“Washington, D.C.?”
He nodded. He wasn’t pushing. I was flattered with his persistence.
Relieved we’d gotten off the subject of my first trip to Boston, I smiled. “You know the answer to that. I have to work, but thank you, Marco.”
“Then quit.”
“I don’t want to quit. I like my job, most days. And I like the warmth of Florida. The beach, the tropical breezes. It’s sort of exotic to me, a mixture of Mexico and the Caribbean. I feel at peace and at home here.”
He nodded. “Someone asked me yesterday if you were tough and I told him no. But I was wrong. You are very tough.”
Ask me a different question, Marco. Tell me something I can count on.
I was proud of myself, until he asked me another question.
“Okay. I’m going to try one more time. Come with me to India, to the sultan’s palace. That’s exotic. You can smell the spices in the air. Beautiful beaches, blue water. His Pink Pasha actually sits on an atoll with coral pink sand. They import flamingos so you’ll feel right at home. Imagine wandering around the palace at midnight. The stars never looking brighter. Torches flaring. Beautiful silks and tapestries blowing in the breeze. Opulence you wouldn’t believe. You could use it as background for a news story about traveling to exotic lands.”
“And when are you going?”
“I have to be there in five days. I’ll be done in three, maybe four days, to meet with his sons and their team, but he’ll want me to stay longer. Why don’t you fly to Boston first and we’ll fly out together? It’s a long flight, but on a private jet, it’s way more fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I found it hard not to blush. My heart was fluttering at his beautiful descriptions of a place I knew nothing about. I agreed it would be an interesting trip, to learn about those lands and cultures, since my cultural exposure was so limited. It was very tempting.
I decided to split the difference, keep the door open but make sure I wasn’t something he was going to drape across his arm. I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, a harem princess and then just see where it went. That train had already left the station. I wanted to contribute somehow. I didn’t want to be a restricted bird in a golden cage.
Marco would have never liked that, either. Why did he expect that I would?
“I’ll do this. I’ll ask for time off. I’ll ask for a week, ten days, and I’ll try to give you an answer today. But I don’t want you to be angry at me if I won’t quit my job to do it.”
“I understand.”
He held out his hand and we left to attend his project meeting. Our plan was that he was going to take me home and then pick me up again for dinner. He’d already told me he wanted to retire early. So that gave me an idea.
“About dinner, Marco. Why don’t I make you something at my place? If you’re comfortable you can spend the night or come back here. But it’s up to you.”
“What would you like?”
I waved my hands out above my head. “This is beautiful, it really is. But I like my little place better. I like hearing the ocean, I like to cook. You’ve shown me how you live. Let me show you how I live, what I like to do in that little space. I don’t need all this. I’d like you to stay with me before you go.”
It took a few seconds for it to thoroughly sink in. “Okay, we’ll do that. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For listening to me, for understanding what’s important to me. Not everything in my world is about money.”
He was silent for a moment and then he said something that brought tears to my eyes.
“You remind me of someone I used to love a long time ago. She passed away way too soon, unfortunately. But I suddenly miss her.”
“I understand.”
And I did.
Chapter 17
Marco
The official Bone Frog Development group sat on mismatched office chairs we’d secured from thrift stores, along with several desks and some file cabinets in beige and sand colors. Our office was one block from the construction site, in a rented repurposed gas station. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cheap space and the group had shown their creative genius by fixing it up with a great sound system, bright colors and eclectic artwork. I found some of my old things I lent to them as well.
My loosely labeled Manager, Rhea, and her partner had designated themselves as leaders of this little conclave, the “mother hens” so to speak. They were fiercely loyal and I liked that they were invested in the project and loved bossing people around. But they were effective at it, not abusive. The team we’d hired together loved them both. Each of them had a different style, which worked well. I couldn’t have made it with one without the other. It was their talent, their management style, and it was a winning combination. I also felt they had my back.
Rhea was the one who didn’t have a problem speaking her mind, whereas Dax, her partner, was the soft touch and the person who smoothed over ruffled feathers. Rhea had been born into a military family and had lived all over the world, and she’d served as a communications officer in the Marines for ten years. The only person she reported to was me, but she didn’t mind the co-managing the group with her lifelong girlfriend.
“It isn’t about the money, Marco. It’s that you backed out on your promise, man.”
I could see we had more of a problem than I’d calculated. I knew I should have been on it sooner. “But I didn’t do
