CALIFORNIA PARADISE
Chapter Ten
The Dawson California Mansion was definitely
a sight to see. After a couple of days stay, the men had decided that a bit of
redecorating was in order. An immature but laughable NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign
was taped to every door in the house--quite hilarious on hand-crafted oak,
French, and rainbow glass doors--Jack’s office was now equipped with a couch
instead of an office chair, and the bathrooms were all labeled with BOYS’
ROOM signs. On top of all this, the house was constantly thronged with old
friends, new acquaintances, and any male that was looking for some fun.
When Rich caught sight of Jack with a guilty
look on his face after the who can make their beer bottle spray the farthest
contest, he clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Come on. This was
the girls’ idea. If they didn’t want us to act so--well, guyish, as they call
it, then they would have never left us alone for a week. Besides, they’re
probably doing things just as crazy and stupid."
*****
All the way across the country, past
mountains and lakes, rivers and trees, Rose Dawson sat perched on a windowsill,
staring out into the open expanse in front of her. All around, people were
drinking, eating, laughing, and having fun. There was a thunderous roar from
downstairs as the party really started to get wild. This was just the
processional into the real party, and it was already giving her a headache.
Jolene Myers came up the stairs. She was
wearing a tight, light blue beaded dress and she had, at one point, kicked her
shoes off, because she was only wearing her stockings. She regarded Rose
critically.
"You don’t look so good. Do you want me
to take you to one of the rooms? I’m sure the hotel manager won’t mind."
Rose slowly shook her head.
Anna Levine came up behind Jolene. "Yes,
she is sick, but rest isn’t going to help." She sat down next to Rose.
"You agreed that this was a good idea. You’re going to see Jack in less
than a week, and you can spend the rest of your lives together, but right now
you’re supposed to be having fun. This is our week. Don’t even think about
Jack."
Rose smiled. "I’ll give it a try."
*****
That Wednesday, Jack’s servants arrived at
the new house.
"Servants." Jack laughed to
himself. "If someone had told me that a crew of butlers and maids would be
waiting on me hand and foot five years ago, I would have told them to get to
the nearest mental institution as soon as possible."
George Malonintenes, his blond hair smoothly
slicked back and his thin nose proudly in the air, stepped forward. "I’m
George. I’ve been selected as your butler."
Sheryl Farnester, her curly hair in a loose
bun, Melannis Crossenter, her eyes warm and gentle, and Curly Shanontis,
slightly older than everyone else but with a pleasant smile, stepped forward.
"We’ve all been selected as maids."
Phillip Dondagregas, spatula in hand,
extended his hand as he introduced himself. "Phillip Dondagregas. It’s
quite a mouthful. so most people just call me Phil. I’ll be serving your food
part time, and your wife has already worked out a schedule."
Donald and Dallas Ferguson stepped forward.
"We come by every Tuesday and Friday to take care of the garden."
Jack smiled, still looking amazed.
"Well, what can I say? I would give you a proper tour, but I barely know
the way myself. Welcome to the Dawson Mansion. Make yourselves at home!"
*****
Jack stared at the work layout set before
him. With the prompting of Rose over the phone, he had decided to start one of
the biggest deals of the year that day. He looked the project over. Rich, eager
to help, was smiling brightly across the desk.
"Okay. What’s the deal?" Rich
asked.
"The owner of a house wants another room
built on, and he wants people who are the best in the business to decide where
the expansion should go, how it should be set up, and all that. Anyway, I was
given the project because it involves a lot of one-on-one discussions and stuff
like that, and the house is really close to here. We would be neighbors if
there weren’t about a hundred thousand miles between each house!"
"What’s the owner’s name? Maybe we know
them," Rich suggested.
"I don’t know. Let me check..."
Jack scanned through all of the documents.
His blood ran cold as he looked at the name
staring back at him: Hockley, Caledon.