant and interesting."

A waiter interrupted them, and Lisa asked Vanetta if she liked salmon as the Roof Garden had a delicious salmon soufflé that melted in your mouth. When Vanetta agreed, Lisa ordered for them, obviously from memory, and asked if Vanetta would like another drink. Vanetta declined graciously, saying she would reserve the drinking for later in the evening and just asked for another Perrier. Lisa asked for a glass of house white, and turned her attention back to Vanetta.

"I can't stress enough in telling you how happy I am that you didn't just hang up the phone when you first called," said Lisa. "Your proposal sounded so outlandish to our sales department, but they know better than to turn down anything of potential interest without clearing it with me first. And my having heard of both the photographer and the model, the proposal piqued my interest."

"Quite honestly, Lisa, I was tempted to hang up. I'd had a rough morning of it already with some less open-minded magazines, and Kelly simply refuses to put her name or face next to a product she doesn't use or believe in."

"That was another interesting thing that I discovered after we talked," said Lisa. "Some of these companies taking out ads aren't even distributing their products on the West Coast yet. Some of them don't even distribute to the North American market! Can you imagine the surprise in the sales conference later that day?"

Vanetta knew all too well and remembered talking to the various suppliers of products that Kelly used. Based solely on the strength of the photos and knowing Todd, quite a few had decided to start the process of setting up distribution chains in the US and Canada. It was a chance to expand their markets and the perfect vehicle via which to launch their products. All this, Vanetta explained to Lisa as they dined on a light lunch that was every bit as good as Lisa had promised.

Lisa nodded, took a sip of her wine, and mentioned the jeweler. "I had no idea of how big they were until I researched them. People think of diamonds and they think of DeBeers," she said. "They simply don't realize that these companies only supply rings to jewelry stores."

"Speaking of jewelry," said Vanetta, "I don't see a wedding band on your hand. Is it possible to be the publisher of a pregnancy fitness magazine without a family?"

Lisa paused for just a moment before answering. "I don't have a husband, never have," she said, "but I have been pregnant, and I have a son who is in college now. Or at least he will be in September."

"I'm sorry," said Vanetta, "I didn't mean to pry into your personal life."

Lisa shook her head and rummaged through her bag until she brought out a small framed photo of a good looking young man. "This is Matthew, my son. His father was a professor of marketing and very much married at the time. Still is on both counts last time I heard from him. He tries to see Matthew a few times a year, and I encourage it. A son should know his father."

Vanetta remain silent, neither judging nor looking for reasons, leaving it up to Lisa to continue or drop the subject.

"I had to make a decision," Lisa finally continued. "I could have my baby or not. Obviously, I decided to keep the life inside of me. Then I had to decide whether to finish my education or go to work. I ended up doing both. I wrote ad copy at home at night while nursing Matthew and continued with my schooling. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I am very good at what I do, and promotions came to me quickly. I earned great commissions and paid off all my tuition fees and bought a small house. I took home as much work as I did in the office, so I could spend more time with my son, and then about 10 years ago, I landed the job at Fit. I started out in sales and got promoted to the head of the department in two years. Three years later, I was asked if I would be interested in the publisher's job. The magazine has continued to grow with me as publisher and in a market where most magazines are losing readers, we are growing." Then Lisa smiled a huge smile. "And then one day, one of my sales people tells me they have a crazy woman on the line who wants us to add eight pages a month for a year and a half. I probably would have waved it off if the request had been for four or five pages, but only those in the business really know about the rule of eight, and here we are!"

Vanetta laughed with Lisa. "Personally I don't believe in fate," said Vanetta. "I like to think our destinies are more or less pre-ordained. Maybe some time I'll tell you about how I met Kelly and Todd."

The women had a light dessert, then Lisa took Vanetta by the arm and gave her the quick tour of the Fairmont, showing her where they would all meet for dinner later in the evening. It was coming up on six o'clock when Vanetta and Lisa parted company, promising to meet at nine, and Vanetta had convinced Lisa to bring her son along.

As she sorted through her clothes, picking out something nice for the evening meal, Vanetta realized that life in Charlotte was winding down for the night. She wondered where Bobby was spending the night.

In fact, Bobby was wondering the same thing. He had laughed and eaten with Todd and Kelly and Laura and the girls, accepting the praise for his barbecuing skills, and he'd even shared some good weed with Todd while the girls cleaned up the dishes even though he had protested that he was more than willing to help with the mess. Ami and Cara had insisted, and there had been some mention of Kelly getting her nightly lotion massage, then Todd mysteriously pulled a joint out of nowhere. They had lit it and shared it as the two of them scrubbed the grill down. When the grill was spotless and they had relaxed in two chairs, Ami had brought out two fresh beers.

"Am I getting paranoid because of what we smoked," Bobby asked Todd, "or is everything just a bit too coincidental around here?"

Todd raised his eyes and smiled. "You mean about beer appearing just after we finish some smoke? Nope. It's not paranoia. I'd love to play you on this and say all the women around here are psychic, but the truth, Bobby, is that we don't have any secrets. Ami knew what we were doing, as the other girls did. It's her nature to want to nurture, and that's why she brought us out something to drink. I'd bet she knows exactly how much I've had to drink today and over how many hours. If any of them thought I was exceeding my limits, we would be drinking mineral water right now, which is probably what will come later after Kelly has been taken care of."

Bobby of course was not feeling any of his normal shyness and asked what Todd meant by "Kelly being taken care of."

Todd spent a bit of time explaining how Cara, who would probably turn into a professional physical therapist or masseuse, was oiling Kelly with the special lotion to prevent stretch marks, and how Laura would be right by her side either helping or just chatting. Normally, Ami would either be in helping as well, or asking questions about photography and such, but on a night like this, Ami would be working on a special dessert, another one of her passions.

"Okay," said Bobby, which after a minute caused both men to start laughing.

"I will have to call a cab to take me back to the studio afterwards though," mused Bobby. "I'm in no condition to be driving."

"Hell, why not just sleep on the sofa tonight," said Todd. "We're all going to the same place in the morning anyway."

Bobby seemed to think about it for a few minutes and then said, "Okay," which started both of them on a laughing fit again.

Kelly looked at Laura and smiled. "I'm glad there's none of that alpha male crap going on."

Laura laughed and said, "From the sounds of it, neither is interested in those games. I think it's good for Todd to have another male around to talk to occasionally. Helps to balance out the female presence in his life."

"I think you're right, Sweetheart," Kelly said, "though I haven't heard him complain yet!"

Across town, over a second bottle of red wine at a quaint little Italian restaurant, Annie put down her fork and pushed the last of her dessert away, swearing if she ate one more bite, her dress would split at the seams.

Dave smiled at the thought, and the memory of Annie's naked body. Annie noticed the smile and tried to hide her own. It didn't work, and Dave slid her dessert back to her. "Go on, Annie. I can see you like it, and I'm sure your dress will hold up."

Annie laughed, causing a few stares from the other patrons. "Yes, Captain Walker, I can see where you're hoping that it doesn't. We don't need to ruin a dress for what you have on your mind."

Dave was uncertain how to respond. He had promised to behave like a gentleman, but it had been so long since he had been with a woman, and never one like Annie Prince. She was smart, much smarter than she let on, and was a great conversation partner. Passionately opinionated on some matters, open minded on others, and she didn't babble on, but rather answered or made a statement with a minimum of words - just enough to make her point clearly without expounding or expanding to explain the obvious. Having to speak publicly on a regular basis, Dave hated people who talked too much and said too little. Annie had a way of getting her point across in precise, thought-out words which had made the evening even more interesting. But, he didn't want this to be a single date, and he hesitated on how to answer her statement. It was true that he wanted to ravage her and make wild passionate love to this incredibly exciting woman. Though they were on their second bottle of wine, it had barely been touched, and they had split the first bottle over the course of several hours. Yet, he had to respond.

"Annie, I promised you I would treat you like a lady and that I would behave like a gentleman, and I will hold up to my end of the agreement unless you decide differently. I don't want this to be a one night stand; I've never met anyone as beautiful and exciting and as much fun to be around as you when you let yourself be free. With your permission I will be calling on you as often as I can with the hopes of many more evenings of your company."

Annie's façade dropped for a moment. She had felt a yearning for this man from the time he had proven he was honest and then by taking her to a family run restaurant where they obviously knew him as a regular. A few pointed remarks by the waiters and waitresses and then even the owner and his wife convinced Annie that this was a first for Dave, bringing a woman in. She had watched in amusement as he squirmed through the good-natured ribbing, and then he had finally introduced her as one of the best cooks in Charlotte, adding that they had better serve their best for his date.

And the best it was! Annie allowed the owner to select for them both at Dave's suggestion, and after an appetizer of a light chilled pasta with fresh shrimp, the main course of home made spaghetti appeared at their table on heaping plates. Annie let the delicate mix of seasonings dwell on her tongue and then tried the meatballs, marveling at the taste and wondering what secret ingredients made them so good. Dave had watched her and smiled. The wine was a special blend bottled specifically for the restaurant by a cousin who had a vineyard in California. Not sweet or too dry. The meal took longer than normal as the couple bantered back and forth on subjects that interested them both. Books and the decline of decent television with its rash of 'reality shows.' Neither of them talked business, preferring to discover the personality of each other through shared interests.

Much to Annie's surprise, Dave was a dog lover, though he didn't have one of his own. He was rarely home and felt it wouldn't be fair to leave a dog alone for long periods of time. "When I get a hankering to be around dogs," Dave said, I'll either spend an afternoon at the animal shelter, or if I have time, I'll take a trip up to Raleigh to see my friend, Bob Haines. He's a member of the Triangle Beagle Rescue, which was started a few years ago to find permanent homes for abandoned beagles. Bob's a great guy, and I admire his work. I've walked a few walk-a-thons with him while a beagle pulled me along," Dave laughed at the memories. "Anyway, Bob's been trying to get me set up with a beagle for the longest time, but a beagle is a family dog. Leaving it alone, cooped up in a house all day and a lot of evenings just wouldn't be fair. Bob has this saying he uses for his email tag line. Let me see if I've got it memorized right."

Dave thought for a minute then recited:

"Your dog is your friend, your partner, your defender.

You are his life, his love, his leader.

He will be yours to the last beat of his heart.

You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."

Dave shook his head clearing his own emotions, and with a voice that cracked just a bit, he suggested that Annie could check to see if he got it right by going to the website. www.tribeagles.org

Annie got a bit misty eyed herself. The sentiment expressed exactly how she felt about Bubba. She took a sip of wine to distract her emotions. She had shown him a few too many tonight already.

Dave had been curious about her accent, and Annie swore that she had been born and raised in Tennessee, but as a teen with dreams, had headed off to California to find herself. She had wandered around, following some of the new upcoming bands and lived in a commune for a while, which is where she learned her love of cooking. She had worked in both logging and mining camps for a few years as a cook before the call of social life had returned her to 'normal' people. It had been there that she had met Allen and settled into the life of a business woman. Cooking took a back seat to her business and she rarely got a chance to indulge her passion. But that's where the mixed accent came from, and she was happy to be living her dream.

It was three hours after they arrived that Annie had pushed her dessert away, and now she was openly flirting with Dave, glad that she had listened to Laura about the dress.

Dave signaled for the bill and left a generous tip for the wait staff. Annie understood this. Good service deserved to be rewarded, and the custom of tipping generously had been dwindling in the last decade. She had seen it too often when she catered a meal that required her to hire a few of her old waitresses back for service.

The owner and his wife made a final appearance at their table as they got ready to leave, and the owner was quite anxious to hear Annie's opinion of the meal. Feeling playful, she mentioned the painted golf balls that had been dropped in the Campbell's tomato soup by accident could have been a little more tender, but then added that the store-bought spaghetti noodles were better than she thought they'd be.

The owner's wife laughed as her husband's expression went from astonishment to a lower lip tremble. She said to Annie, "I'm so sorry that the dessert was not to your liking. We try to save a few dollars and we buy day-old pastry from 'A Woman's Place, ' perhaps you have heard of it."

Annie laughed so hard and loud that everyone turned to look at her. Dave was out of his league and knew better than to say anything.

"Mama Rossini," Annie said, "men simply don't understand, but we women do. The meal was delicious, and if I ever figure out what the special ingredient is that you used in the meatballs, I'm going to copy it and use it myself! The pasta was extraordinary and made fresh today. I could tell by the texture and the taste. The meal was exquisite."

The women hugged, and then Annie shook the owner's hand. Momma Rossini stage whispered to Dave, "This lady, she's one of a kind. Just what you need. You let her slip out of your fingers, David, and I will take a wooden spoon to your behind!"

Dave chuckled but realized that Mamma Rossini was right. Annie was one of a kind, and he'd be crazy to let her go.

Vanetta had spent a little time shopping in the hotel tourist shop, picking out a nice black satin windbreaker with the back silk screened "Property of Alcatraz" and a knitted sweater jacket from one of the boutique stores. She wouldn't be cold tonight as she was staying indoors, but tomorrow was bound to be a different story. Knowing she still had over an hour to wait before she met the staff from Fit, she had returned to her room for a nap and left a wake up call with the front desk.