“What’s in this for me?”
Claire stood, “Would you like to join me on the terrace?”
Phil stood. They slowly stepped through the open French doors onto the crowded stone terrace illuminated by large lit torches. The spring air blew warm against their faces, and their attention moved to the magnificent view. San Antonio was before them. Below, the Riverwalk and cypress trees faded into shadows. In front of them, the buildings beamed with artificially induced colorful hues accentuating the wondrous architectural structures. Claire continued their conversation. “It’s a beautiful city. I think it would be nice to spend four days here.”
Her Cheshire grin infuriated Phil, he repeated, “You haven’t answered my question. Why would I agree to your plan? What’s in it for me?”
She responded ever so coyly, Phil thought he heard the faintest evidence of a southern drawl. He’d read she lived in Atlanta for a few years. “That should be painfully obvious, Mr. Roach.” The word painfully stretched for four or five syllables. “For starters you get to keep your job.”
Phil considered her threat. If she followed through and sent the compromising photos to Mr. Rawlings or the press, he would undoubtedly loose his assignment. “For starters? Are you insinuating there’s another benefit... to me?”
“I’ll allow you to ponder the possibilities.” She lifted the bulbous goblet to her lips intentionally savoring the rich dry liquid. “My ex-husband is a powerful man. I do not believe he would take kindly to you moving in on me, your assignment. I’m not saying that to imply a mutual affection. Rather your mere presence indicates his sense of proprietorship. Not only will these photos imply a relationship between the two of us, but your recent inability to confess your short comings in the area of trailing will support the claim.” Claire gazed out over the Riverwalk. “Mr. Roach, let me be the first to warn you. Lying to Mr. Rawlings is not recommended. That said -- getting caught lying is even worse. My plan will have mutual support and after tomorrow’s photo shoot, substantiating evidence.”
“What are you trying to hide?”
Claire finished her wine and sat the glass on a nearby tray. “My plane leaves before one tomorrow afternoon. Of course, you know that, don’t you?” Phil smiled and she continued, “I’d like your decision regarding my proposal. I need to plan my wardrobe for your photos.”
Phil stood at least six inches taller than Ms. Nichols. He glanced at her feet. The golden sandals had tall heels. He wasn’t sure of how tall but wondered why women chose to walk in such uncomfortable shoes. As his eyes scanned upward settling on her intense emerald eyes, he fought the new feelings he had for Claire Nichols. Contempt and respect were currently contending for first place. How could this petite polished woman so easily reduce him to her accomplice? He leaned down to lower his voice. “For such a beautiful woman who appears deceivingly meek,” She turned toward him, stupid grin still intact. “You really are a bitch.”
“Thank you, Mr. Roach.” She extended her right hand. After only a moment’s hesitation, he accepted. “I’ve had a marvelous teacher. I believe we have a deal, am I correct?”
“Yes, Ms. Nichols, we have a deal. I certainly hope you’ve enjoyed your relaxing stay in San Antonio.”
“Thank you, I have. Oh, Mr. Roach. If you’re considering tampering with the GPS in my rental car, let me save you the trouble. The data’s been permanently deleted. Shall we begin tomorrow with breakfast, let’s say 7:30?”
Phillip thought how helpful that information would have been earlier this evening, before he spent forty five minutes trying to extract recent destinations from the built-in Global Positioning System within her Chrysler 200. There was no question in his mind – he’d seriously underestimated this woman. He wondered if he were the only person to make that mistake. He truly doubted it. “I’ll be lurking in the shadows at 7:30. Forgive me; I don’t want to be included in future photos.”
“Then we’ve never met.” Claire turned to leave then glanced back, “Until tomorrow.”
He nodded and watched her walk away. Her posture exuded confidence, straight spine and slightly raised chin. The backless dress exposed her feminine lean body. A faint white line from a slender bathing suit strap was visible across her tanned back. Below the bare skin, covered with the soft white material was one of the most perfect round behinds he’d ever seen. Watching it sway with just the perfect amount of sultry yet aristocratic movement, he concluded: she does a fine job walking in those shoes. A clandestine four days with her in this five star hotel wouldn’t be a bad tour. Hell, it might even be worth losing his job.
The body of Mr. Roach’s email was short and simple:
Mr. Rawlings, I apologize for the inconvenience and delay. My laptop decided to reject the SD card from my camera. I’m glad to say the kinks have been resolved. As you will see, I have multiple photos of Ms. Nichols from throughout her four day holiday. I honestly expected to see her with someone. However, it seems this was truly a four day get-a-way meant only for her personal rest and revitalization.
I have a return ticket on her plane. We should arrive in San Francisco at approximately 5 PM PST, 7 PM CST. I’ll be available by telephone after that, if you need to reach me. Again, I’ll remain dedicated to this assignment until I learn otherwise. Thank you, Phillip Roach
Tony clicked the attachment. A parade of pictures: Claire eating breakfast, lounging at the pool, at dinner, in a bar… After a fast pass through all fourteen photos, Tony went through them again, slowly digesting the contents. He wondered about San Antonio. Why? Why would she go there? It didn’t make sense. But then again why not? She’d always enjoyed warm weather and sunshine.
Claire stood, “Would you like to join me on the terrace?”
Phil stood. They slowly stepped through the open French doors onto the crowded stone terrace illuminated by large lit torches. The spring air blew warm against their faces, and their attention moved to the magnificent view. San Antonio was before them. Below, the Riverwalk and cypress trees faded into shadows. In front of them, the buildings beamed with artificially induced colorful hues accentuating the wondrous architectural structures. Claire continued their conversation. “It’s a beautiful city. I think it would be nice to spend four days here.”
Her Cheshire grin infuriated Phil, he repeated, “You haven’t answered my question. Why would I agree to your plan? What’s in it for me?”
She responded ever so coyly, Phil thought he heard the faintest evidence of a southern drawl. He’d read she lived in Atlanta for a few years. “That should be painfully obvious, Mr. Roach.” The word painfully stretched for four or five syllables. “For starters you get to keep your job.”
Phil considered her threat. If she followed through and sent the compromising photos to Mr. Rawlings or the press, he would undoubtedly loose his assignment. “For starters? Are you insinuating there’s another benefit... to me?”
“I’ll allow you to ponder the possibilities.” She lifted the bulbous goblet to her lips intentionally savoring the rich dry liquid. “My ex-husband is a powerful man. I do not believe he would take kindly to you moving in on me, your assignment. I’m not saying that to imply a mutual affection. Rather your mere presence indicates his sense of proprietorship. Not only will these photos imply a relationship between the two of us, but your recent inability to confess your short comings in the area of trailing will support the claim.” Claire gazed out over the Riverwalk. “Mr. Roach, let me be the first to warn you. Lying to Mr. Rawlings is not recommended. That said -- getting caught lying is even worse. My plan will have mutual support and after tomorrow’s photo shoot, substantiating evidence.”
“What are you trying to hide?”
Claire finished her wine and sat the glass on a nearby tray. “My plane leaves before one tomorrow afternoon. Of course, you know that, don’t you?” Phil smiled and she continued, “I’d like your decision regarding my proposal. I need to plan my wardrobe for your photos.”
Phil stood at least six inches taller than Ms. Nichols. He glanced at her feet. The golden sandals had tall heels. He wasn’t sure of how tall but wondered why women chose to walk in such uncomfortable shoes. As his eyes scanned upward settling on her intense emerald eyes, he fought the new feelings he had for Claire Nichols. Contempt and respect were currently contending for first place. How could this petite polished woman so easily reduce him to her accomplice? He leaned down to lower his voice. “For such a beautiful woman who appears deceivingly meek,” She turned toward him, stupid grin still intact. “You really are a bitch.”
“Thank you, Mr. Roach.” She extended her right hand. After only a moment’s hesitation, he accepted. “I’ve had a marvelous teacher. I believe we have a deal, am I correct?”
“Yes, Ms. Nichols, we have a deal. I certainly hope you’ve enjoyed your relaxing stay in San Antonio.”
“Thank you, I have. Oh, Mr. Roach. If you’re considering tampering with the GPS in my rental car, let me save you the trouble. The data’s been permanently deleted. Shall we begin tomorrow with breakfast, let’s say 7:30?”
Phillip thought how helpful that information would have been earlier this evening, before he spent forty five minutes trying to extract recent destinations from the built-in Global Positioning System within her Chrysler 200. There was no question in his mind – he’d seriously underestimated this woman. He wondered if he were the only person to make that mistake. He truly doubted it. “I’ll be lurking in the shadows at 7:30. Forgive me; I don’t want to be included in future photos.”
“Then we’ve never met.” Claire turned to leave then glanced back, “Until tomorrow.”
He nodded and watched her walk away. Her posture exuded confidence, straight spine and slightly raised chin. The backless dress exposed her feminine lean body. A faint white line from a slender bathing suit strap was visible across her tanned back. Below the bare skin, covered with the soft white material was one of the most perfect round behinds he’d ever seen. Watching it sway with just the perfect amount of sultry yet aristocratic movement, he concluded: she does a fine job walking in those shoes. A clandestine four days with her in this five star hotel wouldn’t be a bad tour. Hell, it might even be worth losing his job.
The body of Mr. Roach’s email was short and simple:
Mr. Rawlings, I apologize for the inconvenience and delay. My laptop decided to reject the SD card from my camera. I’m glad to say the kinks have been resolved. As you will see, I have multiple photos of Ms. Nichols from throughout her four day holiday. I honestly expected to see her with someone. However, it seems this was truly a four day get-a-way meant only for her personal rest and revitalization.
I have a return ticket on her plane. We should arrive in San Francisco at approximately 5 PM PST, 7 PM CST. I’ll be available by telephone after that, if you need to reach me. Again, I’ll remain dedicated to this assignment until I learn otherwise. Thank you, Phillip Roach
Tony clicked the attachment. A parade of pictures: Claire eating breakfast, lounging at the pool, at dinner, in a bar… After a fast pass through all fourteen photos, Tony went through them again, slowly digesting the contents. He wondered about San Antonio. Why? Why would she go there? It didn’t make sense. But then again why not? She’d always enjoyed warm weather and sunshine.
