Unavailable ~ Chapter 20
Title: Unavailable ~ Chapter 20
Authors: aussie and bugs
Genre: AU, Romance, Drama
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,200
Chapter Summary: As the board meeting nears, all sides work furiously to assure a victory.
A/N: Yes, as rare as a dodo bird, it's a fresh chapter.
~*~
Laird squinted down the bright, dusty street in Loreto, then checked the crumbled paper again. “If I’m reading this map correctly, the local police station and courthouse should be down this way.”
“Yeah?” Saul gave Laird a vague reply. “Forget ‘bout the local authorities. They’ll be corrupt. Let’s get a drink first; help us think.”
“What? We don’t have much time--”
But Saul was already striding off across the street, heading toward a bar that boldly proclaimed to sell the best tequila in Mexico.
~*~
Laura replaced the delicate teacup on its nearly translucent bone china saucer and forced herself to smile back at her Aunt Katherine. That lady had been lecturing Laura for an hour already.
"When you brought that Mexican deckhand around, I thought you'd finally lost what few marbles you had--"
The old tartar had been on this theme for most of the time.
"--Just like Grandpa Jasper who married that Irish maid. Blood will tell!"
The elderly woman paused to stare at Laura's red hair discontentedly.
Useless as she knew it was, considering her aunt's opportune deafness, Laura still had to protest. "Aunt Katherine, please! Bill has always been a perfect gentleman to you--"
"Gentlemen are born, my dear, not made," Katherine said tartly, then blew on her tea.
Laura unclenched her teeth to reply. "Bill is a gentleman. He was born to a landed Spanish family--"
"And where's that land now, child?"
Laura started to explain that she'd visited the ranchero, but then remembered the chickens, and decided not to bring it up.
The old woman clanged a bell she kept within hand's reach at all time, making Laura jump.
An equally elderly maid crept into the dim parlor.
"Claire, this tea is cold!" bellowed Aunt Katherine.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid said but turned and shuffled away without removing the offending teapot.
Taking a deep breath to keep from laughing, Laura plunged back in. "I'm sure you didn't ask me here to berate my choice in husbands--"
Katherine chomped on a crisp cookie with her large dentures, causing crumbs to spray the ruffled front of her black dress, last fashionable in the Gay '90's. "Yes, yes," she said. "Wanted to talk about this board meeting coming up--"
"Oh that," Laura said airily. "You needn't worry. I have the situation in hand."
"Just as you have your husband in hand?" The old woman cackled in triumph at Laura's petulant expression. "A bigamist!" she brayed, getting in another dig.
When Laura didn't bother to respond, Katherine brushed her chest clean and got to her point. "I gave you those shares so that man of yours wouldn't be tied to your purse strings. Now he's tossed them off on his own spawn--not even Roslins."
"Aunt Katherine," Laura gasped. "They are Bill's sons, and thus like my own children!"
"And look how they reward you." The old woman's bushy eyebrows rose.
"How do you know--"
"I have my ways," Katherine said slyly. "But more importantly, we need to get those back, and now. You need every vote."
"Don't worry. We'll have Lee and Zak's votes," Laura said smugly. "We have that all under control."
She rose. "I'm afraid I really must run now, Aunt Katherine." She gave the old woman's wrinkled cheek a quick peck. "Don't worry yourself a bit about the board meeting."
Laura breezed out of the oppressive room before her aunt could protest. The old woman clacked her dentures in aggravation.
Votes were very important to Aunt Katherine. Never married, she'd been a great one for causes, and the woman's vote had been her life's work. She'd thought her niece would follow in her footsteps, and had for the first decades of her life--but then this man appeared, and the girl had never been the same since. Katherine did not trust that Laura was being any wiser than some silly washerwoman, asking her man how to use that precious vote.
After a moment of reflection, Aunt Katherine pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the telephone. Barking the number to the operator, she impatiently drummed her fingers waiting for the call to go through.
She didn't bother with a salutation when it was answered. "It's me," she announced. "I must see you." After a few squawks in reply, she cut him off. "As soon as possible. It's important." She hung up before there could be any more protests.
Katherine wandered to the cluster of photographs grouped atop her dusty old grand piano. She picked up the one of her brother's family. "The things I do for you, Laura," she murmured. Replacing the frame, she adjusted it with a shaking hand. "You're not the only one who's been in love with a rascal, you know."
~*~
"I told you that fella wanted ten pesos for that bottle, not two," lectured Peter.
“I think it had more to do with that sweet senorita being his sister,” Saul grumbled, running his hand over his tender jaw.
“We came down to find out about Don Hernandez and Carolanne, not get drunk and meet women!”
“A bar’s the best place to find out local gossip,” Saul protested.
Outside the cell, one of the guards quickly spat his chewing tobacco out into a spittoon and headed for the door. The senorita at the hacienda would be interested in these gringos.
"Don't see how you can be lookin' at other women anyway," grumbled Peter, slumping on the sagging cot.
"What're you talkin' about?" Saul looked around, and spotting a bucket in the corner, opened his fly.
"Your wife's barely cold--"
His duty finished, Saul rebuttoned his pants. "Hey, that's got nothin' to do with bustin' your nut."
Peter's face screwed up in disgust.
Saul matched his expression. "So you're not doin' that little secretary?"
Laird was on him before Saul could even raise his fists.
"Argh!" Saul protested as Peter pummelled his stomach.
"Don't speak of Mrs. Kowalski that way," panted Peter.
"Hey, hey," gasped Tigh, scrambling away. Grabbing the cell's bars, he dragged himself upright. "So you're not getting laid," he said, returning to his point.
Laird flopped on the cot again, cradling his head in his hands. "How could I even think of such a thing?"
"Listen, I love Ellen, but a man's got needs--"
"Is that what you tell Miss Elosha?" sneered Laird, glaring up with red-rimmed eyes.
"Hey!" growled Saul, knocking Peter off the bed with a blow to the head. "Keep her outta this!"
Rubbing his cheek, Peter staggered to his feet. "Seems like you're tryin' to get into her."
Saul leaned on the bars. "She won't have anything to do with me," he said mournfully.
"As it should be," Peter pointed out. "You can only have one thing, and she's not gonna give it to you."
Both men fell to sit side and side on the cot, nursing their injuries and their hurt hearts. They didn't notice the door opening from the outer room.
A lady in white entered and looked at the two strangers through her hat's veil. Her painted lips twitched. That Carolanne Adams had returned to haunt her from the look of these ruffians.
She cleared her throat delicately, and the men rose at the sight of her.
"Hola," Saul said uncomfortably, rummaging for his limited Spanish. So far it had only gotten him a slug to the head.
She held up a gloved hand to stop him. "I am Blanca Hernandez de Calderon," she said haughtily.
"Say, any relation to that Don Hernandez?" asked Saul, leaning through the bars.
She glared down her nose at him. "Don Hernandez was my father."
"We're looking for any news of a woman who cared for his simple daughter," Laird said.
"Simple!" Senorita Hernandez spat out.
Laird plowed on. "Her name is Carolanne Adams, although she may have used another name."
"I’ve heard of this woman," sneered Blanca. "You are friends of hers?"
"She's the wife of a friend of mine," clarified Saul.
"I see." Senorita Hernandez began to pace. "And she has sent you here for more money?"
"Oh hell no," protested Tigh. He pulled a wad of dollar bills from him pocket. "I got a sawbuck here that's looking for information."
Blanca's smooth brow furrowed.
"I want to know everything that woman was up to while down in these parts," Saul explained.
Senorita Hernandez looked quickly at the guards, damning the fact they knew English. The last thing she wanted was word of her father's disgrace at the grasping hands of that American whore to spread.
"I have no idea of whom you speak." She turned, directing the guards to come with her. Closing the door on the two prisoners' protests, she pulled out her own money from her purse, guaranteed to buy silence for a time.
~*~
Lee hurriedly dragged on a pair of trousers, hopping awkwardly across the living room when they became hooked up on one of his feet in the process.
“I’m coming!” he called out, as his doorbell again echoed throughout the apartment.
After he’d opened the door a crack his mother swept through it, Zak trailing morosely in her wake.
“What took you so long?” Carolanne asked, her nose crinkling with distaste as she looked around the small apartment he’d moved into the night before.
“Mother. What a pleasant surprise,” Lee muttered, buttoning up his pants before quickly shuffling around the room to unobtrusively as possible get between her and the bedroom.
“Why did you move in here?” she demanded. “Go and pack your things. You can move back into Roslin Mansion.”
“What?” Lee squeaked. “I can’t do that. I--”
“I need you to keep an eye on Laura Roslin, and you can hardly do that from here.”
“I’m at the mansion still,” Zak injected.
Carolanne flashed her younger son a bland smile. “Of course you are dear, but you’re not really someone she’ll think of discussing business with.”
“Business?” Lee casually leaned against the bedroom door until it clicked shut. “I’m not sure Laura Roslin would want to discuss business with me either, mother,” he pointed out.
“We can’t rely on Tom Zarek--”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m relying on him,” Lee insisted. “He’s just been very helpful to me when--”
Carolanne cocked an eyebrow and interrupted. “This is his apartment,” she pointed out, glancing around again at the dingy living room. Tom Zarek hadn’t exactly set Lee up in one of his best houses, she decided. Her crackerbox with Bill suddenly looked luxurious.
But perhaps Lee was on the right track. It wouldn’t do to cut ties from Tom completely. Whichever way the board of Roslin Industries voted, she wanted to be assured of a cut. “It might be nice, dear, if you still visited Miss Roslin regularly.”
“I don’t think--”
“Zak’s still living in the mansion, as he said,” she went on as if Lee hadn’t spoken. “And I’m sure Kara wouldn’t mind another young male paying her attention.”
Zak frowned. “I’m not sure what Kara--”
Carolanne cut off Zak. She didn’t want to hear about that silly young blonde. Anyway, her mind was mind made up. “And seeing you and Tom are such good friends, you should take him along,” she added slyly. Yes, it would be an excellent idea to encourage Tom and that Roslin woman to take up. They’d both be occupied...
“I’m not sure Miss Roslin likes Mr Zarek there,” Zak commented, casting a worried look at his older brother over his mother’s shoulder.
“Oh, I’m sure for a woman of Laura Roslin’s loose standards... Tom Zarek would probably be exactly what she needs at this time. Considering your father was such a disappointment in that area.”
Both Tom Zarek and Laura Roslin would pay handsomely to keep Bill Adams out of their lives, she believed.
“There’s only a few more days before the vote. I don’t think you should be wasting this opportunity to ingratiate yourself with Laura Roslin. When she wins we’ll--”
Zak and Lee shared another confused look.
“When she wins?” Lee asked, surprised. “I thought you said we had to stay close to Tom because he was going to win the vote and be running Roslin Industries soon.”
“I know, I know. But circumstances have changed. We need to vote for Laura Roslin now.”
“You want us to vote for Laura Roslin?” Zak asked slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“It was only two days ago that you told us to vote for Tom,” Lee reminded her. “You said that it was the only way to ensure father was out of her life.”
Carolanne carefully placed a handkerchief onto the chair before easing herself into it, trying desperately to ignore the whining tone in her oldest son’s voice.
“Well, I’ve thought through things very carefully, and now I see that the only way your father will be completely free of her is if she has other responsibilities. She won’t have time to pursue your father again if she is completely occupied with her business. If she loses the vote, she’ll have time to scheme her way back into his life.”
“I’m not sure,” Zak murmured. “I think we should just ask dad--”
“You’re sure you want to stay married to father?” Lee cut off his brother. “I mean, you always claimed his temper, his demands--”
Carolanne steadily held Lee’s gaze. He was so like his father; always wanting to know why. Why did she buy those clothes or shoes? Why did she need another drink? She shuddered at some distant memory. She could now at least be assured Bill wouldn’t again be asking why she didn’t want him to touch her.
“Things have changed. His demands have...lessened...”
“Lessened?” Lee asked.
“Yes. It seems that when he was shot, things in that direction have become...damaged... It’s one of the reasons that floozy woman threw him out! Can you imagine!”
“Because dad couldn’t...” Zak never finished his thought, because they’d turned to the rumours he’d heard from the servants, and the time he and Kara burst in on his father in bed with his second wife. “I’m not sure,” he repeated again.
His mother wasn’t listening though. Instead she had moved onto Lee’s appearance.
“It really would be nice if you pulled a shirt on, my dear. Why are you still in bed at this time of the day, anyway?”
Before Lee could answer, the door to his bedroom opened and the whereabouts of his shirt was revealed. A tall blonde woman wore the garment, and nothing else, it would appear.
“Oh hi, you must be Sherry,” Zak said as politely as he could, given the situation and her state of undress.
“Sherry?” The blonde raised an eyebrow in Lee’s direction.
“No, no,” Lee muttered. “This is Virginia.”
“Virginia? You’re one of Sherry’s work friends, dear?” Carolanne asked sarcastically.
“No,” Lee denied. “No, she’s... My wife.”
~*~
Bridgette answered the knocking at the Adams' apartment door, but her face blanched at the sight of her former boyfriend, Enzo. She tried to shut the door, but he was too quick for her.
Shoving through, he slammed the door behind him. "Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?" he sneered at her.
She righted her askew maid's cap. "You get your slimy butt out of here!" she cursed at him.
"Not until we've had a little chat." He glanced around. "A step down from the big house, I see, but it'll do--"
"For what?" she panted, suspicious. Her new mistress would be home soon; she had to get rid of him.
"Makin' money--"
"Money, where're I gonna get money?" protested Bridgette.
"You'll find some way," Enzo said. "I gotta blow town but that's gonna take some coin."
"You'll really leave?" the little maid asked, hopeful.
"Sure, babe," he said, but grabbed her face roughly and kissing her.
She fought to keep from spitting when he pulled away. "But I can't get you that sort of money--"
"You can't?" He raised his dark brows. "I think you can. Just go through the boss's wallet--"
"He's a tugboat captain now. And his wife takes every penny she can get her hands on!"
“A tugboat captain, hey? I might be able to use that somehow,” he muttered, a plan forming. He couldn’t let Bridgette off the hook altogether though.
“Visit your old friends at the mansion and snag something to pawn," he told her ruthlessly. "I gotta have money--Otherwise I'll share some truths with the lady of the manor about your past...Or maybe I'll go to that Zarek fellow with the news that the old goat's not staying away from his second wife. I'm sure he'd be interested to hear that."
Bridgette wavered on her feet, terrified for herself and the Adams. "I'll get it," she finally whispered.
"Good girl." He kissed her again, this time groping her breasts.
She fought free. "You have to go," she pleaded. "Mrs Adams will be home any minute."
"All right, all right," he grumbled, adjusting his stained painter's pants. "I'm down at the Royal on Turk. You can find me in the bar tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow?" gasped the girl.
"Tomorrow," he growled.
Carolanne was making her way through the apartment's front doors--why wasn't there a doorman? It was so difficult to open the heavy glass doors--when a dirty-haired young man pushed past her.
"Well, excuse me!" she raged at his back. Then she realized he was familiar. As she climbed the steps, she remembered seeing him with that maid, Bridgette. Here Carolanne had been looking forward to a relaxing evening alone, with Bill away on his boat. Now it seemed she would have to be keeping an eye out for some greasy Italian boy climbing in the maid's window. The tension was getting to her. It had been a few days since she'd been declared Bill Adams's sole wife and there were only a few more days until that board meeting. The outcome would give her everything she finally wanted; her freedom and the money to pay for it.
~*~
Bill was giving Jake one last pat before stepping onto his tugboat when his deckhand, Hamish, jumped onto the dock from the vessel.
“There a problem?” Bill asked.
“Nope.” Hamish gestured over his shoulder. “I’m apparently not needed on this cruise. The boss sent over a greenhorn to work for you today. Good luck.” He gave a cheeky grin and sauntered down the dock, whistling with the joy of an unexpected day off.
Sighing to himself, Bill went up to the wheelhouse and started the tug's engines. Once they were running smoothly, he peered out the windows for this new deckhand.
A slight figure in a baggy jacket, rolled up dungarees, and a floppy cap pulled down low over his ears huddled against the bulkhead.
"Cast off!" Bill hollered out.
A longshoreman on the dock undid the tug's ropes and tossed them back over the gunwales.
The greenhorn rushed around, trying to catch the heavy lines.
Bill sighed again. It was going to be a long night.
~ end Chapter 20
Authors: aussie and bugs
Genre: AU, Romance, Drama
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,200
Chapter Summary: As the board meeting nears, all sides work furiously to assure a victory.
A/N: Yes, as rare as a dodo bird, it's a fresh chapter.
~*~
Laird squinted down the bright, dusty street in Loreto, then checked the crumbled paper again. “If I’m reading this map correctly, the local police station and courthouse should be down this way.”
“Yeah?” Saul gave Laird a vague reply. “Forget ‘bout the local authorities. They’ll be corrupt. Let’s get a drink first; help us think.”
“What? We don’t have much time--”
But Saul was already striding off across the street, heading toward a bar that boldly proclaimed to sell the best tequila in Mexico.
~*~
Laura replaced the delicate teacup on its nearly translucent bone china saucer and forced herself to smile back at her Aunt Katherine. That lady had been lecturing Laura for an hour already.
"When you brought that Mexican deckhand around, I thought you'd finally lost what few marbles you had--"
The old tartar had been on this theme for most of the time.
"--Just like Grandpa Jasper who married that Irish maid. Blood will tell!"
The elderly woman paused to stare at Laura's red hair discontentedly.
Useless as she knew it was, considering her aunt's opportune deafness, Laura still had to protest. "Aunt Katherine, please! Bill has always been a perfect gentleman to you--"
"Gentlemen are born, my dear, not made," Katherine said tartly, then blew on her tea.
Laura unclenched her teeth to reply. "Bill is a gentleman. He was born to a landed Spanish family--"
"And where's that land now, child?"
Laura started to explain that she'd visited the ranchero, but then remembered the chickens, and decided not to bring it up.
The old woman clanged a bell she kept within hand's reach at all time, making Laura jump.
An equally elderly maid crept into the dim parlor.
"Claire, this tea is cold!" bellowed Aunt Katherine.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid said but turned and shuffled away without removing the offending teapot.
Taking a deep breath to keep from laughing, Laura plunged back in. "I'm sure you didn't ask me here to berate my choice in husbands--"
Katherine chomped on a crisp cookie with her large dentures, causing crumbs to spray the ruffled front of her black dress, last fashionable in the Gay '90's. "Yes, yes," she said. "Wanted to talk about this board meeting coming up--"
"Oh that," Laura said airily. "You needn't worry. I have the situation in hand."
"Just as you have your husband in hand?" The old woman cackled in triumph at Laura's petulant expression. "A bigamist!" she brayed, getting in another dig.
When Laura didn't bother to respond, Katherine brushed her chest clean and got to her point. "I gave you those shares so that man of yours wouldn't be tied to your purse strings. Now he's tossed them off on his own spawn--not even Roslins."
"Aunt Katherine," Laura gasped. "They are Bill's sons, and thus like my own children!"
"And look how they reward you." The old woman's bushy eyebrows rose.
"How do you know--"
"I have my ways," Katherine said slyly. "But more importantly, we need to get those back, and now. You need every vote."
"Don't worry. We'll have Lee and Zak's votes," Laura said smugly. "We have that all under control."
She rose. "I'm afraid I really must run now, Aunt Katherine." She gave the old woman's wrinkled cheek a quick peck. "Don't worry yourself a bit about the board meeting."
Laura breezed out of the oppressive room before her aunt could protest. The old woman clacked her dentures in aggravation.
Votes were very important to Aunt Katherine. Never married, she'd been a great one for causes, and the woman's vote had been her life's work. She'd thought her niece would follow in her footsteps, and had for the first decades of her life--but then this man appeared, and the girl had never been the same since. Katherine did not trust that Laura was being any wiser than some silly washerwoman, asking her man how to use that precious vote.
After a moment of reflection, Aunt Katherine pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the telephone. Barking the number to the operator, she impatiently drummed her fingers waiting for the call to go through.
She didn't bother with a salutation when it was answered. "It's me," she announced. "I must see you." After a few squawks in reply, she cut him off. "As soon as possible. It's important." She hung up before there could be any more protests.
Katherine wandered to the cluster of photographs grouped atop her dusty old grand piano. She picked up the one of her brother's family. "The things I do for you, Laura," she murmured. Replacing the frame, she adjusted it with a shaking hand. "You're not the only one who's been in love with a rascal, you know."
~*~
"I told you that fella wanted ten pesos for that bottle, not two," lectured Peter.
“I think it had more to do with that sweet senorita being his sister,” Saul grumbled, running his hand over his tender jaw.
“We came down to find out about Don Hernandez and Carolanne, not get drunk and meet women!”
“A bar’s the best place to find out local gossip,” Saul protested.
Outside the cell, one of the guards quickly spat his chewing tobacco out into a spittoon and headed for the door. The senorita at the hacienda would be interested in these gringos.
"Don't see how you can be lookin' at other women anyway," grumbled Peter, slumping on the sagging cot.
"What're you talkin' about?" Saul looked around, and spotting a bucket in the corner, opened his fly.
"Your wife's barely cold--"
His duty finished, Saul rebuttoned his pants. "Hey, that's got nothin' to do with bustin' your nut."
Peter's face screwed up in disgust.
Saul matched his expression. "So you're not doin' that little secretary?"
Laird was on him before Saul could even raise his fists.
"Argh!" Saul protested as Peter pummelled his stomach.
"Don't speak of Mrs. Kowalski that way," panted Peter.
"Hey, hey," gasped Tigh, scrambling away. Grabbing the cell's bars, he dragged himself upright. "So you're not getting laid," he said, returning to his point.
Laird flopped on the cot again, cradling his head in his hands. "How could I even think of such a thing?"
"Listen, I love Ellen, but a man's got needs--"
"Is that what you tell Miss Elosha?" sneered Laird, glaring up with red-rimmed eyes.
"Hey!" growled Saul, knocking Peter off the bed with a blow to the head. "Keep her outta this!"
Rubbing his cheek, Peter staggered to his feet. "Seems like you're tryin' to get into her."
Saul leaned on the bars. "She won't have anything to do with me," he said mournfully.
"As it should be," Peter pointed out. "You can only have one thing, and she's not gonna give it to you."
Both men fell to sit side and side on the cot, nursing their injuries and their hurt hearts. They didn't notice the door opening from the outer room.
A lady in white entered and looked at the two strangers through her hat's veil. Her painted lips twitched. That Carolanne Adams had returned to haunt her from the look of these ruffians.
She cleared her throat delicately, and the men rose at the sight of her.
"Hola," Saul said uncomfortably, rummaging for his limited Spanish. So far it had only gotten him a slug to the head.
She held up a gloved hand to stop him. "I am Blanca Hernandez de Calderon," she said haughtily.
"Say, any relation to that Don Hernandez?" asked Saul, leaning through the bars.
She glared down her nose at him. "Don Hernandez was my father."
"We're looking for any news of a woman who cared for his simple daughter," Laird said.
"Simple!" Senorita Hernandez spat out.
Laird plowed on. "Her name is Carolanne Adams, although she may have used another name."
"I’ve heard of this woman," sneered Blanca. "You are friends of hers?"
"She's the wife of a friend of mine," clarified Saul.
"I see." Senorita Hernandez began to pace. "And she has sent you here for more money?"
"Oh hell no," protested Tigh. He pulled a wad of dollar bills from him pocket. "I got a sawbuck here that's looking for information."
Blanca's smooth brow furrowed.
"I want to know everything that woman was up to while down in these parts," Saul explained.
Senorita Hernandez looked quickly at the guards, damning the fact they knew English. The last thing she wanted was word of her father's disgrace at the grasping hands of that American whore to spread.
"I have no idea of whom you speak." She turned, directing the guards to come with her. Closing the door on the two prisoners' protests, she pulled out her own money from her purse, guaranteed to buy silence for a time.
~*~
Lee hurriedly dragged on a pair of trousers, hopping awkwardly across the living room when they became hooked up on one of his feet in the process.
“I’m coming!” he called out, as his doorbell again echoed throughout the apartment.
After he’d opened the door a crack his mother swept through it, Zak trailing morosely in her wake.
“What took you so long?” Carolanne asked, her nose crinkling with distaste as she looked around the small apartment he’d moved into the night before.
“Mother. What a pleasant surprise,” Lee muttered, buttoning up his pants before quickly shuffling around the room to unobtrusively as possible get between her and the bedroom.
“Why did you move in here?” she demanded. “Go and pack your things. You can move back into Roslin Mansion.”
“What?” Lee squeaked. “I can’t do that. I--”
“I need you to keep an eye on Laura Roslin, and you can hardly do that from here.”
“I’m at the mansion still,” Zak injected.
Carolanne flashed her younger son a bland smile. “Of course you are dear, but you’re not really someone she’ll think of discussing business with.”
“Business?” Lee casually leaned against the bedroom door until it clicked shut. “I’m not sure Laura Roslin would want to discuss business with me either, mother,” he pointed out.
“We can’t rely on Tom Zarek--”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m relying on him,” Lee insisted. “He’s just been very helpful to me when--”
Carolanne cocked an eyebrow and interrupted. “This is his apartment,” she pointed out, glancing around again at the dingy living room. Tom Zarek hadn’t exactly set Lee up in one of his best houses, she decided. Her crackerbox with Bill suddenly looked luxurious.
But perhaps Lee was on the right track. It wouldn’t do to cut ties from Tom completely. Whichever way the board of Roslin Industries voted, she wanted to be assured of a cut. “It might be nice, dear, if you still visited Miss Roslin regularly.”
“I don’t think--”
“Zak’s still living in the mansion, as he said,” she went on as if Lee hadn’t spoken. “And I’m sure Kara wouldn’t mind another young male paying her attention.”
Zak frowned. “I’m not sure what Kara--”
Carolanne cut off Zak. She didn’t want to hear about that silly young blonde. Anyway, her mind was mind made up. “And seeing you and Tom are such good friends, you should take him along,” she added slyly. Yes, it would be an excellent idea to encourage Tom and that Roslin woman to take up. They’d both be occupied...
“I’m not sure Miss Roslin likes Mr Zarek there,” Zak commented, casting a worried look at his older brother over his mother’s shoulder.
“Oh, I’m sure for a woman of Laura Roslin’s loose standards... Tom Zarek would probably be exactly what she needs at this time. Considering your father was such a disappointment in that area.”
Both Tom Zarek and Laura Roslin would pay handsomely to keep Bill Adams out of their lives, she believed.
“There’s only a few more days before the vote. I don’t think you should be wasting this opportunity to ingratiate yourself with Laura Roslin. When she wins we’ll--”
Zak and Lee shared another confused look.
“When she wins?” Lee asked, surprised. “I thought you said we had to stay close to Tom because he was going to win the vote and be running Roslin Industries soon.”
“I know, I know. But circumstances have changed. We need to vote for Laura Roslin now.”
“You want us to vote for Laura Roslin?” Zak asked slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“It was only two days ago that you told us to vote for Tom,” Lee reminded her. “You said that it was the only way to ensure father was out of her life.”
Carolanne carefully placed a handkerchief onto the chair before easing herself into it, trying desperately to ignore the whining tone in her oldest son’s voice.
“Well, I’ve thought through things very carefully, and now I see that the only way your father will be completely free of her is if she has other responsibilities. She won’t have time to pursue your father again if she is completely occupied with her business. If she loses the vote, she’ll have time to scheme her way back into his life.”
“I’m not sure,” Zak murmured. “I think we should just ask dad--”
“You’re sure you want to stay married to father?” Lee cut off his brother. “I mean, you always claimed his temper, his demands--”
Carolanne steadily held Lee’s gaze. He was so like his father; always wanting to know why. Why did she buy those clothes or shoes? Why did she need another drink? She shuddered at some distant memory. She could now at least be assured Bill wouldn’t again be asking why she didn’t want him to touch her.
“Things have changed. His demands have...lessened...”
“Lessened?” Lee asked.
“Yes. It seems that when he was shot, things in that direction have become...damaged... It’s one of the reasons that floozy woman threw him out! Can you imagine!”
“Because dad couldn’t...” Zak never finished his thought, because they’d turned to the rumours he’d heard from the servants, and the time he and Kara burst in on his father in bed with his second wife. “I’m not sure,” he repeated again.
His mother wasn’t listening though. Instead she had moved onto Lee’s appearance.
“It really would be nice if you pulled a shirt on, my dear. Why are you still in bed at this time of the day, anyway?”
Before Lee could answer, the door to his bedroom opened and the whereabouts of his shirt was revealed. A tall blonde woman wore the garment, and nothing else, it would appear.
“Oh hi, you must be Sherry,” Zak said as politely as he could, given the situation and her state of undress.
“Sherry?” The blonde raised an eyebrow in Lee’s direction.
“No, no,” Lee muttered. “This is Virginia.”
“Virginia? You’re one of Sherry’s work friends, dear?” Carolanne asked sarcastically.
“No,” Lee denied. “No, she’s... My wife.”
~*~
Bridgette answered the knocking at the Adams' apartment door, but her face blanched at the sight of her former boyfriend, Enzo. She tried to shut the door, but he was too quick for her.
Shoving through, he slammed the door behind him. "Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?" he sneered at her.
She righted her askew maid's cap. "You get your slimy butt out of here!" she cursed at him.
"Not until we've had a little chat." He glanced around. "A step down from the big house, I see, but it'll do--"
"For what?" she panted, suspicious. Her new mistress would be home soon; she had to get rid of him.
"Makin' money--"
"Money, where're I gonna get money?" protested Bridgette.
"You'll find some way," Enzo said. "I gotta blow town but that's gonna take some coin."
"You'll really leave?" the little maid asked, hopeful.
"Sure, babe," he said, but grabbed her face roughly and kissing her.
She fought to keep from spitting when he pulled away. "But I can't get you that sort of money--"
"You can't?" He raised his dark brows. "I think you can. Just go through the boss's wallet--"
"He's a tugboat captain now. And his wife takes every penny she can get her hands on!"
“A tugboat captain, hey? I might be able to use that somehow,” he muttered, a plan forming. He couldn’t let Bridgette off the hook altogether though.
“Visit your old friends at the mansion and snag something to pawn," he told her ruthlessly. "I gotta have money--Otherwise I'll share some truths with the lady of the manor about your past...Or maybe I'll go to that Zarek fellow with the news that the old goat's not staying away from his second wife. I'm sure he'd be interested to hear that."
Bridgette wavered on her feet, terrified for herself and the Adams. "I'll get it," she finally whispered.
"Good girl." He kissed her again, this time groping her breasts.
She fought free. "You have to go," she pleaded. "Mrs Adams will be home any minute."
"All right, all right," he grumbled, adjusting his stained painter's pants. "I'm down at the Royal on Turk. You can find me in the bar tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow?" gasped the girl.
"Tomorrow," he growled.
Carolanne was making her way through the apartment's front doors--why wasn't there a doorman? It was so difficult to open the heavy glass doors--when a dirty-haired young man pushed past her.
"Well, excuse me!" she raged at his back. Then she realized he was familiar. As she climbed the steps, she remembered seeing him with that maid, Bridgette. Here Carolanne had been looking forward to a relaxing evening alone, with Bill away on his boat. Now it seemed she would have to be keeping an eye out for some greasy Italian boy climbing in the maid's window. The tension was getting to her. It had been a few days since she'd been declared Bill Adams's sole wife and there were only a few more days until that board meeting. The outcome would give her everything she finally wanted; her freedom and the money to pay for it.
~*~
Bill was giving Jake one last pat before stepping onto his tugboat when his deckhand, Hamish, jumped onto the dock from the vessel.
“There a problem?” Bill asked.
“Nope.” Hamish gestured over his shoulder. “I’m apparently not needed on this cruise. The boss sent over a greenhorn to work for you today. Good luck.” He gave a cheeky grin and sauntered down the dock, whistling with the joy of an unexpected day off.
Sighing to himself, Bill went up to the wheelhouse and started the tug's engines. Once they were running smoothly, he peered out the windows for this new deckhand.
A slight figure in a baggy jacket, rolled up dungarees, and a floppy cap pulled down low over his ears huddled against the bulkhead.
"Cast off!" Bill hollered out.
A longshoreman on the dock undid the tug's ropes and tossed them back over the gunwales.
The greenhorn rushed around, trying to catch the heavy lines.
Bill sighed again. It was going to be a long night.
~ end Chapter 20