A Fine Mess

Chapter 5

Peter Delacourte beckoned the bartender over and pointed to the woman at the far end of the bar, sliding a large bill under his waiting fingers. A few moments later he lifted his glass and smiled back as she held her surprise drink up in thanks. She sipped from the glass then gathered her purse and moved with an affected stroll down next to Peter. "Do you buy drinks for everyone?" She asked, fishing for a compliment as she slid onto the stool and leaned forward to fully display her ample cleavage. Peter obliged and toasted her, running a professional eye over the merchandise.

He took in the slightly thick waist and the excessive makeup, deciding she was probably a disappointed wife or the office fallback, spending lonely nights sucking back martinis and searching for rainbow dreams.

"I hope you don't think I'm the kind of woman that can be seduced with a free drink." She nudged his leg with her knee and sipped some more while watching him over the rim.

•••

He ran a comb through his damp hair and then shoved it into his back pocket, fastening the top button of his shirt and sliding his tie up snugly. In the dresser mirror he could see her watching him carefully. One eye, partially covered by her tousled hair along with one extra large breast, spied on him from over the edge of the sheet.

"Is that it? You're leaving?"

"What else is there, sweetheart? I don't think we want to sit around talking politics do we?"

"A drink and a quick bang and you're gone." She threw back the sheet and rolled off the bed, padding her way to the bathroom.

Her heard a distinct sniffle and pulled a face at the thought of her crying. "There's some money under the room key," he called. Then he grabbed his jacket and left, shrugging it on as he headed back down to the bar to try another troll.

The chime of his cell phone interrupted his fresh drink and he carried his glass to a quiet booth while he answered, appraising the legs of the redhead sitting alone on the same stool his previous catch had used.

"Out on the town again, Peter?"

"Miriam, what a surprise. Just a well earned drink before heading home." He frowned as he realized the time and cursed himself silently as the line stayed silent for a few moments. "So aah, what's new, is anything wrong? I don't think you've ever called me before?"

"Must have been your naughty comments the other night."

Peter swung his legs under the table, redhead forgotten. "Only naughty if you accept them that way." He pictured the trim waist under his hand when they had danced and the fine cheekbones flexing with the sultry smile.

"True... Peter, have you given any thought to what I mentioned about Arnold Chang?"

"What, about him being interested in WesCat?"

"Yes."

He sipped from his glass and tried to determine what she was getting at. "I suppose our firm could do a lot worse than be joined to the likes of Cybrus Corporation."

"How much better might it be if Cybrus bought your firm... outright?"

He snorted and leaned back against the leather booth back, his eyes finding the redhead again. "If wishes were horse, Miriam. Barton would die first." He chuckled and waited but the line was silent. "Miriam?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking. I wouldn't be too sure about Barton or Arnold for that matter; there are ways to do things if you want them badly enough." Now it was Peter's turn to stay silent. "I could arrange for you to meet with Arnold, discretely of course. Secret, if you like."

He cleared his throat and hunched forward again. "In case you aren't aware, Miriam, I am the financial officer and somewhat responsible for the health of our company. Besides, I hold a pathetic five percent of WesCat, hardly what you would call an army large enough to consider a hostile takeover."

"You do have friends, Peter, and who knows what a little of your famous charm might get you with some of the larger shareholders."

"Just why are you taking an interest in this, anyway?"

"I was just curious. Thought it worth a call. You get back to your- whatever and maybe we'll talk again." The line clicked off and Peter continued staring, unfocused, at the redhead's legs, watching as they scissored down to the floor and came toward him with a tauntingly rhythmic sway.

•••

Brian Cathcart toweled off as he headed to the locker room after his squash match. His opponent tagged along behind, pestering him for a rematch the following week. Brian nodded and smiled that he would try and keep the appointment but since his game was at the top already, he really had to pay attention to work. After all, business came first.

The man stopped and muttered an oath to Brian's retreating back. Brian sniffed a laugh and continued on, stopping in front of his locker and stripping off his t-shirt, shorts, shoes and socks, before slap-footing across the cement floor to the showers with his towel wrapped around his waist.

He stood face up into the spray, soaping his hair vigorously and considering his plans for the rest of the evening. The face of Miriam, wearing her inscrutable smile, popped into his head and he cast his thoughts back to the party, weighing them against the rumours of merger talk. If he was smart, he thought, he might head back to the office and crunch some figures just to see what might come of such a move.

He reached out and twisted the water tap off and walked back to the locker room, drying himself. Maybe check out one of the clubs first instead. His cell phone suddenly echoed in the empty locker room and Brian finished buttoning his shirt before answering.

"Did you win your game?"

"It was never in doubt. Scotty can't play worth a damn, still, I get a good workout. So, who is this?"

"I'm crushed, how soon they forget."

"Miriam!" He sat on the bench and struggled his shoe on with one finger as a guide. "This is a surprise." He shook his head and wondered about the possibility of ESP.

"So I've been told."

"Huh?"

"I wondered if you had any further thoughts about our discussion the other night?"

He paused, pinching his forehead between his fingers. "Discussion? I didn't say something out of line, did I?"

Her laughter moved the phone away from his ear. "Heaven's no, not you, Brian... at least not the Brian I think I know. No, it was about the merger rumours."

"Aah, Miriam. I really don't think-" There it was again. Uncanny.

"Perhaps you should, Brian. My little spies tell me that some of your fellow workers are browsing your competition's merchandise."

"Who is? What spies?"

"Sorry, Brian, some things are sacred. I'm telling you because I think you have a huge future with the industry and I wouldn't like to see you left out."

"Left out...? What-?"

"Maybe I misread you, Brian. Perhaps another time. I'll leave you to your squash,"

Brian closed his phone and pulled on his other shoe. What the hell was that about? Misread me? And how did she know where I was? Crunching numbers seemed to suddenly be the prudent thing to do-forget clubbing.