Chapter 5: Saint Louis

I'd been embarrassed before when a tennis ball popped open in public, but it had never happened on an airplane. Suddenly, I was confronted by fellow passengers; a call for help from an older lady across the aisle; a child's scream from the row of seats behind me, and a flight attendant's inquisitive eyes as she investigated the source of the sound.

I held the limp remains of the tennis ball up for her to see. The cloud made by the powder inside the ball was dissipating, and the remnants looked harmless. Bursting the ball open had surprised me as much as the people around me. I apologized to the flight attendant. She gave me a stern warning not to let it happen again. Her voice was loud enough for the people around me to hear.

"That must be an exciting book you were reading," said the young woman sitting next to the window. Up until that point, we hadn't spoken. She was dressed casually in jeans, loose fitting pullover and sneakers. Her hair was braided. She was by no means plain. In fact, the lack of makeup gave her a genuine, what-you-see-is-what-you-get appearance. She wore a large diamond on her ring finger.

"Not really," I said, laying what was left of the ball in the empty seat between us, and holding up the book, Challenging the Cycle, up for her to read the title.

My seatmate squinted at the title, and with a questioning look, "Is it about cycling?"

"It's a discussion of economic cycles. The author claims he can predict cycles. It's an extra-reading assignment for one of my courses," I said, refraining from telling her the entire story. I'd found a reference in Shirley's notes to another book, and when I looked for it in the school library, I discovered the one I'd brought with me. It was new, but on the same subject Shirley had referenced.

"May I see that?" she asked.

I noted the page I was on, 73, and handed the book to her. She turned it over and looked at the author's photo on the dust jacket. "I know David, but I didn't know he was actually going to publish this crap," she said, blushing when she realized how she'd referred to 'David's work.

I waited while she leafed through the book, pausing to check a formula or to read a passage. She closed the book and looked at me, still not handing it back to me. "What course is this for? I haven't seen you around the campus, have I?"

"Applied Business Theories is the name of the course. This is not the text for the course. I found it in the library, and thought it worth studying," I said, looking at how she was holding the book, and wondering when she was going to return it to me.

"Applied Business Theories," she repeated the name of the course, and then, "You must be across the river?"

"I'm a senior at Pontiac College," I said, indignantly.

If she knew that her remark, 'you must be across the river', had offended me, Patricia Snodgrass never hinted that she'd noticed. For the next hour, she found out my name, that I lived above the dress shop, and that I was practically engaged to Kelley Harvey.

I found out that she was a native of Saint Louis, had received her undergraduate degree two years ago, and had chosen the graduate school at Pontiac because of its reputation.

"What did you do while you were out of school?" I asked.

"I worked as a stock broker's assistant. That's where I met Kenny," she said, rolling the diamond on her ring finger, three hundred and sixty degrees. "He's a broker."

"What made you return to school?" I asked. She still had my book so I couldn't read. And anyway, I enjoyed hearing her talk.

"Peer pressure," she said, holding my book for me to see the photo of the smiling author. Somehow, I decided that 'David' was more than a friend to her. "I didn't like being an assistant."

At this point, we'd raised the arm rests, and we were talking quietly so as not to disturb the other passengers around us. I had my left knee resting on the center seat, next to the ruined tennis ball. Her right knee was practically touching mine.

"That's understandable," I said, and watched her lower her eyes for a moment, contemplatively.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, abruptly, like she was already forming a second question.

"I don't know. Kelley made the arrangements," I answered.

Her head was resting on the back of her seat. Her eyes darted to where our knees were two inches from one another, and back to look me in the eye. "When are you going back?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. The flight is at three-fifteen, I believe," I said.

"I'm taking that flight. Perhaps we can sit together?" she said, wrinkling her brow, reminding me of Shirley for a second.

"Sure," I said, and watched as she searched a small purse for a notebook and pen.

"Here," she said, handing me a sheet of paper from the notebook. "Call me if you change your plans."

I looked at the paper: her name was followed by her Saint Louis phone number; there was also a school number. I folded the paper, put it in my pocket, and told her that I would call.

"Would you mind if I borrow your book, just until tomorrow?" she asked. I told her it would be okay. I knew by the way she was clutching it that I wouldn't get a chance to read it while we were in the air, and I didn't intend to read anything while I was with Kelley.

I hadn't noticed how tall she was until we were getting our carry-on luggage out of the overhead. She had to be five-ten. As I followed her up the aisle, I saw that the single braid extended down to her waist. She matched me stride-for-stride as we walked through the airport. "There he is," she said, pointing to a man with a dark beard.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Patricia," I said, veering off to the left as we approached her fiancé.

"Sammy, wait! We'll give you a lift. Anyway, I want you to meet Kenny."

I watched her throw her arms around Kenny's neck, and stoop down to kiss him. He wasn't that much shorter, perhaps an inch or two, but the way she had to cock her head to kiss him looked awkward to me.

Patricia introduced us, and we shook hands. The beard was dark, and he wore small glasses with metal frames. He was friendly, and looked successful.

"We're going to drop Sammy off on our way to my house," Patricia informed her fiancé, but when she gave him the address of the mall, Kenny said it was miles out of the way for them.

An argument ensued, and I tried to settle it by saying I'd take a cab to the mall. Patricia still put up a fuss until I insisted, shaking Kenny's hand again and telling Patricia that I would see her on the flight back to school.

We walked out together, and to the casual observer, one would have thought Patricia was with me. She handed Kenny her carry-on and took my arm. "I'll read your book tomorrow morning," she whispered in my ear. Her lips were so close that I felt them touch my cheek. It was then that I noticed that I hadn't seen the book since we'd left the plane. Had she put it in her carry-on because she didn't want Kenny to see it?

We said goodbye at the door, agreeing to meet at the waiting area the next day, and I found a taxi. If the driver thought it strange that I was going to a shopping mall, he didn't disclose his surprise.

I found Kelley, Linda Gander, Betty Argil and Kerri, the Harvey Company employee, in the Mall offices. I could tell by the way Kelley approached me that I was not to kiss her hello. She was wearing a dress that I hadn't seen before. It was basically white, with a pattern of lavender leafs, extending below to the knees, with buttons down the front and long sleeves. Her jewelry, a necklace and earrings, matched the lavender leafs. Her shoes were white. As she handed me the necktie, I noticed that her hair had grown considerably in the two weeks and two days we'd been apart.

"You can use Kerri's office to put this on," she said.

"Don't make him wear the tie," Linda said and Betty agreed, reminding us that it was Saturday.

Whose orders should I follow? Linda was the client, but Kelley had gone to the trouble to pick out the tie. I'll be damned if I was going into another room to put it on though. I admired the pattern, and put the tie on while the four ladies watched me.

The mall was crowded with shoppers, which Kelley pointed out as we walked to the space.

I was impressed by the professionalism demonstrated by Linda Gander. She had blueprints and photos of their retail outlets in other locations. Betty asked me to hold one end of a tape measure so she could verify the square footage of the space. When a question arose that we couldn't answer, Kerri called the maintenance supervisor, who verified that there was sufficient power in place to light their sign.

It was a quarter before twelve, and I'd been there less than an hour when Linda produced a signed lease. The entire process seemed perfunctory to me. It was obvious that negotiations between the two companies had taken place the week before. I'd gotten up early, dressed the way Kelley had instructed, and not even received a welcome kiss. For what: to hold one end of a tape measure?

Kelley and Linda exchanged signed copies of the lease, and Kelley invited everyone to have lunch with us. "I want to tell you about Seattle," she said. That's when I noticed that she was wearing the wide, silver band on her ring finger.

Linda didn't hesitate to say that she and Betty would be delighted to have lunch with us. "Let's try one of the restaurants in the mall," she suggested. I could tell by Kelley's reaction that it wasn't what she had in mind at all, but she agreed, deferring to Kerri to advise us which restaurant would suit us best.

We had lunch in what was obviously the fanciest restaurant the mall had to offer.

"What is your position at the company, Sammy? Do you have a business card?" Linda asked after we'd placed our orders.

Kelley came to my rescue. "Sammy interned for us last summer. He's back in school now."

Kelley's answer raised more questions than it quelled. Linda recalled a remark I'd made the first time we'd met. "I remember you telling us that in your own business you gave multi-cities tenants special attention. What is your own business, Mr. Oldham?"

I would have crawled under the table if I could have. Linda Gander had effectively caught Kelley fabricating an untruth. "Sammy's..." she began before I put my hand on her thigh, just above the knee, and moved it upward, stopping her in mid sentence.

"You're incredibly perceptive, and your memory is accurate, Ms. Gander. When I referred to my own business, I was really talking about the company my Dad runs. Thirty-four percent of our tenants lease space in more than one city. That's not to say that it represents thirty-four percent of our space, but we do give preferential treatment to those tenants," I said, hoping that my explanation would answer her question. It didn't.

I felt Kelley's hand on top of mine, patting it softly.

"May I ask the name of the company your Dad runs?" Linda asked.

"It's the Oldham Companies. We're mainly in office space," I answered, hoping to close the subject.

Linda showed no recognition of the name, which was just as well as far as I was concerned. But I could tell by her facial expression, and by the way her eyes were shifting, that she had another question. "If your father heads a real estate firm, why would you intern in the Harvey Company?"

Again, Kelley started to speak, but she stopped when I moved my hand on her thigh. "I've worked in my Dad's company for the past seven summers. We decided it would be good for me to get some exposure in a different market. Last summer, Ms. Harvey and I visited several cities where both firms are represented. We both profited by the experiences," I said, patting Kelley's thigh.

Our orders arrived and Linda waited until our meals had been served to launch her next salvo. "Does your father's company have buildings in St. Louis?" Linda asked.

I looked at Kelley, whose mouth was open, aghast. I smiled and patted her thigh. "It looks like we've been found out, honey." And then, to Linda, "That trip was an exception."

Ms. Gander looked pleased with herself. "It sounds to me like the internship was a ruse, an excuse to travel together. Does your husband know about Sammy, Ms. Harvey?"

Kelley twisted the silver band on her ring finger. "I'm not married, and besides, that was a day trip. We didn't stay overnight."

I had a feeling that Linda was not going to let up until she'd had her fun. I decided to turn the tables, and preempt her fun with some of my own. "Lighten up, Kelley. You've got the signed lease in your pocket. We didn't sleep together on that trip, but we're going to share a hotel room tonight. Kelley wears the ring to fool desk clerks into believing we're married."

Linda laughed openly, Betty smiled, knowingly, and Kerri lowered her eyes.

"How many trips did you two take together?" Linda asked.

Kelley quickly caught on; my admitting that we slept together had piqued the ladies' interest. She looked at me before responding. I took a bite out of my sandwich and let her talk.

"We went to Denver and to Seattle, twice. I have pictures," she said, turning what could have been an awkward moment into a sales pitch. In addition to some pictures we'd taken in Denver, Kelley produced the groundbreaking ceremony photograph where we wore hardhats and scooped dirt from the crusty earth with chrome plated shovels.

Betty and Kerri admired the pictures, but Linda was skeptical. "You only went on three trips together? From the way Sammy talked, I thought you were involved in an all-out romance."

Kelley had attempted to portray our relationship as strictly business, and it backfired. Suddenly, she found a need to prove that our bond was intense.

"We are," Kelley said, looking my way when her declaration fell on deaf ears.

"Try your salad, honey," I said. What difference did it make if the tenant's representatives believed our romance was real? As far as I was concerned, it was none of their fucking business. Kelley didn't see it that way.

"Sammy's had his hand on my thigh ever since we sat down. He's making me so hot that I've lost my appetite. We've been sleeping together since we went to Florida last March, and ... and we're very much in love."

Linda put down her fork and looked at Kelley. "I believe you, Ms. Harvey. But really, only three trips last summer doesn't sound like a torrid affair to me."

Kelley gave me a look of desperation, as if to ask how much more she should say. I shrugged my shoulders, giving her the green light to tell as much as she wanted about our love life.

"Sammy traveled every other week last summer. Other than the trips when he was away, we slept together every night. Now that school has started we plan to spend every other weekend together, either at home or at his school. Does that answer your question, Ms. Gander?"

It was obvious that Betty and Kerri were convinced that we were a loving couple, completely devoted to each other. But Linda put her fork down for the second time and raised one eyebrow.

To me, these were sure signs that she wanted to humiliate Kelley, and I didn't like the way she was treating my girlfriend. Either Linda Gander had had a rotten marriage and was envious of our serene liaison or she enjoyed intimidation.

I made a mental note to read ahead in my Psychology 101 text, and spoke before thinking. "You forgot to mention our two camping trips, honey. Have you ever fucked on an air mattress, and eaten fish for breakfast, Ms. Gander?"

While Linda didn't answer my question, she didn't cover her ears either. Instead, she turned to Kelley. "When is the Seattle mall scheduled to open? Do you have a floor plan?"

Kelley went into sales mode, producing conceptual drawings of the finished product, a floor plan, and pointing out which spaces were still available.