A Getaway by LynnE

Chapter 11

Meg chuckled, "Yes. Trash."

Tom Williams was different from the others. His family's company, out of South Carolina, handled the electrical, heating and air conditioning for the resort. It was the only part of the project that was on time, on budget and up to code. Tom was about 30, rough-hewn, with light brown hair and blue eyes that crinkled with his wide grin. Everyone else at the meeting wore an expensive business suit. Tom was in neatly-pressed jeans with a sport coat and no tie. Meg liked him immediately.

Meg knew that if this project was to be turned around, she'd have to have more people like Tom Williams involved. When they broke for lunch, she caught up with him and invited him to join her. She took him to the Waterloo Inn, where he wound up having to borrow a tie to go into the dining room.

Tom looked around at the elegant surroundings, sparkling crystal, crisp linens, flowers. "Wow! Fancy place."

Meg grinned, "Don't worry, this is a business lunch." She eyed him thoughtfully. "How long have you been here, working this project, almost a year?"

"Yeah." He imitated Meg, unfolding the napkin and putting it in his lap.

"And you've never been here?"

"Nah, I'm a brown bag kinda guy. This is our first big project, I guess I'm not used to the stuff that goes with playing in the majors." He look another appraising look around, and his eyes came back to rest on Meg. "Sure is pretty, though. My girls would like this."

"Your girls?" Meg asked.

"Yeah," he dug into his hip pocket and brought out a wallet. The first picture in it was of three little girls. "The big one, that's Gillian, she's eight. Next to her, in pink, that's Maggie, she's five and a half, and Lissa, she's three."

Meg took the picture and studied it. They were adorable, and she said so. "You must miss them a lot."

"Yeah, I go back for a few days every couple of weeks, but it's been tough. They're at my folks' place."

"You must miss your wife, too?"

Tom pursed his lips; it was a moment before he met Meg's eyes. "She's dead, a car crash. Lissa was six months old." He took back the wallet and put it away.

Meg searched for something to say, but the waiter interrupted. After they'd given their orders, Meg spoke. "I'm so sorry." She made a helpless gesture. That news spoiled her plans, she couldn't make the offer now.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about? I mean, I already told you about my end of the project, we're okay, or we would be if the others would hold up their part of the deal." He looked at her inquiringly.

"Now that I know more about you, I'm not sure it would be fair to ask."

Tom said nothing, waiting.

"Look," she went on, "I'm going to tell you what I had in mind and please tell me whether you honestly think it's a good idea or not. I promise it won't be a problem either way."

"Go ahead."

"Well, since yours is the only part of this project that's being done right, I had thought of asking you to become general supervising contractor. Your work, including the paperwork, has been impeccable. It would mean a lot more work, but for a lot more money." Meg sighed. "But it would also mean being here round the clock, and that's not fair to those girls, is it?"

Tom's answer came slowly. "Ever since I joined my Dad in the business, I've been trying to make our outfit more than a mom and pop deal. We bid low to get this project because we needed a big one to prove ourselves, to ourselves and the rest of the world. What you're proposing would be a huge step up for us. As for me personally, well, that's not your call to make, is it?"

"Please," I didn't mean to be nosy. I was only trying to…"

Tom interrupted, "I realize that, and I appreciate it. But it's my call, right?"

"Right."

"Let me think on it until tomorrow?"

"Sure," she replied

They went back to their meal and the talk turned to baseball and the prospects for the pennant races in the coming season. Meg found herself having a wonderful time.

* * * * * * *


Ben Evans called the hotel six times that day. Without success.

Chapter 12

The next meeting of the Liberty Corporation's principals occurred at eight the following morning. Gregory and Ben were there, along with A. J. Deschanel. Carol, Gregory's secretary, was taking notes.

Gregory handed them copies of the report on the Bermuda project, overnighted from Meg. He had already read it, but he waited a few minutes, sipping coffee, while the others digested what Meg had to say.

"Very impressive, I must say," concluded A. J. Ben said nothing.

"Yes, indeed, I'm very proud of her," Gregory bragged. "Meg has been a godsend, hasn't she, Ben?"

Ben ignored the question, saying only "Straightening out this project could take months."

Gregory demurred. "Oh I hardly think so. Meg has isolated the problems and is about to bring in a new general contractor. She has her eye on Tom Williams, a real comer. Meg was certainly impressed. A young fellow, too. It's his first major project. It's good to have fresh blood."

A. J. asked, "Have you met this Tom Williams?"

"Indeed I have, a young widower, only 30 or so. Very serious, a hard worker, no nonsense about him. That's why I decided to take a chance with him as heating and A/C contractor." He added maliciously, "Rather good looking in a rough sort of way, as I recall."

Ben swore under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Gregory asked innocently.

"Nothing at all, Gregory." Ben replied.

"Very well, let's proceed to the rest of the agenda."

Ben paid scant attention to the rest of the meeting. It had been two days since he'd spoken to Meg. Two miserable days. He went about his business, played with his son, squabbled with his wife and ached for the woman he loved.

* * * * * * *


He was making no progress in getting his divorce. Every time he brought it up, Maria had an objection, usually based on something to do with Benjy. Ben was sick of it, and he said so, "You seem to think that you can hold this up endlessly," he accused. "Well it won't work. I'm sorry if you are having trouble dealing with this, but I know what I want." Or rather who, he thought.

"What you're doing is wrong," he went on. "You are making Meg miserable. You are making me miserable, and frankly, you don't look at all happy either." Ben sighed, "Maria, Benjy will adapt. He's not the first child to have his parents divorce, you know."

Maria started to answer, but paused when Benjy skipped in. He had a paper airplane in his hand.

"Daddy, this won't fly, can you fix it?" Benjy asked.

"Well it can't fly because it isn't folded very well. Let's see what we can do." He unfolded the paper. On it, in Tess' handwriting, were the words "Meg: Roseden Hotel, Hamilton, Bermuda, White Rose Suite," and below, a phone number.

"Benjy," Ben asked thoughtfully, "where did you get this airplane? Did you make it yourself?"

Benjy shook his head and pointed to the wastebasket next to Ben's desk. "It was in there, Daddy."

"I see." Ben took a fresh piece of paper from his desk and fashioned a new airplane for Benjy. The boy thanked him; Ben sent him into the kitchen to look for Tess.

Ben faced Maria. "When I spoke to Tess this morning, she told me she'd left the note with Meg's number by the phone. It wasn't there when I got home. I didn't do this, Tess didn't, Benjy didn't. Whom does that leave, Maria?"

Chapter 13

After lunch, Meg met with the government representatives who managed Bermuda's strict building regulations. She was relieved to find them honest and understanding of the project's woes. They accepted her promises that all would be put to rights soon, and made no objection to the possibility that local firms would be fired and other companies brought in.

Mr. Brough, the deputy minister for tourism development, put it bluntly. "Ms. Cummings, this island lives and dies by its tourist industry. We have nothing to mine and no room for agriculture. Aside from our intelligence, applied to various banking and commercial enterprises, all we have to offer is our beauty and our honesty. The sooner your project is completed, the better, and if that means it has to be taken out of local hands and put into other, worthier, ones, so be it."

Meg murmured her appreciation for their support.

Mr. Brough moved on to a happier subject, "the government is giving a formal dinner and reception day after tomorrow, to celebrate Her Majesty's official birthday. We would be honored if you could join us."

Meg accepted immediately. "I look forward to it, thank you."

The meeting broke up, leaving Meg wondering, what can I wear?

She shook the question off and went back to the office to fire Mr. Hopkins and his firm.

Tom Williams had already recommended a building contractor to replace Hopkins. Boca Associates had done environmentally-sensitive work on several coastal resort projects. Beyond their excellent qualifications, it appealed to Meg that they were a relatively new, minority-owned firm. She wanted a fresh approach. Her conversation with Orlando Boca had been very encouraging.

They'd just come off of a big project in his home country, the Dominican Republic. The Dominican. Meg thought of the day she and Ben were supposed to fly there for his quick divorce. She still hadn't spoken to him.

Odd that it doesn't bother me more, she thought, then shrugged. She was too busy to be lonely. But what about this ball?
Meg closed her eyes for a moment, picturing herself in a long gown, waltzing with a tuxedo-clad Ben. She hummed a bit, swaying to the music. She could feel his arms around her...

The knocking wrenched her out of dreamland. Tom Williams and Orlando Boca were standing in the doorway, grinning. Meg blushed and beckoned them inside. She rose to shake Orlando's hand.

"Congratulations, your bid is accepted. You're the new builder of the Liberty Hamilton resort complex," she said formally.

Orlando beamed and nudged Tom. "Hey," he said, "it'll be great to be a team again."

"It sure will, pal." Tom turned to Meg. "I've thought it over, and I talked to my folks and the girls. I'm gonna take you up on your offer to be general." He extended his hand, "I really appreciate the opportunity, thanks."

Meg was conscious of a little reluctance as she returned his handshake. She hesitated, but Tom was ahead of her.

"My Dad has a project in Georgia that's gonna keep him busy for the next few months, so my Mom is bringing the girls here. School only runs a few more weeks and we're picking up Gillian's assignments. I've got a furnished house rented. This is going down as a big adventure. The four of 'em are tickled pink."

So was Meg. "I'm so relieved. Now we can finally kick this project into gear."

Privately, she thought, now all I need is a dress!

Chapter 14

Meg decided to consult the expert. Of course, Harold Barnhart knew just the place.

"There's a wonderful place, just off Front Street, called Annabelle's. They'll make you something to order. Since you're in a hurry, it may cost a bit more, but I guarantee you'll be happy with the result."

He drove Meg down to the shop, housed in a neat little cottage on a quiet side street. Annabelle Kitchener was six feet tall if she was an inch. She towered over Meg, clucking sympathetically.

"Don't you just hate those last minute invitations?" she sighed. "Of course, it wouldn't do to turn it down. This is a big occasion on the island."

She turned Meg from side to side, handling her like a rag doll. "Hmmm, well you're barely as big as a minute, so it will have to be something simple. Thank goodness you're so pretty, there's nothing we have to compensate for."

She walked abruptly into the back, returning in a few moments with an enormous bolt of fabric. "Imogene," she bellowed over her shoulder, "bring me two short crinolines!"

Another enormous woman appeared out of nowhere, with two huge, crinkly slips. "Satin or chiffon?" she asked, ignoring Meg.

"Neither, give me voile," was the reply. Imogene disappeared upon the word.

"Your sister?" Meg asked weakly.

"Sister-in-law." Came the reply.

She unwrapped the bolt. It was an exquisite stiff satin, a pinky-beige with a pattern of garlands of white roses around pink roses.

"Oh my," said Meg, thrilled. "That's so beautiful."
"Yes, and you'll look a darling in it. I want to make a strapless bodice, heart-shaped in front and even in the back, over a full skirt. With two crinolines, it will be perfect, light and young and so pretty."

Meg nodded her agreement. Annabelle took a number of measurements, jotting and mumbling as she went. Imogene returned with a pair of starched voile crinolines, and a length of pale pink satin. "This would do for a wrap," she asserted.

Annabelle approved, "a good choice." She cut a small square of each and handed them to Meg. "Go find shoes and a little bag, and be back here tomorrow at 4:30. We should be finished by then."

Meg thanked them profusely and left.

Imogene watched her go. "You know," she said, turning to Annabelle, "I have a feeling about that girl, and this dress."

"What feeling?" Annabelle asked, mechanically. She really didn't want to indulge her brother's wife in her habit of making predictions, but they had a lot of work ahead of them and she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

"Something is going to happen when she wears it. Something that can't be avoided, something that will change her life forever. You mark my words, Annabelle," Imogene shook a finger at her, "once the night of that ball is over, that little girl's life will never be the same."

Annabelle sighed, "Let's go to work."

Chapter 15

This day, like the day before, dragged heavily for Ben Evans. He did this or that work, ate his meals, drove here or there, all in a dull funk. Every time he had a moment to think of it, he called Bermuda.

Dinner had been a silent affair. Once he'd discovered Maria's little act of betrayal, it was as if every feeling he'd ever had for her shriveled up and died. It was odd, after all the trials and the arguments, all the strain, all the heart-wrenching grief of the past six years, the simple act of throwing away a piece of paper had finally killed it. Ben no longer gave a damn about Maria. He didn't care if she stayed or went or lived or died. It was over.

Once dinner had ended and everything was cleaned up, Ben took his copy of Forbes upstairs, and, after looking in on Benjy, went to his room. He sat on the divan and tried to read what should have been an interesting article on eco-tourism, but his gaze kept travelling to the picture on the bedside table. It showed him sprawled on the sofa downstairs, Meg in his lap. They were happy and comfortable together then.

Closing his eyes, Ben could feel the same tingle he always felt when she was close to him. He tossed aside the magazine and picked up the phone. He knew the number by heart.

"Hi Tom!" came the familiar voice.

"Meg? It's me." Ben was startled and not at all pleased.

"Oh hi! Finally! How are you Ben?" She SOUNDS happy to hear from me, he thought.

He tried hard to make a joke of it. "Who's this Tom you were expecting?"

"Tom Williams is our general contractor, didn't you see my report? He's brought his daughters over to stay with him. I asked him to call me if he wanted help getting them settled." She laughed, "I guess he doesn't need me. Ben, you should see these little girls, they are so darling. I just love them to bits!"

It struck Ben, painfully; she'd never said anything like that about Benjy.
"How's the weather?" God, that was lame! What's the matter with me? I sound like a kid trying for his first date.

"It's gorgeous. I could stay here forever."

Ben winced. "I gather you've been out a lot."

"Yes I have. Look Ben, I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you, but it's been crazy. I had to fire the general contractor, who was also the building contractor. Didn't you see my report?" she repeated.

Without waiting for his reply, she rushed on, "Tom took over as general and we brought in a great new firm to handling the building, Boca Associates. Now we are looking for a new plumbing outfit. Have you ever heard of Joseph & Whitcomb? Tom likes them."

"Uh, no, Meg, that isn't why I called," he said plaintively. "I miss you."

"Ben, I miss you too. Every time I make a decision I find myself thinking, would Ben agree with this, what would Ben say to that? A dozen times a day I wonder what you would do in the same situation."

Meg didn't mention the reception. She'd persuaded Tom Williams to escort her, though he hated the idea of a dinner jacket. Meg knew Ben would have loved it, but he was far away, with a son to look after.

"Meg, are you still there?"

"Yes, I was waiting for you to say something." This was awful. When had they become so awkward with each other? she wondered.

"How soon do you think you can come home?" The sound of her voice made him hungry for her presence.

Meg felt an odd sense of reluctance. "I don't know yet. I still have some appointments. In a few more days, I guess."

There was another heavy silence as they searched for something more to say to each other.

"Well, I it must be getting late there, and you have a full day tomorrow, no doubt. Good night, Meg. I love you."

"Good night, Ben. I'll call you tomorrow."

He realized that she hadn't said she loved him.

Desperate men take desperate measures. Ben called the airport.

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