Seducing the Neighbor Ch. 12

"Dalrymple, if you take another step forward, I'll punch you out!"

"Yeah?"

"I've stood here for the last ten minutes listening to you strong-arming everyone. I know everything about your reputation. If you go anywhere near Cathy or threaten her in any way, I'll kick your head in!"

"Who might you be?"

"I've got connections, too -- with the Atlanta Sheriff's Department. I can testify to everything's that's just happened here. So can one hundred other people in this room," Daniel said, extending his arm at the now-silenced crowd watching the unfolding scene in the restaurant. "Plus there's that rather nice CCTV camera up there on the ceiling capturing everything you're doing," he remarked, pointing up at a small glass globe embedded in the ceiling.

Rupert's heart sank as he looked at it. "Oh."

"In a court of law, 'oh' won't cut it," continued Daniel. "I can requisition the Sheriff's Department to seize that footage with a simple phone call," said Daniel, his eyes looking steadily at Rupert, unflinching. "You're dumber than I thought."

Rupert turned to look at me. Suddenly, he flew into a rage and lunged towards me. I screamed and fell back. "YOU USELESS SLUT!"

Daniel grabbed Rupert and attempted to wrestle him away from me. Rupert landed a punch, causing Daniel to stagger back. Cries of alarm went up from the onlookers, as Daniel righted himself and squared off with Rupert. Daniel attempted to block Rupert from me, his broad torso coming between us. Rupert tried to throw a punch, but Daniel's strong arm grabbed his arm. With his right fist, he then punched Rupert in the stomach.

Rupert fell back, folding at the waist, before Daniel made a right upper cut on his chin, causing Rupert to stagger back against a table behind him. Then Daniel stepped towards him and delivered a right-hander to his cheek. Rupert fell sideways and onto the floor.

"Get away from Cathy!" cried Daniel. He turned to look at the events manager, who stood there open-mouthed. "Sorry about the mess," he said. Turning to me, he grabbed my hand. "Come on, baby -- let's get out of here."

Astonished, I turned and followed as Daniel strode through the restaurant, leading me towards the exit.

There was an uproar among the crowd, and I heard Jo's voice ring out above them. "Calm down, everyone, I can explain!" she shouted above the noise.

Daniel and I turned the corner and moved quickly up the corridor to my room. Inside, I flopped down on the bed. "Oh, wow!"

Daniel stood over me. "Don't worry about this, Cathy -- I've got it all in hand."

"What?"

"Let me call my dad. I can get him to make a few phone calls and get the police to come around to the resort to deal with this."

"Daniel!" I said. "I don't even have any evidence! It's literally his word against mine."

"No problem. He won't be arrested for that -- just for being drunk and disorderly. We'll deal with the other stuff later."

"How?"

"Listen -- don't get your hopes up. He's probably not going to get done for sexual coercion, rape, assault, abuse, harassment or anything. He'll more than likely get away with it. That's not my concern. I'm not on a mission here."

"Then what do you want?"

"Just to give you some space, enough for him to leave you alone and think twice before he bothers you again. While he's nursing his wounds, we'll have time to figure out something else."

I sighed. "Like what?"

Daniel sat down on the bed next to me. "Let me get this straight. So you figure this whole weekend vacation is just a set-up so that Dalrymple can look at some eye candy and sign them up to some kind of mega-elite modeling training scheme, and the fashion show is just a ploy to sign up attractive members of staff who fancy becoming models themselves, so he can maximize recruitment."

"Yeah."

"Then you reckon he's gonna impose himself sexually on them in return for his 'connections' in New York and around the world and all this fancy training."

"Right."

"So it's basically, 'eff me and I'll give you a job on the front cover of Vogue' or some junk."

"You got it."

"Uh-huh."

There was a knock on the door. Oh, no! "Who is it?" I shouted out.

"It's us," said a female voice. It was Krystal.

"Wait up!" I cried, jumping up to let them in. Presently, she, Amelia and Bonnie filed into the room, looking astounded.

"What on earth just happened?" asked Krystal. "The dining room looks like Wall Street at quarter to five!"

"Worse than that!" said Bonnie.

"Way worse," agreed Amelia.

"Sit down, ladies," I said. So then I filled them in on everything that had happened, while Daniel used the room phone to call his dad in Atlanta. As he held a prolonged, in-depth discussion, I chatted with the girls.

"That's just terrible," remarked Bonnie finally, after I had concluded my story.

"What's gonna happen with the fashion show?" asked Amelia.

"That's the least of our problems now, Amy," I said.

"The thing is, everyone's going to think we're responsible," continued Bonnie.

"Yeah, Atlantic Models is gonna get whacked by every fashion company in Atlanta that we usually deal with. Nobody will want to hire us!" cried Krystal.

"I'm really sorry about this, girls. I guess it's my fault for blowing my top like that; but I can't have that man coming back into my life."

"Is he that terrible?" asked Amelia.

"Yes, he is, Amy!" I cried. "I know exactly what he's up to! He'll try to recruit every model in Atlanta, and some of ours may likely go over to him."

"No, wait!" cried Bonnie. "What about this whole new 'cooperative' idea? The one Hunky Handsome over there cooked up?"

"Yeah, what about that?" demanded Krystal.

"That's right!" I exclaimed. "In all this drama, I'd forgotten! I could still offer it to our girls -- from the look of the box in reception, it looks like it's popular!"

"It is!" said Krystal.

"That doesn't help anybody else that doesn't work for us, though," I said.

"No, but it could!" Krystal said.

"Yeah, I agree!" interrupted Bonnie. "It's the answer. Dalrymple thinks the only way models can hit the big-time is if they've got his connections, so he figures they'll all sign up; but if we offer the cooperative model of working, we can use it to achieve it on our own."

"Yeah," agreed Amelia. "We would be self-employed freelance contractors for hire, but using the power of the whole of Atlantic Models to make sure we wouldn't get individually screwed over."

I felt suddenly excited. "YES! Great! How can we achieve it, though?"

"Why don't we get them to fill in the same form as we have in the office?" suggested Amelia.

"Yeah," agreed Bonnie. "It's got name, address, contact details -- you name it."

"Awesome!" I cried. Then I thought. "Hmm, I wonder if I can get Mary at reception to email it to me on my phone? Then I would need to print it out and give it to all the models at the resort!"

"There's a business center next to reception in the lobby here," stated Bonnie.

"There is?" I replied, thunderstruck. "Oh, but it's Sunday! Is it open?"

"I don't know. We can ask!"

"Cool!" I cried. "RIGHT! Plan of action, girls! Amelia, go and find out from reception if the business center's open on Sundays and tell them we need it right now. Alternatively, if they've got a printer at reception, ask if we can use it -- tell 'em I'll pay."

"Right."

"Bonnie and Krystal, go and organize the other models at the resort and tell them about our cooperative and basically bring them up to speed on what it is, and tell them about Rupert's plan and how we're better. Then get them to assemble out by the swimming pool or somewhere big and open and I'll distribute the forms after Amelia's sorted out the printing. I'll meet everybody there. Meanwhile, I'll call Mary and tell her to email it to me right now."

"Yes, ma'am!" cried Bonnie.

"Right -- GO!" I ordered, and the three models all rushed for the door. I whipped out my cellphone and called Mary. Bummer, I should have made the application form an online thing and had it up on the website or sent it by email to all my models. Why didn't I? I could have just told everyone to fill it in online and I wouldn't have to mess about with stupid bits of paper. Man, this is what comes of being thirty-two but surrounded by Generation Z models. They're gonna think I'm Old Mother Brown, doling out forms on paper while they're all digital natives. Huh!

I told Mary what I wanted and she kindly emailed it across. She was alarmed at the background to the request but I told her I would tell her all about it on Monday. There was no time to lose.

Daniel got off the phone. "I've talked to dad -- he can get authorities to look up Dalrymple's files, find out if he's got any convictions, any dodgy business dealings, financial irregularities, whatever. Just a paper trail right now but it's a start. Oh, and the police have been called. They're probably already here, since he told them quite some time ago."

I was alarmed. "Are we gonna get in trouble?"

Daniel frowned. "No, not at all. We haven't done anything wrong."

"You punched the guy out!"

"Don't worry -- I've already told dad what I did -- oh, and he'll request the local police to grab the CCTV footage."

"All right." I sighed. "OK, I need to head off to print something out at reception. I'm waiting for Amelia to report back but I figure I'll meet her there."

"Oh, yeah? What's going on?" asked Daniel.

So I briefly filled him in on our plan. He was impressed.

"That's brilliant!" cried Daniel. "I never knew that my suggestion would come in so useful."

"It's an awesome idea. You're incredible!"

Daniel laughed. "Not really! A cooperative is a pretty common business model. It's standard-issue Business Studies syllabus material."

"Huh. Well, whatever! It's what we need right now! Come on!" I made for the door, and Daniel stood up to follow me, but as I approached it, somebody knocked on it from the other side. "Oh, Amelia, we were just coming to see you!" I cried, as I flung open the door. I was astonished to see Jo Anson standing there.

"Where are you going? You've got a lot of explaining to do!" she said, furious.

"Now, listen -" I began.

"No, you listen, Cathy! What on earth do you think you're playing at? You've totally trashed this whole event!"

"Me?"

"YES! Of course you! This was supposed to be a chance for our principal agency to witness the level of talent available in Atlanta to raise up the level of modeling quality, to give all the models a leg-up in the industry!"

"What -- by signing them up to get abused by a sex pervert?"

"STOP IT! You've got no evidence!"

"I don't need evidence! Also, I seem to remember this was supposed to be a 'relaxing weekend getaway' for all the community?"

"That's just -"

"Just a pile of garbage, huh? That's not what you told me -- or anyone else!"

"I don't need to tell you everything our company does!"

"The fact is, Jo, you've signed up to this, and sold out."

"My boss made the decision!"

"Yet you know my business model, how I've tried to offer my girls a different option to get away from all that negative abuse -- that's why I'm in business! Then you do this and expect me to go along with it?"

"Nobody cares about that, Cathy -- every fashion company just needs models to wear their clothes! You're the smallest of the three agencies we use -- thanks to your stupid business model!"

"What!"

"Everyone wants to expand -- agencies, fashion firms -- who wants to stand still? The other two agencies are planning to use Rupert's scheme to train up their models to become more competitive and to attract bigger and better clients -- why aren't you?"

"For your information, Jo -- I don't remember ever being told about this scheme before this weekend. I didn't know Dalrymple was in Atlanta. If I had known, I would have warned you not to have dealings with him -- like the good friend I am!"

"GOOD FRIEND? I don't invite too many friends to a four-star resort to have the place smashed up and my number one client decked out by your beefcake boyfriend!"

"Daniel was protecting me! Rupert was threatening me!"

"The fact is, I need to explain to my boss what on earth happened here at the office tomorrow! I'm gonna get fired!"

I prodded a finger against her chest. "You should have thought of that before you agreed to Rupert's plan without doing any due diligence on who he was or what he wanted. I don't expect you to tell me everything, but you do usually tell me what's going on in the industry locally. This thing with Rupert is obviously a big enough deal that I should know about it. How come the other two agencies know about him but I don't?"

"You're always busy!"

"Oh, shut up! That's not the reason!"

"I know the reason," interrupted Daniel, suddenly. "If you know about Cathy's business model, then you must have known about Dalrymple's background and that it wouldn't gel with Cathy's ethos. So you didn't tell her because you knew she wouldn't approve!"

Jo looked at Daniel with annoyance. "Who asked you to butt in? I don't need to explain -"

"He's right, Jo!" I cried. "You were afraid to tell me, but it would have looked weird to not invite me because everyone else in Atlanta is here, so you just hoped I wouldn't put two and two together and figure out what was going on. You didn't know I've met Rupert before."

Jo looked stricken. "Aah!" she cried, unsure what else to say.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, get out of my way! I've got places to go to!" I barged past Jo and into the corridor, Daniel following on behind. My door slammed noisily behind me as we headed off down the corridor, leaving Jo standing there open-mouthed and dumbfounded.

As we approached the dining area, Amelia suddenly appeared.

"Oh, Cathy! The business center's closed -- but there's a printer in the manager's office!"

"Can we use it?" I asked.

"The receptionist told me she would need to speak to you -- but it's free of charge," she explained.

"Right, I'll speak to her," I said firmly, striding into the room.

"What shall I do now?"

"Go and help Bonnie and Krystal. Where are they?"

"By the swimming pool."

"Go and lend them a hand -- I'll be there shortly."

"OK!" Amelia ran off.

We walked through the tables and chairs, and I glanced over at where the fight had taken place. There were two police officers standing there, but the events manager and Rupert were nowhere to be seen, while just two or three models were standing around looking slightly stunned, plus maybe three other people, who looked like fashion company or agency staff. The restaurant was otherwise empty.

A little surprised at the rapid emptying of what had been a pretty crowded scene a short time ago, I arrived at the reception desk. A woman was there. "Hi, I'm Cathy Dixon," I began.

"Are you the CEO of Atlanta Models?" she asked.

"I am. I'm here about the printer."

Just then, I saw the two police officers approaching, who had evidently overheard my name.

"Bummer," I remarked.

"Don't worry, I'll handle this," said Daniel, determinedly. "This is my department." He put up two hands as the two men approached. "Officers, I can explain," he began. With that, he introduced himself, explaining his dad's role in calling them, and answering their questions, while I dealt with the receptionist.

Pretty soon, the manager's office was unlocked and the printer was set up. "I'm gonna need about a hundred copies," I announced. "Are you sure I can't pay?"

"Oh, really? In that case, I think I'll probably have to charge you -- sorry! I can add a business center charge to your bill if you want," she said.

"No problem," I answered. It turned out to be fifteen bucks. Whatever. Let's go!

Soon enough, I had a big sheaf of papers in my hand. Exiting the manager's office, I walked past reception, only to see Daniel walking over to the fight area with the officers.

"Daniel!" I called.

"It's OK, Cathy! You go and see the girls!" he yelled, turning back to see me.

I was surprised, but didn't have time to argue. I ran off to the swimming pool.

Blinking as I arrived in the brilliant sunshine, there was a huge crowd of around seventy-five models standing around, while Bonnie, Krystal and Amelia stood in different places, talking loudly and answering rapid-fire questions from the concerned women, all of whom looked disconcerted and somewhat harried, as if wondering what was happening. Observing more closely, I saw the crowd in three roughly equal groups, corresponding to each of my models.

I strode out purposefully in front of all of them, calling out to my three models.

"Oh, wow, she's here!" cried Krystal to her group. Various models turned to look at me, some of them recognizing me from various photo shoots in Atlanta.

I addressed the crowd. "Right, everyone, listen up! This is the deal! I -"

"It's OK, Cathy, we've kind of explained already -- just give out the forms -- quickly!" cried Bonnie.

I hastily divided the sheaf into three parts and handed them to the three of them, who then distributed them around.

"Er, hey," said one model near me. "Do you have a pen?"

What! "Er, OK, let me just find some," I replied, hastily. Bummer! I dashed off back to reception.

Right, this is the last time I'm doing this -- I'm getting a webmaster for my site first thing tomorrow, I thought, as I ran all the way back. HUH! Some vacation this was turning out to be.

The receptionist looked surprised. "Hello?"

I explained my need.

"I've got some boxes of twenty -- just black and red."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever -- I'll just grab what you've got -- I'll bring them back later," I said.

She handed me three boxes. It wasn't enough, but never mind. I hauled butt back to the pool.

Ten minutes later, I found myself surrounded by the frankly bizarre sight of seventy-five incredibly gorgeous women all lying around on the ground in smart casual wear scribbling stuff on bits of paper by a four-star resort swimming pool, chatting amiably about the situation like they were gossiping at a polite tea party.

Krystal came over. "What on earth, huh?"

Despite myself, I giggled. "This is so ridiculous. I can't believe this is happening."

"Where's Daniel?"

I frowned. "Actually, I don't know. He's dealing with the police but I don't know where he went."

"Hmm."

"So did you tell all the models? Do they like the idea?"

"Most of them, yeah. Some weren't convinced, but I'm hoping peer pressure from the others will persuade them."

"Well, we don't need all of them -- just enough to screw up Rupert's plan."

"Right."

"Did you talk about Rupert?"

"Yeah. They were shocked, but not shocked, if you know what I mean."

"That sounds about right." I looked at her. "Krystal, this feels weird. I've got a 'calm before the storm' feeling."

"Yeah, me, too."

Further minutes went by. "Start collecting the papers as they finish," I ordered. My three models obeyed.

We had got about two thirds of the papers and pens back when I heard a kerfuffle by the double doors leading to the outside pool area. I saw three police officers holding Rupert, who was struggling to break free of them, plus the events manager, Jo, and Daniel, who, as soon as he saw me standing at the front of the crowd, ran faster to meet with me. "Cathy!" he cried.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"That's what I want to know, too!" shouted Jo, walking fast towards me.

"The police want to speak with you," explained Daniel, "but they're holding onto Dalrymple, so he's here, too."

"Are you Ms. Cathy Dixon?" asked the one officer I hadn't seen yet, as he shoved Rupert around to stop him from struggling. Rupert stood still, looking sullen.

"Yes, I am."

"We understand that you are alleging that Mr. Dalrymple here is a former acquaintance of yours whom you claim attempted to exact sexual favors from you when you worked as a model in New York."