Before They Were Stars - Scarlet Red

When you spend forty to fifty weeks out of a year traveling for business, you try to work in a little vacation whenever circumstances permit.

August of 2010 was one of those times. I had to participate in a symposium on technical certifications for the IT industry that was scheduled in Breckenridge, Colorado. The event in Breckenridge would run Tuesday through Thursday, which would allow me to leave on Friday.

At a charity silent auction two years previous, I had won a one-week ownership of a timeshare in Vail, Colorado, but had never been there to use it. Vail is only around fifty miles from Breckenridge, and there is rumored to be some pretty good trout fishing in the area, so I tagged a week of vacation onto my Colorado trip.

I flew into Colorado Springs on Monday instead of Denver. Since Stapleton International Airport got replaced by the newer airport, I avoid flying into Denver as much as possible. I also liked the fact that with fewer passengers, I was able to reserve a Mustang convertible as my rental car without an upgrade charge.

I had plenty of time to get to Breckenridge and wanted to make the trip a leisurely one. After programming my destination into the GPS and specifying "No Freeways", I followed the directions west from the airport and eventually north through some of the most beautiful mountain scenery I had ever experienced. I reached the Breckenridge Resort mid-afternoon and was checked-in shortly thereafter.

Traveling as much as I did, the opportunities for consistent exercise routines were challenging. Sure, most hotels had a workout facility, but the equipment was variable and frequently non-functioning. I had learned that the most consistent exercise available to me was swimming, which I enjoyed immensely. The resort had both a heated indoor pool that was open year-round and an outdoor pool that was open on a seasonal basis.

After swimming laps in the mostly empty pool for about twenty minutes, I retreated to a table under an umbrella on the pool deck where I had left my towel, sunglasses, and Blackberry so I could keep an eye on them while I was in the pool. I took a chair and surveyed the scenery, and I mean Mother Nature's scenery, not the feminine scenery that was on display around the pool area. I was trying to check e-mail on my Blackberry, holding it at different levels and angles to minimize the glare on the screen, when I heard someone speaking to me.

"Don't you ask a person's permission before taking their picture?"

I glanced away from the screen and into a pair of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on a woman -- well, actually, in this case, a girl. She had shoulder-length blonde hair that was worn pushed back behind her ears. She was quite tall; probably around five-feet-nine inches, slender but curves in all the right places. She was wearing the uniform of one of the resort servers, but since she didn't have a name badge visible or her hair secured, I assumed that she was off the clock.

I lowered my sunglasses and studied her for a few seconds before responding, "First of all, I wouldn't use the camera on this thing to take a picture of anything I wanted to capture and keep. Secondly, if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the scene behind you."

In a bitchy tone that I didn't deserve, she asked, "Why wouldn't you want to take a picture of me? You into boys or something?"

I chuckled and shook my head, "I didn't say that I wouldn't want to take a picture of you, I said that if I was taking a picture from where I am sitting, it would be of the mountains behind you. I'm sure that you are very photogenic, but you would deserve something better than the crappy camera on this device."

I held up my Blackberry for her to see what I was referring to. I was still using the Blackberry Bold, model 9000 which came with only a two-megapixel camera. Taking a picture of an inanimate object such as a network switch or serial number plate was one thing. Trying to capture a pretty girl's face was something else entirely.

"So you would want to take my picture," she said, this time with a smile that showed her beautiful teeth in all their glory, "but you didn't answer my question about whether you were into boys or something."

I laughed again and said, "I thought that was a rhetorical question."

"Well, it wasn't," she said. "In my experience, a man with a physique like yours, as tanned and toned as you are and wearing a Speedo swimsuit is usually gay and trying to show off his wares to other men."

"I don't mean to sound condescending," I said, "but you appear to have led a rather sheltered life. Can you take my drink order now, or did you want to question me further?"

She stared at me for a few more seconds, during which time her gaze lowered to my lap, almost involuntarily. My towel was draped over my shoulders so she would have a clear view of my swimsuit when she glanced down.

Finally, she spoke, "I don't start working for another thirty minutes, and I only work part-time serving at catered events. I'm not old enough to serve alcoholic beverages, so I couldn't take your drink order anyway. I'll let someone know to come out and take it for you, though."

I said, "Thank you," and then went back to checking my e-mail, ignoring the pretty but pesky little tart as she walked into the resort building.

Being a subject matter expert on several industry certifications, I found myself surrounded by people who wanted to try and get free consultations from me every time there was a break in the symposium presentations. While I don't mind providing 'teaser samples', I made good money consulting on certification training programs, test preparation tools and the like, so I always tried to politely steer people towards my billable consultations rather than providing them too much for free.

I had enjoyed a large breakfast so that I could utilize the lunch break period for making or re-establishing business contacts. I had a cup of iced tea but ignored the various food stations. My pretty pool-side pest was working as a server at the symposium's catered lunch. Working at the dessert table, I noticed her glancing at me several times when I was speaking with someone else. Strictly out of curiosity, when I had a pause in people wanting to talk to me, I went in search of something 'sweet'.

Offering me a plate of freshly baked cookies, she said, "You seem popular. Does everyone here know you?"

Now that she had her employee badge on, I could see that her name was 'Charlotte'. Somehow that didn't seem to fit her, but it was probably just my perception of that name seeming more appropriate for a girl with a southern accent or something.

"I certainly hope everyone here doesn't know me," I said with a chuckle. "That might be bad for business."

She handed a plate of cookies to another participant without even looking at him and then said to me, "What type of business are you in, Greg? I assume it has something to do with IT since you're here..."

So, she read the name on my name tag. "I own a consulting business," I explained. "IT certification and training are just two of several areas that we consult companies on. I thought that you worked evenings, Charlotte." Two can play that game.

"I work when the catered events are scheduled. Most of them are in the evening, but some are lunches such as this. It's just part-time until the end of this week. They won't need the extra help again until the ski season gets here."

"I see," I said. "Well don't work too hard. I better get back to the presentations."

"Sure," she said with a grin. "I'll see you around."

I didn't give her comments any consideration until later that afternoon when I ran into her on the pool deck. She had taken the vest and tie portion of her uniform off and was sitting at the table where we had met yesterday. There was a magazine in her hand and a bottle of water on the table. I looked around for another location to place my belonging when I swam where I could see them from the pool. She saw me looking around and motioned me over.

"I see you're going for a swim again," she said. Her eyes roamed up and down my body as she spoke. "Go ahead and leave your stuff here. I'll watch it for you."

Now, I'm not a bodybuilder or professional athlete, but as I approach forty, I bear a striking resemblance to the way I looked when I swam competitively while attending UCLA. I no longer shave all my body hair or wear a swim cap, but the physical attributes and stamina remain. I have considered entering one of the iron man competitions but can never find time in my schedule for it.

I set my towel onto the table opposite her, placed my sunglasses on to of it, and then positioned my Blackberry between the arms of the glasses.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll probably be about twenty or thirty minutes, so if you have to leave, don't worry about my stuff. I can watch it from the pool."

She tore her eyes away from her examination of me long enough to glance at my items and asked, "Don't you have a room key?"

I turned slightly and tapped my right hip to indicate where I had slid my card key inside my swimsuit. Her eyes darted quickly to the profile of my manhood visible from the side before glancing up once more. She was biting her lower lip but said nothing as I walked towards the pool and dove in.

Not being certain that she would still be sitting at the table once I had finished swimming laps, I continued to glance that way every few laps. The magazine she had been reading never left her lap as she kept her focus on me. I considered cutting my laps short so that she wouldn't feel obligated to stay, but then I remembered that I had given her permission to leave any time that she wanted.

When I left the pool and began walking back to the table, my eyes met hers and we remained locked on each other during my approach. She held up a hand when I was about five feet from the table, imploring me to stop.

"Can I take a picture of you?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why would you want to take a picture of me? I'm just a wet old man."

Grinning broadly, Charlotte said, "You certainly don't look like any old man that I've ever known. Besides, I have some friends who I think will agree with me so I want to be able to show them a picture of you. Do you mind."

I laughed and said, "Knock yourself out but make it quick. I need to go shower and get ready for my dinner meeting."

Charlotte held up her cellphone and studied the screen. She had one of the recently released Apple iPhone 4's. I followed her instructions for the poses that she wanted, trying to keep from laughing at the seriousness of her expression while she took several shots. I noticed that she focused my poses on ones that would emphasize everything inside my swimsuit. If anything above my shoulders appeared in any of the pictures, it would have been entirely coincidental.

"Can I dry off now?" I asked when she finally lowered her cellphone. She had a flushed complexion on her face and she was once more biting her lower lip. She just nodded and remained seated as she watched me.

After drying my hair, I finger combed it and put on my sunglasses. I checked my Blackberry for any e-mails that might have arrived while I was in the pool to make certain that my dinner plans for the evening hadn't changed. They hadn't.

"Well," I said, "I hope you have a good evening, Charlotte. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow again at lunch."

"What are you doing after your dinner meeting?" she asked. The now almost constant biting of her lower lip was making it swell slightly.

Man, she had great lips. Young, possibly jail bait young, but great none the less.

"Why?" I asked.

She hesitated before answering, "I don't want to get in the way of any work or anything, but if you're just going to be watching TV or something like that, maybe we could talk some."

"Talk?" I asked. "Talk about what exactly?"

"Well, mostly I want to talk about you," she said. "I kinda think you could help me understand some things."

"What sort things do you think I can help you understand?"

"If we get into them now, you'll probably be late for your dinner meeting," she said as she stood. "Can we talk later?"

"How old are you?" I asked.

"I turned eighteen on August 1^st." Holding up her iPhone, she said, "This was the present from my mom."

"My dinner meeting probably won't be over until after eight o'clock," I told her.

"Can I give you my phone number so you can call me when you're done?" she asked. "I'll come to your room or meet you someplace where alcohol isn't served. I'm still underage for that."

"I'll tell you what," I said, "Give me your number and I'll call you when I get back to my room after dinner. If all you want to do is talk, we can do that over the phone tonight."

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked with a wicked grin on her face. "Afraid of being alone with me or something?"

"Let's talk on the phone first," I told her. "If the conversation warrants more personal interaction, then we can meet up someplace." She seemed like a sweet kid, so if I could help her, why not?

She just stared at me with a look of indecision on her face. I needed to get going.

I opened a new contact in my Blackberry and asked, "What is your phone number?"

She gave me the number and then I asked, "Do you want to tell me your last name so I can have a complete contract entry?"

"It's Redford," she said.

Beautiful blonde from Colorado? I had to know. "Any relation to..."

She laughed and said, "No, I think my mom is just a big fan of his."

"Okay, well maybe you can explain that when we chat later," I told her. "How late is too late to call you?"

"So, you will call me then?" she asked.

"Unless something else comes up," I told her. I didn't make a habit of hooking up with strange women while on business trips, but I was single, and me being hit on in a hotel bar was not unheard of. My conversation with Charlotte would definitely take a back seat to the opportunity for me to get laid.

"You can call any time," Charlotte said as she rose from the chair. "Enjoy your dinner."

Maybe it was the thought of hooking up with some strange woman and getting laid, but my appraisal of Charlotte's teenaged bottom as she walked away required me to hold the towel in front of my body as I returned to my room.

I did have an opportunity to get laid, but not really. While a woman did make her interest in spending "some quality time with me", as she put it, I never crap where I eat, so her being a potential client was a show-stopper.

Getting back to my room just after eight, I spent twenty minutes on urgent e-mails before stripping out of my clothes and crawling naked into the king-size bed. I propped pillows behind my back and glanced at the bedside table. On it was my Blackberry and the latest David Baldacci paperback. Decision time.

I picked up my phone and found Charlotte's contact information. Staring at it for over a minute, remembering her curious nature, her confidence, and the almost pleading look that had been in her eyes earlier, I finally initiated the call.

"Hello," she answered. Her voice was slightly slurred. I hoped that I hadn't wakened her, but it wasn't even nine o'clock yet, so that would have been unlikely.

"Hi, Charlotte. This is Greg, calling you as we agreed."

"I know," she giggled. "No one besides you and my mom have my number and I spoke with her an hour ago."

"Okay, so what can I do for you, Charlotte? What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Do you have any pizza, Greg? Smoking pot always makes me crave pizza."

I laughed at her openness, "No, Charlotte, I do not have any pizza. I had salmon for dinner."

"You should come over. We could order a pizza to be delivered," she said.

"You could do that without me being there," I told her.

"Nope," she said. "I don't have any money for pizza. I won't get paid until Friday. I could come over to your room and you could order pizza."

I laughed again, "You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

Her voice took on a more serious and sober tone, "Not hardly. If I had an answer for everything, I wouldn't want to talk with you so badly."

"That brings us back to the matter of what you want to talk to me about," I chuckled.

"Your laughing at my munchies, aren't you?"

"Actions have consequences, young lady," I chided. "Maybe you should have waited to get high until after we chatted."

"See, you're already giving me good advice," she giggled. "I knew you would."

"You knew I would do what?" I asked.

"That you would give me good advice. I knew when I saw you in your swimsuit yesterday that you would be the right person."

"Charlotte, I'm confused. How did seeing me in my swimsuit translate into me giving you good advice?"

"Because," she said, "I need an unbiased adult to help me. I'm the confused one."

"Maybe we ought to table this discussion until you come down some," I suggested.

Ignoring my suggestion, she said, "Plus, everyone respects you so much. I asked people who I saw you talking to and all of them think the world of you. I think I can trust you too. Can I come over and see you so we can talk in person? I really need to talk to someone tonight."

"Where do you live?" I asked her. I didn't think it was a good idea to have a pretty young girl stumbling around the resort while she was high.

"I'm staying with a friend in an apartment near the ski lodge. She's gone until tomorrow night."

"Give me the address," I told her, "and I'll find you."

She gave me a street address, but by her description of the building, I knew that I wouldn't need it. It was located around the back side of the resort; an easy five-minute walk.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," I told her. "Please don't smoke any more weed until I get there."

"No problem," she said. "I'll be glad to share it with you."

That wasn't what I meant, but I let it drop as I disconnected the call and began searching for something casual to wear. I pulled on a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't bother with socks as I slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and tied them. Grabbing only my wallet and card key to the room, I headed for the lobby.

I had to walk past the gift shop on my way out, so I decided to see what they might have to take the edge off of Charlotte's drug-induced appetite. The prices were outrageous, but I was expecting that to be the case. Potato chips, Oreo cookies and some sort of processed sausage sticks were the best I could do. I was knocking on what I hoped was the right door a few minutes later.

"Who is it?" asked Charlotte from behind the closed door.

"It's Greg," I replied. "I come bearing snacks."

The door flew open and Charlotte jumped into my body as if she expected me to catch her. I did catch her, but I think the potato chips suffered in the process.

"I think I love you," Charlotte said as she disengaged herself, took my free hand and pulled me into the apartment.

"Thanks, I guess," I said. "Here are some snacks for you. I was going to get you something to drink, but all they had was beer."

"That's okay," she said. "I have beer here. Well, technically, it's my friend's beer but I share my pot with her so she won't mind. Would you like a beer?"

She was just too damn cute. I didn't know if she was dressed for bed in her mid-rift tank-top and shorts, but that would be a reasonable assumption. What I did not have to assume was how her legs went on forever. I had only seen her in her uniform, which was a black vest over a long-sleeve white shirt and utilitarian black slacks. I was enamored with her playful innocence.

"Sure," I said. "If your friend wouldn't mind, I'll have a beer."

Charlotte took all of the snacks out of my hand, hurried over to the couch and began opening packages. She looked up at me long enough to say, "Help yourself. The refrigerator is in there. Get me one too, please" She pointed to a doorway that I assumed led to the kitchen.