The Recluse

"Of course, just a minute then," I responded, wondering glumly what I'd done to deserve another intrusion into my well ordered and deliberately private existence. I belatedly had to admit that it was my own fault for my imprudent actions of inviting them in the first instance. No good deed should ever go unpunished!

It only took a few minutes for the purpose of their incursion to be evident. Getting out of the car, a late model Nissan, I now noted, Trisha held aloft a light blue rectangular cardboard container that was instantly recognizable.

"Oh my goodness, do be careful with that would you?" I called out apprehensively.

"It's just a bottle of whiskey," Trisha replied, "but Bill left it for you with instructions that you were to enjoy it with his compliments and in his memory."

Walking up, Trish handed the carton over to me with a flourish.

"Sorry, but have you any idea what this is?" I asked almost breathlessly.

"Well, it says Macallan 30 on the label. Does that mean its 30 ounces?" Angeline asked suggestively, with enough of a smile that I was pretty sure she was joking.

"It means, dear woman, this is a bottle of thirty year old MaCallan whiskey. Not only that, the fact that this box, and the bottle within it, are light blue in colour also means that it is 'sherry cask', the very finest of the very best! It comes from Speyside in Scotland and is, in my humble opinion, about the best single malt money can buy. The last time I checked it went for about five grand a bottle! That is about $ 200 per ounce, so you can see why I didn't want you to wave it around. I don't know what I did to get myself this ingratiated in Bill's books, but I certainly won't complain about whatever it was!"

"Oh, I think that's marvellous! Obviously my father-in-law thought very highly of you, and knew you would appreciate the gesture. By the way, my obnoxious husband sends his apologies for his insufferable behaviour yesterday. As you would already know if you had come to the reading of Bill's will, and yes we were informed that you were invited, he certainly didn't squander the very handsome money you paid him for the land. Both Jim and Darla are the beneficiaries of a substantial settlement, and I think it is fair to say our financial troubles are behind us."

During this surprising monologue Angeline stood along side her sister smiling broadly. As Trisha took a breath Angeline stepped into the conversation again. "Brad, were you by any chance at the lakeshore early yesterday morning?"

Startled, I coloured slightly before responding with another question. "Whatever are you asking, Angeline? You know I was, you met me there."

"Yes, and you've already answered my question! You see, yesterday when you met us on the trail you addressed Darla by name, and then covered yourself by saying you knew her father well, and thus her name, but Bill never called her Darla, you see. Her full name is Darleen, but she hates it, so we all call her Darla because dear Antoine shortened it from darling. It didn't dawn on me until this afternoon at the lawyer's office. Everything in the legal documents say Darleen, of course. I wondered yesterday why you weren't surprised by four women in what were obviously very wet underthings. Trish, I suspect our famous author was secretly observing our little swim show!"

"Oh dear, really? Brad, is that true? I am so embarrassed!" Trish unconsciously held her hands up over her breasts as her face coloured prettily.

"Yes and no, and you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed over. I was actually at the lake before you arrived, and I did somewhat unwittingly observe you all entering the water, but I assure you I left before you climbed back out! I was actually up high on the cliff face above the bay contemplating my next novel when you all appeared. By the time I realized I should identify myself for your comfort, you were already in the process of disrobing to swim. I admit I was startled at first by four lovely women appearing at my shore, and I did not react as quickly as I might have."

Angeline smirked in seeming disbelief.

"I think I must choose to believe you, Mr. Willis, because it is the least embarrassing alternative I have!" Trisha replied with an ever widening grin.

"Well, glad that is settled for now," I replied with a sheepish smile. "Would you ladies like to come in for an ice tea or a cocktail?"

"Thought you'd never ask,"replied Angeline grinning back at me.

A few minutes later we were again ensconced on my balcony overlooking the pond, each with a chilled glass of white wine in hand.

"So, I guess the reading of the will went better than anticipated. I'm glad for that. Your father in law was a nice guy and I'd like to think his kids will think kindly about him. In fact, I'm modelling a character in my next book after Bill. It's expanded, of course but he is my inspiration for the role. He told me a lot about his former life as a forensic accountant and it just clicked for me."

"Oh," Trish glowed, "that is so cool. Wait until I tell Darla! She'll be thrilled."

Angeline raised her glass in salute. "Well, as one accountant talking about another, I'm sure Bill was a good one. As I remember him, he was a stickler for details and that makes a great investigative accountant. A bit too anal and mind numbing for my taste, but hey, whatever turns your crank."

That got the conversation going about life choices and careers. Trish admitted that being an office manager was not her first choice for a career, but it helped pay the bills, and she had been forced to cut her education short when she found herself pregnant with Gerald.

"It wasn't like we didn't want kids, but we were not ready financially and I really wanted to finish my interior design degree. Now Gerald is through school and off to collage, so maybe with this inheritance from Bill I can go back and finish, although Jim says too late to start a new career."

"Oh, bull! Trish, you are thirty-seven not fifty-seven. You have lots of time. I say go for it." Angeline said, clearly a restatement of a previously buried topic.

"What do you think, Brad?" Trish asked, sipping her wine tentatively.

"I didn't start writing my first novel until I was twenty-eight, and frankly I didn't write anything worth reading until I was well past thirty. Never too late to do what you love, Trish. Never too soon to stop doing something you don't love," I responded.

I could see the wheels turning in Trish's head. Don't get involved, you dummy, I thought to myself. Cautiously I turned the conversation back to Angeline and her position with the land developer in Richmond. "So what sort of development work does your firm specialize in?" I asked brightly as I could manage without trying to sound like a moron.

"Oh, I'm not sure of all of it, but mostly commercial and institutional stuff I gather. I am just a numbers cruncher and spend most of my time taking care of project audits and reviewing the financials for the tax forms. I'm not really involved in the project decision making. We have two divisions, one is involved in land acquisition and the other is developments. I am mostly on the development side of things, but I am just accounting, and that mostly tax and financials."

"When I was still with W&F I spent most of my time in development, too. Didn't really have a feel for acquisitions, not like my brother, he breaths the stuff. Really think it is almost an art form at times, you know? Looking that far ahead to find a location that will be where you can maximize value on it in maybe five years or more. Of course W&F does a lot of residential and light commercial developments, designing and building whole sub-divisions with infrastructure for strip malls with grocery anchors. My cousin Andrew has proven quite a genius at taking the next great locale and convincing up and comers that it will be the place to own in short order. He and Kurt make a good team. Andrew is the gun-slinger, and Karl the prospector."

We all visited companionably for another half hour before Trish noted that the women should really get back to Bill's house as the whole family, including several cousins that I had not heard of previously, were going out for dinner to celebrate. Angeline, clearly appeared to be less than enthused by the prospect of another family dinner.

"Angeline, would you consider staying over for dinner here? Of course you are invited, too, Trisha, but I understand if you are obligated... It won't be much, I assure you, but I can offer a nice quiet paddle on the lake after dinner. I have a pair of kayaks that do need to be exercised!"

"That sounds lovely, Brad, but Jim would be less than impressed if I left him alone with all that family tonight. But Ang, if you'd rather have a quiet dinner with great company I'd understand all too well!" Trish smiled broadly at her sister with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I must say the offer is more than tempting, if you don't mind giving me a lift back later?"

"Oh, not a problem. Are you all staying at Bill's place?"

"No, not that much room there! Darla and Tony and Chris are there. We are staying at a B&B in Culpepper, bit of a drive I'm afraid."

"Not so much, really. Fifteen minutes from the end of the drive. I think I can navigate that," I smiled.

With a quick kiss for her sister, a brief hug for me, and a wave as she walked away, Trish was off for the family dinner. As she drove out of sight Angeline sighed with evident relief. "Thank you so much for the rescue! You have no idea. Yes, I love my sister and Darla is a dear friend, but last night was more than regrettable and I'm not sure I could face that mob again tonight. Fortunately I leave for home in the morning! Now, what can I do to earn my supper, Mr. Bradley F Willis, author extraordinary?"

I couldn't help but smile at Angeline's obvious relief and implied offer. "Not really much to do, actually. Would you mind if dinner was a bit later?"

"Not at all," Angeline motioned to the lake with her head. "We're you serious about the kayaking, or was there some other physical activity you had in mind?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly, a smirk on her lips.

"Kayaking would be great, of course, if it interests you. Once around the lake is not more than a half hour and there isn't much wind today so it should be a relaxing paddle."

"Oh, just realized, I'm really not dressed for sitting in a kayak, am I? Angelina looked down at her print dress and strapped three inch heals."

"We can fix that in a jiffy if you aren't to terribly fashion conscious about it! I can at least promise it will be more conservative than what you wore yesterday to go swimming!"

"Well, now you just dashed my hopes, Mr. Willis!" Angeline said with a saucy grin.

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. "Sorry to be a stick in the mud, my ex-wife thought I was, too!" With that I walked into the house and reappeared moments later carrying a canary yellow tee shirt and a pair of hiking shorts I'd grabbed from some stuff Adele left behind from her last visit. "You won't need shoes in the kayak so I think this should do. You can change in the first bedroom on the right. I'll go get the kayaks ready. Just walk down these steps when you're dressed."

Angeline was sorely tempted to take the opportunity to explore more of Brad's extensive lake house, but was afraid she might get caught. The guest room she changed in was spacious and airy with twelve foot vaulted ceilings, open beams and huge windows looking out over the pristine forest. A large ensuite bath and walk-in closet made the chamber seem palatial. 'Bigger than half my condo at home' she thought with a shake of her head. While slipping out of her dress, Angeline reached back and unhooked her bra as well. No use risking getting another one wet, she grinned to herself.

The lake was marred by only the occasional ripple as we paddled around casually, enjoying a spirited conversation that flitted from politics to economics and families to fashion. None of it was taken too seriously, with the possible exception of the subject of family, which threatened to become rancorous for a few minutes until I introduced a note of levity by imitating grandfather's sonorous tones invoking a mildly censorious rebuke to my dear brother Karl's fixation on profit over all. Soon after that we paddled around the last headland and arrived at the east end of the lake. I couldn't help sneaking the occasional peak at how nicely the yellow tee shirt hugged an obviously otherwise unfettered and ample bosom.

"Ah, yes, and this is where the famous author spies on ladies in their unmentionables!" Angeline looked up at the rock ledge some twenty feet above the water. "So, you were up there the whole time? Sitting quietly, silent and immobile while we all made fools of ourselves! Gee, I'm glad I at least had on matching underwear for a change!"

"You make it all sound so sinister! Remember, I was sitting on my own property, enjoying a quiet cigar! I'm actually surprised you didn't smell me before you got here."

"Wind must have been blowing onto the lake, we never noticed any cigar odours. No, the image I have is that you were up there, silent and watchful like some noble savage in the Last of the Mohicans."

"Not so sure about the noble savage... ah, I have it, perhaps Stonewall Jackson, standing resolute in the face of an encroaching Union Army at Manassas! I shall not move!" I sat up very straight in my kayak seat, my chest puffed out and laughed uproariously at myself as Angeline rested on her paddles grinning from ear to ear.

"Ah, a southern boy, then. If you were a Yankee you would have said Bull Run! Well, as I recall, Trisha did have on blue undies, but the rest of us were definitely out of uniform! Hardly troops of the Iron Brigade!"

"No, irregulars I suppose! As that goes, you were in white, I recall. Do I assume you were surrendering?"

"Oh, pretensions of glory! I see it all now. Yes," she said nearly choking, "certainly sinister and underhanded motives, my dear Mr. Willis!"

Our infectious good humour took us all the way back to the west end of the lake, where I was starting to stow away the kayaks when Angeline crept up behind me wrapping her arms around my waist and mashing her soft breasts into my back. All thought of kayaks slipped from my mind for a few minutes while we enjoyed a few languid kisses and I enjoyed cupping those lovely tits. After a short interlude while Angeline went in to change, I finally got the kayaks stored under the deck. I decided I didn't really feel like cooking and, as we had to drive into Culpepper later anyway we might as well eat out. Angeline spent a good portion of our dinner filling me in on her family life, while occasionally reaching across the table to brush her hand over mine. Trish was her younger sister, and by process of extrapolation I figured out that Angeline must be just approaching forty, while Trish, I already knew from our previous conversation, was thirty-seven. We also spent a few minutes discussing her sister Trish's difficult marriage. The more I heard the more convinced I was that Jim might resemble his father in appearance but certainly not in temperament. Trish seemed like a decent sort and I thought she probably deserved better than the steady diet of abuse she seemed to live with. It was the only negative note of the evening.

Well, I really kind of enjoyed that, I thought as I drove home having dropped Angeline off at her lodgings with a nice good night kiss and hug. We had not exchanged numbers or other information, although I rather have suspected she might have like to, had I offered.

Wednesday I was just deciding which project to tackle first when the really obnoxious ding on my computer notified me of an incoming message from the offices of Wallis & Foster. Still two days until the August board meeting, so no reason for anyone to bother me today. I had already sent in my notice of attendance, I had my agenda, and besides I knew no one really cared if I showed up or not. I could have, and frequently had, assigned my vote to my uncle, my mother, or my cousin. I never assigned my vote to my brother, just out of spite. There were a total of nine board members, of whom five were family. Aunt Anna could have had a seat, but she declined early on, not wanting that responsibility. Mother, being a Foster, and having company business transacted on her dining room table early on in the life of the company, was quite active on the board, and had become more so after father's death. Still, it was Uncle George who was the backbone of things. He was not just the chairman, he was the final word on a lot of direction, even though Andrew and Karl did most of the day to day heavy lifting.

The message was from Uncle George, which made me take notice because it was a rather rare event. Opening the document provided a truly startling and totally unexpected result. Uncle George wanted a private meeting, just the two of us, away from the office, and before the board meeting. He asked if I would mind terribly coming into the city a day early and meeting with him at the Willard, where he would book me a room.

Must be something big up, I thought. A room at the Willard wasn't George's style. In spite of the wealth the company had accumulated, Uncle George was still a very unassuming kind of guy. It was one of his finest traits, and I loved him for it.

Well, into downtown Washington a day early. If there was one person who could convince me to wade into that morass of pretentious humanity it was certainly George, and he knew it!

Chapter 3

The traffic on Highway 15 was fine, just like usual on an early morning, but by the time I 66 crossed 495 we were in creepy crawly mode. Fortunately I had given myself lots of time and I pulled up at the Willard with a quarter hour to spare without too much white knuckle desperation or muttered imprecations at the near catatonic state some Washington DC drivers seem to operate in.

Uncle George never was one for much small talk and today showed no signs of any acute transformation of his singularly focused mind. He met me in the lobby and ushered me directly to the elevators that whisked us up to the suite he had reserved for me. We were barely in the room and seated in a pair of rather ghastly French provincial armchairs before it was all business.

"Brad, thanks for this, I really appreciate it. You know, the last really tough patch we've had as a corporation was the housing crises in 07-08, and thanks to your dad's brilliant move to get us into a very unleaveraged financial position in 06, we actually did very well coming out of that, buying up that whole repo'd subdivision in Fairfax Station along with the shopping centre in Rockville. Anyway, we survived when a lot of others didn't, and we came out of it a stronger and healthier company, but not without a good deal or perspiration along the way.

I wish your dad was here today, but he isn't, and I think we may need the kind of 'luck' he so often produced through brilliance and insight.

Richard Perkins is going to resign his seat on the board as soon as we convene tomorrow. He gave me a heads up three days ago. He hasn't said why he's leaving, but I suspect a coming conflict of interest, and that concerns me greatly."

This was news I sure didn't expect. Richard has been on the board longer than I have. He is president of Citizens Bank, our major banking partner and lender.

"Andrew won't be at the meeting tomorrow. He's down in Virginia Beach looking at a very interesting distressed property that might have huge potential if the Naval Air Station expansion gets approved.

My sister, who also doubles as your mom, is vacillating about showing up, but if she doesn't she'll give her proxy to Karl. That might be a problem, Brad, because I have been given some information that Karl might be interested in doing a deal with another developer from Richmond, which would involve selling the Regent Property in Fairfax County. I think the deal is a mistake, but if Karl has two votes, his and your mom's, plus I think he'll have Don Ferguson's, because they are golf buddies and Don owes Karl his seat on the board , that give him three pretty much for sure. If Richard is out and Andrew is away Karl only needs to swing one more vote to carry the day. I know Pete Hoffman will stick with me, we've been friends for years and I sit on his board, too. The wild card is Louise. You know her as well perhaps as I do, Brad. I need your take on where she might navigate toward in a showdown."