Chapter 3

I ring Rose Ann's doorbell at eight sharp on Monday morning. She answers already dressed and ready for work. "Hi, Randall! Come on into the kitchen and have some breakfast while I tell you what I want done today."

"Thanks, Ma'am, er, Rose Ann, but I had some cereal before I left the house."

"That won't be enough to get you through 'til lunch. At least have some toast and OJ." She obviously thinks I eat recommended portions of cereal.

"Thanks." I sit at the kitchen table as she flits around like a bee in a flower garden, at the same time laying out a list of small 'honey-do' jobs that will definitely burn up a few days. She puts her hand on my left shoulder and leans over my right shoulder to fill my glass and brushes her boob against the side of my face. I like the perfume. I'm pretty sure now that she's teasing me but I'm not so confident that I'm willing to tease back. She's small but intimidating and I really need the job.

Sitting across from me and sipping coffee, she asks, "Have you come up with any ideas about the property?"

"Yeah, a couple but they'd be expensive unless you were planning to donate the property to the city or something."

"I'm not too sure I'd be willing to go that far. What were you thinking?"

"Well, I don't know if you knew I was on the swim team at school."

"I did know that. In fact I recall reading a couple of articles in our local rag about you taking top honors at all the meets. What about it?"

"It's just that the city pool where we practiced and had meets really sucks. It's so old and leaky it should probably be shut down because I'd bet the chlorine is contaminating the ground underneath. I was thinking two or three acres of your property could be made into a big aquatic park with an Olympic-size pool and a nice wading pool for little kids; maybe a playground and some picnic tables as well. But like I said, it'd cost a fortune."

"When I get done with my soon-to-be ex, I'll own a fair chunk of his family fortune. Adultery can be very expensive when you're indiscrete and a moron to boot. Besides, I'll bet if we put our minds to it, we could probably enlist quite a few partners in a project like that. Very good, Randall! I think that's a wonderful idea! Tell you what; you see if you can come up with a few designs and I'll start dropping hints to some of my friends."

She glances at her watch and says, "Oh, I'm running late! If you need anything, call me at the office. You'll find the number next to the phone. See you later, sweetie!" She actually kisses me on the cheek as she heads out to the garage but stops in the doorway. "By the way, Mr. Hightower will probably come by today to pick up some personal stuff. If you have to leave the property, be sure to lock up. Oh," she says, digging into her purse, "Here's an extra key. Just keep it as long as you're working here. Seeya!"

Late in the morning, I'm on my hands and knees weeding the flowers that grow all along both sides of the long driveway. I hear a car and look up to see a very nice silver Mercedes sedan pulling up to the garage. A somewhat overweight man in his fifties dressed in jeans and a polo shirt gets out and walks over to me.

"I see the lawn finally got mowed. Not a bad job but you really should crosscut it." He holds out his hand and introduces himself, "I'm George Hightower. And you are... ?"

I shake his clean, manicured hand with my filthy one and answer, "Randy McPeak. Pleased to meet you, Sir. Mrs. Hightower said you'd be by."

"Yeah, I just need to pick up a few things. Has she burdened you with the tale of our domestic issues?"

"Um, no Sir," I lied, "She hasn't mentioned it. It wouldn't be any of my business, anyway."

"That's right, Randy. It wouldn't be, would it? Well, I guess you'd better be getting on with your work. Be careful around those roses, they're very expensive hybrids." Everything about his facial expressions and his body language says he thinks he's doing you a big favor by even talking to you. As he turns and walks toward the house, I think to myself, 'What an asshole!'