Draw Me A Picture (11 page)

“A sale, eh? As in washing cars or tables of baked goods?” Michelle softly at his tone.

“Ha... as if they could,” she said. “I doubt your fellow legalists would even know how to wash a car.”

“Legalists? Now that‘s just silly,” William returned, smiling. “Still, you might be right about the lack of manual labor. I, however, do wash my own car. It’s an Aston Martin. No teenager making $8.00 an hour is going anywhere near it.”

“I’m sure you wash it yourself,” Michelle said, smiling widely.  “No, I’m talking about a sale of services; you know... a two-for-one hostile takeover deal.” Her voice took on a bright, advertisement tone. “The first restructuring is free with purchase; firings not included. Fine print has not been tested on animals...”

William laughed; the young woman was quite convincing as she rattled off her little suggestions. He suddenly imagined someone presenting such ideas to the board; the ensuing looks of disbelief on such stoic faces would be priceless. He smiled down at Michelle. The fun in her bright eyes seemed almost tangible.

“You’re quite the little improv-comic,” William told her. “Ever perform at a comedy club?” Michelle wrinkled her nose.

“I have not,” she said, with conviction. “You’ll not find me on a stage. Definitely not my forte.”

“Aw, now... you’d sing me a song if I asked, wouldn’t you?” William queried, smiling. Michelle saw he was teasing her.

“Well, I can sing 'It’s a small world after all'. Want to hear that?” William shook his head at her.  

“Minx,” was all he said.

They walked a ways in silence, comfortable being near one another. Michelle thought over William’s pet name for her; even having a pet name was kind of flattering. She would not have considered herself in the ‘minx’ category but William had a way of subtly drawing her from her shell; when he baited her, she found herself bantering back and liking it.

“Your mother is very nice,” Michelle said, after a short pause. William grinned and looked at her sideways.

“You’re serious?” he joked. Michelle made a face at him.

“You are fortunate to have a kind mother,” she replied. “Mine was like that. They try hard to make your life better, in their own way.” Sobering, William looked at Michelle's face a bit more closely.

“I was sorry to learn of your parents, Michelle,” he said, leaning a little closer to her as they walked. His companion looked at him searchingly for a moment.

“I don’t remember telling you about them,” she said, puzzled. “Oh... right. You had a PI ‘investigate’ me.” She said the last bit with a small smile.

William shrugged.

“Yes, well... I wanted to know if you were ‘for real’, as you Americans say,” he explained. Michelle squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“It’s OK…” she said. “I have nothing to hide.”

“So I found,” William said, affably. “Although, I was curious about something... have you no family at all?”

“Ouch,” Michelle thought, closing her eyes. William felt her wince and instantly regretted the question.

“I’m sorry to ask...” he began. Michelle gave him a half-smile.

“Please don’t worry about it. I’m not upset,” she explained. “It just seems so corny talking about my life. I really don’t want to be pitied.”

“Corny or not, I really want to know,” William said, soberly. Encouraged by his interest Michelle took in a slow breath. It seemed refreshing to have someone ask her direct questions, apparently spawned of a genuine interest. Michelle decided to tell him all that he'd care to ask her about.

“I have an uncle,” she said, finally.

William appeared somewhat baffled by her answer.

“An uncle. Just one?” Michelle nodded.

“My Uncle Oscar,” she explained. “He's my father’s older brother.”

“Oh,” William answered. He walked a few steps before speaking again. “I didn’t see him in the report.” Michelle bit her lip.

“I’m not surprised,” she said, heavily. “He and dad argued or something a long time ago, when I was about ten. Dad said he changed his last name in college, something to do with being mad at his father. I haven’t seen him in years. I do know he used to travel around the world a lot; sometimes he’d bring us gifts and things from other countries, I mean… until he didn’t come back anymore.”

“I suppose it would be silly to ask if he died,” William commented, after a short pause. “It sounds as if you don’t really know what happened to him.”

Nodding, Michelle concentrated on the pedestrian immediately in front of her. The entire topic teetered on an emotional precipice, for her. Still, she wanted William to know more about her, and this was a big part of why she was alone.  

“He sounds like a bit of an eccentric,” William remarked.

“I suppose that would be an accurate description,” Michelle said, slowly. “He helped construct
skyscrapers; a foreman of sorts, or so my parents told me. He was building one in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia the last time he visited us. I remember he brought my mother and I each a bright-blue, silk scarf. My dad said that he and Uncle Oscar had a ‘disagreement’. That’s when he stopped visiting. I was still in high school.”
 

“Must have been a bloody big disagreement,” William put in.

“Yes,” Michelle said, shrugging. “All I know is that he didn’t respond to the letter I sent about my parent’s accident, and I didn’t see him at the funeral.”

“I see.” William’s statement was full of understanding. Just listening to Michelle talk, he felt nearly overwhelmed with sadness. He’d had a similar burden in having to direct his own father’s funeral. The urge to help Michelle pulled on him stronger the more she spoke.

“You know...” the young woman said, quietly. “Even though he wasn’t around too much, I don’t think I have forgiven him completely for disappearing. If he’s still alive, I mean. How can you be so angry as to ignore your own brother’s funeral?”

“A grudge is an ugly thing, Michelle,” William remarked. “It can’t really be explained unless you know firsthand what happened. Your Uncle must have had his reasons.”

“True,” Michelle said, frowning. “It still hurts that my remaining family member is nowhere to be found.” William nodded.

“I agree with you there,” he said.

Looking up at William, Michelle grinned.

“Well, since I can’t hire Sam Spade to check you out, maybe you could tell me a little more about yourself.”

“Ask away, sweetheart,” William said, flashing her a grin.

“Alright... what made you reside stateside?”

“I interned at Brownstone & Peters’ London office after University. A position opened up here in an area I seem to have a knack for: corporate contracts, take-over bids, that kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Michelle said, smiling. “Modern-day legal piracy.” William gave her a side-long look and grinned.

“You’re not far off,” he told her. “I’ve been closeted away there for six years now; sometimes they let me out for meetings and things but mostly its just piles and piles of paperwork to look through.” Wanting to show an interest in his work, Michelle  searched for something intelligent to say.

“So, you look for loopholes?” she suggested. “Trying to find anything that will get a better deal for your clients, right?” William seemed unenthusiastic about this entire subject, but he brightened visibly at Michelle’s comment.

“That’s right,” he said, smiling looking down at her. “Anything that improves the client’s chance is appreciated, but also I hash out the fine points, so to speak: which staff goes where, who gets the Axe, who stays at what salary and all the mundane, impossibly tedious details needed for today’s corporate take-over.” William closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead.

“You need a break, don’t you?” Michelle said, softly. William flashed a ‘Don’t Worry I’m Fine’ smile at her.

At the mention of vacation the notion of taking a long drive to Vermont together floated up in William’s mind; though the biting air made a picnic impossible, he suddenly wanted to know if Michelle would even consider going. Despite their rather  recent acquaintance but seemed to be a strangely strong bond growing rapidly between them, more so than a mere physical attraction. He enjoyed every moment of their time together.

In William's mind, the hope of her becoming part of his life begged to be thoroughly investigated. Looking over at Michelle again, he decided to take the plunge.

“I do hope you’ll consider Mother’s offer, Michelle,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. “I could use a break and I wouldn’t mind at all if you came along with me to Vermont.”

“Wouldn’t mind?” Michelle thought, disappointed. So, he wouldn’t mind taking her... but did he want her to go?

“Of course, if you’d rather not, there’s no pressure,” William continued.

Something in his voice made Michelle pause her inward musing; a slow realization blossomed as analyzed his words and tone.

“He’s worried I’ll say no…” she thought; her eyes winded a little at the idea. For all William’s well-dressed, confidant demeanor Michelle saw that--like herself--he could fall victim uncertainty, even nervousness. The knowledge comforted her, somehow. Seeing a more human attribute in the man she walked with enabled trust gain a stronger foothold within her. Turning her head, Michelle looked up at William; his eyes regarded her expression intently. The marked uncertainly in his gaze surprised Michelle. Taking a deep breath, she mustered all her bravery.

“Would you like me to go with you?” she asked. “I mean, you… personally.”

For a few seconds it seemed to Michelle that her heart failed within her; she knew William wasn’t trying to be cruel with his pause but the moments appeared to stretch out longer with each passing second. Finally, he smiled; it was the quick, warm smile Michelle already admired.

“Is that why you hesitate?” he queried, his eyes twinkling. “You don’t think I wanted to take you with me?” He sounded merrily incredulous, as if he’d gained some imperative piece of information and was puzzled by it.

“Well, no one wants an obligatory guest...” Michelle began. At this, William laughed out loud; he ran a hand through his hair.

“Michelle Gregory,” he said, sounding vastly amused, “There is no one on this planet I would rather drive to Vermont with… or anywhere else, for that matter. Will you accompany me and--dare I say--put up with my questions?”

Michelle broke out in a smile; a look of relief crossed her face.

“I’d love to,” she said. “And for the record I like your questions.”

“Do you?” William asked, with a grin.

“You have such a pleasant voice,” Michelle explained, shyly. “I think you could get away with asking just about anything.” Biting her lip, she suddenly wished she hadn’t said the last bit.

“Really?” William said, lifting an eyebrow at her. “I’ll have to bear that in mind.” At this, the young woman retreated into the recesses of her umbrella.

Walking forward, Michelle wondered at the wisdom of agreeing to spend hours alone with William in his car, driving to another state. Certainly they were going to visit his kind mother and would be staying at her home, in separate rooms... but, still. Glancing sideways at her companion, she saw his confidence had fully returned; a content smile dressed his face as they strolled forward. They ambled in the rain for a few minutes in happy silence.

“Here we are,” William said, at last. Looking up, Michelle saw the edifice of an old fashioned, medium high-rise office building, clad in the familiar gray concrete and large, tinted windows. William led them under an awning, out of the way of the foot-traffic. “My offices are on the 23rd floor.”

“It’s impressive,” Michelle said, smiling up at him. They were standing only a foot apart, but it seemed like a comfortable amount of space. William grimaced.

“Sure, it is,” he said. His choice of words made Michelle wrinkle her nose.

“Oh, please don’t say it like that.” she said. Puzzled, William looked down at her.

“Say what... like what?” he asked, looking confused. Michelle laughed, softly.

“Sure. You can’t say it like an Englishman… it’s an American word.” William gave her a wry grin.

“Perhaps I should have said ‘surely’,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Uh... no,” Michelle said, clearing her throat. “You can say it, but you have to say it like a used car salesman. Like this, sheewrrr.” As the young woman intoned the word, William immediately imagined a man selling cars in some dusty lot. He laughed.

“Point made,” he said, licking his bottom lip quickly. “I would like to have your room number, if you don’t mind so I can call you about a date.”

Michelle smiled; her eyes were bright with mirth.

“A date? We’ve just had one.”

William leaned down, stopping just inches from her ear.

“We’ll have more, believe me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His breath warmed Michelle’s
ear momentarily. She willed herself not to blush; she failed. William noted her rosy face with satisfaction and drew away, a little. “A date for our trip, Michelle,” he explained, looking down at her eyes.
 

“Oh,” Michelle said, feeling stupid. “Right. Um... Room 203.” She was having trouble making complete sentences and mentally kicked herself. “It’s only hot air, for crying out loud!” she silently remanded herself.

Michelle let go of William’s arm and took a step back. “Won’t you be late for work?” she asked, slipping her hands into her coat pockets. Grinning knowingly at her, William took off one of his gloves; he reached up and tucked a stray piece of Michelle’s hair behind her ear. His fingers were very warm.

“Want me to call you a cab, Michelle?” he asked, stepping close to her again.

“Uh... no thank you,” his companion stammered. “I am a fairly accomplished walker. I feel like getting some… uh, exercise.”

Allowing himself a last look into her eyes, William nudged her arm softly with his elbow.  

“Off with you, then,” he said, affectionately. “Or, I’ll not be getting any work done. You are far too... distracting.” He wanted to say desirable... exquisite; even those adjectives still didn’t cover it but she definitely distracted him. Not that he minded.