Page 9 of Phoenix Fire

When Carlton responded his voice still held an overdose of arrogance and irritation. “Mr. Lupo knows where I stand. I've given him my assurance.”

“Yes, of course you have, but you must be pretty damned dumb to think that your assurances have no time-line. Let me make it very clear for you, Prince. You settle up the score with Mr. Lupo within forty-eight hours or you'll have to worry about more than a telephone intrusion. You got me, Prince? I can't say it no plainer.”

“You're a vulgarity, Mr. Danzetti, and I don't appreciate being talked to this way.”

“I give a crap, Prince, what you appreciate! Talk to me! Really talk to me.”

“You can inform Mr. Lupo that my account will be cleared by Friday night. And, I repeat, Mr. Danzetti, I do not want you to call me at the office ever again.”

“And, again, I say 'up your ass.' I will tell Mr. Lupo what you've said. For your sake, I would keep very close to the Friday time frame.”

There was a sharp click and an ensuing dial tone.

Carlton Prince stood for some seconds, the phone in his hand, his countenance a dark and hard portrait of mixed emotions. Then, he sat again at his desk. He pulled within his reach a sheaf of papers, some checks of various sums, and a large, thick ledger book. He picked up the phone and dialed Rita's extension.

“Yes, Mr. Prince?”

“I don't wish to be disturbed for any reason for the next thirty minutes. Make sure I'm not.” without waiting for Rita to reply, he put the phone back in its cradle.

At her desk outside of Carlton Prince's office Rita slowly replaced her own phone and stared at the closed door of his inner office. “What a terribly rude man,” she thought aloud in a low, barely audible voice. If she were not making such good money, there would be no way she would put up with his brutish behavior.

Rita called the switchboard and told the operator not to put any calls through to Mr. Prince for the next hour. Rita then left for an early lunch.

Chapter Seven

The great house wore its nostalgia serenely and its warmth beckoned like the unhurried flame of a large fireplace. In the spacious parlor where the gold, gray, and mauve colors blended in lovely profusion, Jason, Jenny, and Myrena Wimsley sat looking out the huge plate glass wall onto the pool and the magnificent Monet like haze of flowers beyond. Soft light classical music could be heard from hidden speakers along the high carved wooden walls. They sipped at their cocktails and sat comfortably in sporadic periods of silence.

If Jason had wanted his Grandmother to bond quickly and fondly with Jenny Mason in their first meeting, he would have been pleased to know Myrena's thoughts at the moment. It had not taken long for Myrena to see the obvious magnetism between the two young people. Instinctively, she had liked Jenny, and, in their brief conversation, had judged her to be not only lovely of looks but charming and wise as well.

Jenny's blonde tresses was skillfully coiffed into a fluff which framed her pretty and lightly made-up face. She wore an elegant outfit of powder blue and gold which fitted her light coloring and also blended nicely with the interior furnishings of the grand house. The string of pearls was a simple supplement to the ensemble. Myrena was quite impressed with the young lady.

Jason's choice of clothing for the evening was a gray silk shirt and black slacks, adding a most pleasing symmetry for the couple. Myrena thought they made a striking duo and she saw a special glow in her grandson's eyes. Perhaps this was the lovely lady who would finally lay claim to his heart. Myrena found herself wishing this to be the case. His previous attitude toward women, toward love and marriage, had seemed somewhat indifferent, even cool and hard at times. Myrena felt strongly about the validity of her instincts, and very good about Jenny Mason.

They sat on soft ornate wing chairs in a huge room with various pieces of furniture of another era. A large corner fireplace, light from the big window, the high sculpted ceiling, the ever present tray-bearing Wardley, and the light classical music brought some magical time dimensional illusions for Jenny Mason. She felt a marvelous sense of déj? vu, like she was here in another life. She had a great sense of belonging, an awesome sense that some generational truth was being shared with her.

Myrena, her partially gray hair rolled tightly into a bun at the back, was demure in a light brown dress with yellow trim. She looked at her turquoise necklace timepiece. “Oh, I do wish Carlton could be on time now and then. Well, dinner will be served at the appointed time, Carlton or no Carlton.”

“He's not all that late, Grandma. You said dinner would be at 8:00 tonight instead of 7:30. It's only 7:20, and he's never here before now. If he's true to form he'll show at the last moment, just as we're seating ourselves at the table.”

“Yes, you're right, I suppose … Jenny, my dear, tell me a little more about yourself, your work, your family.” Myrena smiled sweetly and sincerely.

“You shouldn't get me started on my family and my work. I run on and on.” Jenny smiled and took a quick look at Jason. “Well, I'll try the really short version. I work for the Stratford Advertising Agency on North Central as an Account Executive. I love my work because I get to see the results of my efforts in magazines, newspapers, and on television commercials. Are you familiar with the currently running TV ad for Raintree Cosmetics?”

Myrena nodded affirmatively. “Why, I do believe I've seen that one. There's a beautiful horse, a chestnut, crossing a stream and going under a waterfall.”

“Yes, that's mine! That was so enjoyable, putting that ad campaign together. I even met the horse.” Jenny giggled. “But that's an example of my work, trying to create an image in advertising for the client and his-her product line so that the company and its goods and-or services become easily recognizable and subliminal to buyers' purchasing decisions. It is just too much fun to be called work.

“Oh, well, that gives you an idea of what happens in my nine to five world. Born and raised in Lawrence, Kansas, and my parents still live there. My father has owned and operated a movie theater back there for thirty years. Dad and Mom still live in the same old two-story colonial of my youth. The memories are beautiful, so many good friends and good times.” Jenny paused, looked at Jason, back to Myrena, and smiled. “I'll stop now. Told you I'd run on and on.”

Myrena patted Jenny's arm. “It's all very interesting, my dear. What brought you to Arizona, to the Phoenix area?”

“My college roommate came out here first. She fell in love with the valley and the climate. I came for a visit and fell in love myself, with the valley and climate. Went home, got my clothes, and returned.”

At that point Wardley entered again with another round of cocktails and a fresh tray of hors d'oeuvres.

“These should hold us until dinner, Wardley. Thank you,” and, pausing, she added, “and why don't you pour a drink for yourself. Sit and relax for a spell. I'll ring you if needed. Rosemary has dinner all prepared and will serve us. You've been on your feet too much today.” She smiled pleasantly at Wardley, and he nodded a 'thank you, madam.' “Please go on, Jenny dear.”

“Actually, there is not much more to tell, Mrs. Wimsley. You know how Jason and I met … the lightning episode. My life has been somewhat dull compared to most people. Then, again, lightning does not strike everybody. Guess I'm unique there.”

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