Chapter 53: July Fireworks

“Do you have time to talk to Mitt Romney?” Tamara asked as we headed from a conference room to my office in our Dublin building.

Mitt, the former CEO of Bain Capital, had taken over the leadership of the Salt Lake Organizing Committee for the 2002 Winter Olympics following a bribery scandal the prior year. PT Innovations, as one of the larger employers in Park City, had stepped up as a sponsor immediately after his announcement. I recalled just enough history to know they would be successful in turning the efforts around and having a very successful Olympics. I wanted to make sure I gave him whatever support I could but had resisted meeting with him directly or taking an active role in the organization.

“Talk, or meet?” I asked.

“Either, his secretary said.”

“What’s he want?” I glanced at the calendar on my phone. I had fifteen minutes until the next call. “Oh, hell, just connect me to him.”

Two minutes later, he was on my phone.

“Paul Taylor, thank you for getting back to me so soon this morning,” his rich baritone voice said in my ear. He was a fine orator, but obviously didn’t realize it was late afternoon for me.

“What can I do for the Salt Lake Olympic Committee, Mitt?” I asked.

“We’re having some discussions on infrastructure and planning and someone on the team suggested you might be able to help us out.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Not you personally, but your organization. We had the idea to see if you’d be interested in hosting a reunion show of ‘The Interns’ or re-launching for a season or two with a focus on the Olympic preparation efforts. It would be just the sort of thing to get us some top-notch talent as well as some publicity.”

I glanced at the clock and then at my computer. “Mitt, let me talk to my folks here. We’ve got a lot of irons in the fire right now, but some of my production crew might have capacity to take such a project on. I’ll get back to you by Friday, okay?”

“I can’t ask for more than that, Paul. Thanks.”

I ended the call and then briefed Tamara. “Put Jody on it and have her work with Tom and Billy. If they think is has merit, we can do it, but I don’t want it to be a distraction to our other work.”

Jody was at our Park City offices while Tamara and Kevin Tanner were with me in Ireland. Hunter and I were trying to finish redesigning our engine to optimize it for orbital and lunar usage before Lila had her baby. Right now, it was a race to see which came first, the engine or the babe.

“I’ve got it. Hunter said the updated specs were on the server for you. He said the simulation looked good, but that you needed to check it over.”

I nodded and looked for the model. We had managed another reduction in size, getting the engine down to a little over three meters long and only one meter in diameter. The superconductor and magnetic field manipulations we had been able to prototype gave us the ability to significantly throttle down the engine. I really wanted to eliminate the liquid propellant rockets from our OTV design for the landers. Lockheed would not be too happy to lose the contract with us, but I wanted better reliability with less risk before we got too far with our lunar plans.

My review of the engine was interrupted by my phone vibrating. I picked it up and saw a reminder on the screen. It was lucky I had set it.

“Tamara,” I called.

“The car’s downstairs, Paul. You should be fine with traffic. Nicole said she had Ali taken care of.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed a light jacket and headed for the door. I had promised to pick Jer up from his art lesson and take him to a museum exhibit opening this evening at the National Museum of Ireland at Collins Barracks.

Jeremy’s drawings had progressed quite a bit over the past two years. He had always liked sketching things, but the images had turned pretty dark after Jeryl’s death. It was not until he started meeting with his Great Aunt Helen and working through some of his emotions that he had returned to sketching people and landscapes. Not having much of an artistic eye, I had been surprised when his teacher suggested private art lessons last year. He had enjoyed them in Utah and asked to find a local teacher here in Dublin for the summer. At the tender age of almost ten, a local artist had called him ‘quite promising’ and agreed to guide him for the summer, but only if I agreed to visit some of the artistic scenery and venues with him to broaden his exposure to the world. Today was our second weekly outing.

“How are you doing, sport?” I asked as we climbed into the car and started the drive to the museum.

“Good, Dad. We worked on still-life’s with charcoal again today.”

He flipped open his sketch book and showed me a pair of still life drawings. Even I could see the improvement in his work.

“Those look good. You’re really developing an eye for perspective and depth of field,” I said. I had started reading about art and drawing to be able to at least have a conversation with him.

“That’s what Miss Emily said,” he replied.

Miss Emily was his art teacher here.

“How do you like Miss Emily?” I asked.

“She’s great. Did you know that she actually majored in art at school? She spent two years in Paris as well.”

I nodded. “I did know that,” I said; thanks to a full background check on her. “Did you know that she has a painting at the museum we’re going to tonight?”

He nodded. “I’ve got homework. I’m supposed to find it and then find three pieces I think influenced it or were influenced by it. Will you help me?”

I laughed. “I’ll try my best. You know I help with homework if you ask. Of course, I don’t know much about art,” I cautioned.

He shrugged. “It’s okay. All my teachers say art is in the eye of the beholder. You just have to decide what you like.”

We spent nearly two hours looking at the exhibit and doing his ‘homework’. By the time we had seen everything and decided on what pieces were influences on Miss Emily, it was time for a late supper. Our driver was familiar with the city, thankfully and called ahead to get us a table at a local eatery. We had just placed our orders when I heard a familiar voice a couple of tables over.

“Jer, would you like to help me pull a prank on someone?” I asked.

He looked a little shy. “Who?” he asked.

I pointed. “All you have to do is go over and tell her she looks familiar to you.”

“But she doesn’t,” he said.

I thought about trying to explain it to him, and then decided there might be a better way. “Okay, how about you go over and pick the prettiest girl at the table and ask if you can sketch her while you wait for your dinner?”

He pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil. “Why can’t I just sketch that one?” he asked as he pointed toward one of the women sitting in profile to us.

“Okay. Can you do it?”

He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, and concentrated as he started sketching. He had to pause when she moved, but he quickly did a line drawing, and smudged out some lines and then shaded her cheeks and neck. It was fascinating to watch him. He worked rapidly but was not quite finished when the food arrived. He looked from the drawing to his food and then looked a question at me.

“You can finish the drawing, just this time,” I said. We had to make a rule about drawing during meals to make sure he actually ate sometimes. He smiled at me and continued to work.

I chewed a couple of French fries while he worked.

“Okay, it’s done,” he said as he carefully signed his name at the bottom of the page.

As soon as that was done, he grabbed one of the chicken tenders he had ordered and chomped it down. Thirty seconds later, after chewing and swallowing, he looked up again.

“Can I go show her?”

“Of course. I bet they all will want you to draw them after they see it,” I said.

Jeremy scooted back from the table, grabbed his book and walked over to the table of four women with bags piled at their feet beneath the table. The girl he had drawn saw him approach and glanced my way. I smiled.

“Excuse me,” Jer said politely. His voice was still high and sweet, and his dark hair and blue eyes were striking, I knew. The girl smiled down at him. “Could you tell me your name, so I can put it on my drawing of you?” he asked.

The question surprised the girl, but the drawing immediately won her over. The others at the table asked to see it and encouraged their friend.

“I’ll tell you my name,” she finally agreed, “if you tell me yours.”

Jer nodded.

“I’m Jackeline Fay” she said. She spelled it out for him as he added it to the bottom of the sketch.

“Thank you,” he said when he was finished. “I’m Jeremy Taylor.”

Imogene’s head whipped around and spotted me. It was hard to tell what emotions played across her face. She finally settled into a smile.

“Is that your daddy?” Jackeline asked after seeing Imogene’s reaction.

Jer nodded.

“Did he make you come over here?” Imogene asked.

Jer shook his head. “He told me I could draw the prettiest girl I could see while we waited for dinner. Jackeline was the only one I could see in good light, so I drew her.”

The table laughed.

“Would you like to draw me?” Imogene asked.

Jer looked back my way. I wasn’t sure if he was looking for permission, or thinking about his food, so I just shrugged at him.

“Can I do it after dinner? My French fries are probably getting cold,” he said.

They all laughed again, and I missed what Imogene told him before he came back over and sat down. He was three bites into his fries before I could frame a question for him.

“Did they like the drawing?” I finally asked.

He nodded.

“Did they all want you to draw them?”

He kept chewing and nodded again.

“But not until you finish dinner?”

A third nod.

“So that’s why you’re eating instead of talking?”

Again, he nodded. I shook my head and then smiled as Imogene walked up to us.

“Your son is very talented, Mr. Taylor,” she said.

I stood and gave her a hug. “Mr. Taylor my ass,” I said softly. “Please call me Paul,” I added for the benefit of her friends who came over as well.

“It’s good to see you again Imogene. I didn’t realize the ABT was in Dublin.”

“The ABT isn’t. I’m visiting the National Ballet of Ireland for some summer shows. We had a late rehearsal around the corner at the Abbey Theater and came here for a bite afterward.”

“How have you been?” we both asked at the same time. We all laughed. Imogene explained to her friends that we had met in Monaco last summer. A few of them raised their eyebrows, but only smiled. I invited them to join us. They demurred but did invite Jeremy to visit them and draw them at practice some time.

They went back to their table, but I noticed Imogene switched seats, so she could keep an eye on Jeremey and me. They leaned close and chatted, with occasional glances my way. Jer kept eating. When he was about two-thirds complete he paused and took a drink of his water.

“Dad, will you let me go to draw them?” he asked.

“Of course. Maybe we can even have Miss Emily take you if it’s while I’m working. How’s that sound?”

“Good.”

“Do you like sketching them?” I asked.

He nodded. “I have to work fast when they’re moving and talking, which makes it a challenge.”

“You know they are used to holding poses as part of ballet, right?”

He shook his head.

“Well, maybe we’ll have to arrange to go see a performance then.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Chrissy said over the phone.

“Hey, it’s just a favor for a friend who happens to be interested in the project,” I replied. The same team that had worked on the sewing robot several years ago had agreed to let Chrissy join them for a few weeks during her summer break to help build a first-generation construction robot. They coined the term 3D printer themselves.

“Well, I’m glad you do favors for friends like this,” she said.

“How is the rest of your break shaping up?” I asked.

“Really good. I did three shoots since the end of school. I’ll work on this project for the next two weeks and then be flying to Italy for a fashion show and then London for another. Some show producer said he liked my walk.”

“Well that’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re keeping busy.”

“How about you?” she asked.

“I was busy the first ten days in Ireland. Hunter and I managed to get quite a bit done before Lila had her baby. Ian Paul Greenwood is now their primary focus.”

“As it should be,” she interjected.

“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” I countered. She laughed.

“Anyway, since then, I’ve been keeping busy out at the factory fabricating new parts to for the updated design and doing some additional theoretical work.”

“That sounds cool. Any chance a friendly engineering student could get a tour when she’s in that part of the world?” she asked.

“Is that a ‘Daddy’ voice coming out?” I asked back.

“Maybe. But it would be cool to see. I mean, your generators and engines have already changed the world and most students have no idea how they work or how they are made. I’m going to be in London, could I come visit after the show?”

“When is your show?” I asked.

“London is July 8th, a Thursday,” she said.

“How about I arrange a few meetings in London and come back here on the 9th. You can fly back with me.”

“What sort of meetings?” she asked.

I wanted to dance around the answer but decided to just be candid. “Cameron, Billy, and Tom asked me to join them for some studio meetings over there.”

“Cameron? I didn’t realize you were working on a film with her.”

I was surprised she was unaware. I had just assumed someone had mentioned it to her. I told her a little about the project. “We’re in pre-production and need to work through some scheduling for studio space in the U.K.”

“I didn’t think stars did that sort of meetings,” she said.

“Cameron is taking a producer role in the project as well. The actual idea was hers. It was the whole reason she asked Kelly to have me take her to the gala last fall. She wanted to pitch the concept to me.”

“I guess I never knew that,” Chrissy said. Her voice sounded a little contrite.

“Why should you, since we were keeping the project a little under wraps. Anyway, the meetings are scheduled for the week after the fourth,” I said.

“It would be nice to see her again,” Chrissy said.

“Well, it sounds like the start of a plan, then,” I said.

“That was pretty neat, Dad,” Ali said as the dancers left the stage.

Jer and Miss Emily had been invited to a rehearsal of the dancers and then invited back for a dress rehearsal at the Abbey Theater. Ali and I had joined them for the second session. It was sort of like a private preview of the show.

I had been worried that the three hours would be too long for Ali, but she had been mesmerized by the performance.

“So, do you want to take up ballet now?” I asked.

“Nah, but it looks cool. Did you see Jer’s drawing?” she asked as Jer and Miss Emily joined us.

“I saw some, what did you think?”

“It’s really cool that he captured the feeling of motion even without all the detail.”

Jer had captured the significant lines of dancers while in mid-air. Miss Emily had encouraged his impressionistic representations of the dancers in motion. Over the course of the performance, his strokes had gained confidence and flair.

Miss Emily was nodding. “Jer did incredibly well,” she said. “I know artists twice his age that could not do as well.”

Just then Imogene and a few of the other dancers from the first evening came out. They all wanted to see Jer’s work. He was happy to show them. They were all smiles when they identified themselves. Jer was happy.

“How about you, Ali?” Imogene asked as she moved to my side. “Did you enjoy it?”

Ali was suddenly shy and only nodded.

“She was just telling me she wanted to take up ballet,” I teased.

“I did not, Daddy!” she said, coming out of her sudden shell. “You were beautiful,” she said to Imogene.

Imogene beamed. “Thank you. You’re pretty cute yourself,” she said. “If you don’t want to dance, what do you like doing?”

“I fly. Daddy and I got our private pilot’s licenses last year. I’ve got six hundred hours in single engine planes. As soon as I log a thousand, Dad says I can learn dual engine.”

Imogene gave me a surprised look. “That sounds dangerous for a young lady,” she said.

I shrugged. “We’ve had some of the best instructors in the world and make sure all the safety checks and maintenance are done. It’s a lot less dangerous that a lot of other things people do.”

“I also love to sail,” Ali said. “Daddy taught me how to do that years ago. It’s really cool to go out on the trapeze and hike out on a long reach. It can almost feel as good as flying. It’s probably a lot like you feel doing those leaps.”

Imogene laughed. “I’m usually worried about landing, not enjoying the feeling of flying. Leaps can be fun, but only if you land well.”

I smiled at her words. She caught my look and swatted my arm. The kids looked at us, not understanding, but Miss Emily had a knowing look in her eye.

“How about I take Ali and Jer for some ice cream,” Miss Emily asked. She was in her late forties, a grandmotherly sort of lady who had a passion for art and the local countryside. “There is a place a few blocks away, near St. Stephens park.”

I spotted Nicole at the doorway and nodded. “Sure, but please take Nicole with you,” I said.

The other dancers headed back stage or toward the door as the kids left. Imogene stayed with me, looping her arm through mine. She tugged me toward the stage stairs and I followed along willingly.

“It looks like all your hard work is paying off,” I commented as she led me backstage. “You are the principal dancer here, aren’t you?”

She smiled. “Yes, but only for this summer. They know I’m back to New York and the ABT in September. This is viewed as a test and growth opportunity for me. It’s another step on the journey, not a leap to the end,” she said.

“Well, I thought you were magnificent,” I said.

Imogene gave me a tight hug in thanks.

“Do you mind spending a little time with me? I know you want to catch up with your kids,” she said as we entered her dressing room and she started grabbing her things and stuffing them into her dance bag.

“Miss Emily and Nicole will ride herd on them for a bit. If they finish their ice cream before we catch up with them, I’ll get a call.”

Imogene smiled. “We? Is that an invitation?”

“Only if you’re free. I’d like to ask you to dinner,” I said. I surprised myself with the invite.

“Where? I’ve got nothing suitable in my bag today,” she replied.

“We can go casual, or I can pick you up later if that works better. I took the afternoon off, so can make pretty much anything work.”

Imogene finished packing and turned to face me with her bag on her shoulder. We stood about a meter apart. She stepped closer, looking at my face and eyes. I admired her wide blue eyes, and her inviting smile captivated me. She stepped closer and my arms went around her as I bent down to kiss her. She hugged me tight and ran her hands down my back. After a moment, we parted.

“I have to be back to my flat by midnight. I have to have a good night’s sleep before the opening tomorrow. This is too important for me to slack off on it.”

“As you wish, Ma’am,” I said.

She leaned against my chest and then stepped back and took my hand. “I’ve thought about you a lot over the past year,” she said as turned me to the door.

“I’ve thought of you, too,” I admitted.

We were quiet as we walked outside. We turned and walked toward the park a few blocks away. I spotted my driver trailing behind us but said nothing to Imogene who seemed happy to walk. I moved my arm to her shoulder and she snuggled next to me with her arm around my waist. I had forgotten how petite but strong she was.

“You still haven’t told me what you’d like to do for dinner,” I said.

“Something simple. I don’t think I want to go out someplace fancy. It’s been a long day.”

“I know just the thing,” I said.

“What have you been up to, besides continuing to change the world?” she asked. “I saw some things in the tabloids about you dating models and movie stars last fall.”

I chuckled and explained meeting Cameron Diaz and then the fallout from that. I also mentioned how I knew Chrissy and how we had played the media. Imogene laughed at a couple of the anecdotes.

Ali and Jer were surprised to see us walking so closely together but seemed happy to see Imogene with me. Miss Emily stayed with us until the ice cream was finished. She reminded Jer to finish a couple of the drawings she wanted him to work on, and then thanked Imogene for allowing her to see the rehearsal.

Imogene, the kids, Nicole, and I climbed into the Range Rover we were using today. It took about twenty minutes to make our way out of the city to our home.

“Wow,” Imogene said as we pulled into the estate. “I keep forgetting who you are.”

“What do you mean?” Ali asked.

“I was thinking you had an apartment in Ireland, not a country estate. That house is bigger than where I grew up,” she replied.

“It’s not that big,” Ali said. “Our house in Utah is bigger. This only has five bedrooms.”

“In the main house,” Jer added from the back seat.

Imogene looked at me. “The main house?”

“We have three cottages that security and the staff live in and three one-bedroom apartments in the renovated barn,” I said.

Imogene shook her head and then climbed out at the front door. Ali grabbed her hand and took her inside. Jer raced behind while I grabbed her bag and Jer’s sketchbook. Nicole laughed at me carrying things.

“Where are you going to dinner tonight?” she asked.

“I thought we’d just go down to Cassidy’s,” I said. It was the local pub about three miles down the road from the house. While I was never a frequent visitor there, the locals had gotten to know me well enough to treat me like a normal person. We’ll probably head down there around seven,” I added. “Can you make sure you or Jimmy is available to drive. We’ll have to run Imogene back into the city after dinner.”

Nicole nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

I went inside, dropped Jer’s sketchbook on the foyer table, but carried Imogene’s bag upstairs, listening to hushed voices coming from Ali’s bedroom.

“We never spent that much time here,” Ali was saying, “so we don’t have tons of stuff here. Mom always let us keep some clothes here, but Dad had to take us shopping the first week since we had outgrown everything.”

“I like the horses,” Jer added. “Dad’s arranged lessons for us both, but Ali would rather fly.”

“I like the horses, too,” Ali said, “but would rather fly. Dad only lets me go once a week over here. It’s going to take forever to get another four hundred hours at this rate.”

I stepped into the doorway and the kids stopped talking. Imogene was sitting on one end of Ali’s bed with Ali next to her. Jer was standing by the window.

“Hey kids, why don’t you let our guest freshen up. She had a full rehearsal and probably wants to change and clean up before dinner.”

“She’s staying for dinner?” Ali asked.

“No, I’m taking her to dinner. You two will eat here with Mrs. Shannon.”

Their faces fell. “But Dad...” Ali started.

I raised my finger. She knew better than to whine and fell into a pout instead.

Jer just asked, “What are we having tonight?”

Imogene smiled at their reactions.

“Why don’t you run down and ask her?” I said. He moved around me, and I motioned to Imogene. “Would you like to get cleaned up? We’ve got a couple hours before the adults will eat.”

She nodded and stood up.

I showed her to the master suite. “You can take a nice bath in here, if you’d like,” I said while showing her to the bathroom with its large claw foot tub. “Or you can just have a shower. Whichever suits you,” I said.

“A bath sounds divine, but I don’t want to be a poor guest and ignore you or your kids,” she replied.

I reached past her and turned the hot water on. “Relax and unwind. I’d hate for you to not rejuvenate and be ready for tomorrow’s premier. Trust me, I get being focused on a goal.”

She smiled and kissed me. “It’s easy to forget that you are a very nice man,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

She felt the water temp and then turned on the cold water and dropped the stopper into the drain before answering.

“You’re a private person. Most people only see what is reported on TV or in the paper. They aren’t always complete pictures of you. I mean, nobody in the wider world knows how much you love your kids. Nobody really knows how hard you work. I hardly understand that. From what I’ve read about you, you jet around the world and spend a lot of money, which would make most people assume you’re just a rich asshole. You’re not.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

“I’m a little of the same,” she said as she bent over and pulled off her shoes. “People see me on stage, dancing, and forget about the ten-hour days practicing or the years I’ve put into my craft. I’ve literally been dancing for twenty-three years, and every year is harder. Dancers have a limited life span to perform. I have to take care of my body.”

She pulled the loose sweatshirt she was wearing over her dance leotard and tights.

“My usual routine,” she continued, “would be to go home, take a bath in a much smaller tub and bathroom, eat dinner and go to bed. I might watch some television but might just put on some music as well.”

She stepped close and hugged me again.

“You understand that I have to be a little selfish to get to my goals. I almost turned you down, assuming you had an evening of debauchery in mind, and instead, you’re giving me a better night off than I could have had on my own. I really value that,” she concluded.

I kissed the top of her head.

“You gave me some much-needed perspective last year. I do understand how important tomorrow is for you. I wouldn’t do a thing to jeopardize that for you.”

“Thanks,” she said. She pulled away and tugged the strap of her leotard over one shoulder, then repeated her move on the other side. Her breasts were as beautiful as I remembered. I watched in fascination as she rolled the leotard down and then pushed it down over her tights.

Her nipples were hard when she straightened. She kissed me again before turning around and rolling the tights down her firm ass and legs. She tested the water once more before standing and turning around, beautiful and confident even when just in her skin.

She kissed me again before stepping back into the tub.

“You’re so good for my ego,” she said with a smirk as she lowered herself into the steaming water. “Now, leave me alone with my naughty thoughts and let me relax and clean up.”

“No invitation to wash your back?” I asked with a leer.

She laughed. “No, because I might not resist your devilish charms. What would your kids think if you fell into the tub with me? Besides, I can’t risk being bow-legged tomorrow.”

I bent over and kissed her before pulling a plush towel out of the cabinet and putting it within easy reach.

“Take as long as you’d like. No one will bother you in here. The kids know it’s off limits for them.”

I closed the door to both the bathroom and the bedroom before going to see what trouble the kids were getting into.

“Thank you for the roses,” Imogene said over the phone.

“I hope the premier went well,” I replied. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.”

“Let me guess, you’ve already provided fusion to Ireland,” she said with a laugh.

“Actually, I had already promised to go flying today with Ali. She wanted to do some cross-country time, so we flew down to Waterford, then over to Killarney, then back to Dublin. We landed about the time you were finishing the first act.”

“That’s sweet. Did you have fun?”

“Actually, I did. I do wish I had been there for your premier, though.”

“What are the kids doing now?” she asked.

“They had best be asleep or pretending to be. It’s after ten o’clock. Why do you ask? Fancy a late dinner?”

“I just got home and cleaned up. I’m sitting here in a bathrobe, not ready to go anywhere. You’ve got to give a girl a little more notice.”

I could hear the pout in her voice.

“Oh? I don’t seem to recall you needing much notice to look ravishing,” I teased. “Do you get any time off this summer?”

“I do. Since this is a summer company, we’ve got a bit better schedule. I’m off tomorrow and Monday and back at it Tuesday with a performance in Cork on Saturday.”

“Would you care to do something tomorrow or Monday? Tomorrow is the 4th of July, not that there will be much of a celebration here for it.”

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