《The Beautiful People》


 1. Joshua

    We''ve been on the road for hours. Part of me thinks we should have gotten there by now, while another part of me is afraid that just asking might be an admission to my poor navigation skills. I really didn''t want to be out here, and she knows it. Yet this is her boss, and I can''t put her in a position that makes her look anything short of the aspiring hard worker they all know her to be. Sometimes that pisses me off, that she''s trying to win their approval more than mine. I''m the one she alleges to love and yet here I am, spending my kid free weekend driving up to butt fuck nowhere in the middle of spring, probably going to a shitty ass cabin that has no internet, and no cell service. So while I brought my laptop with me and I can get some of my work done, I won''t be able to email it to my publisher until I return to the real world. Fan-fucking-tastic.


    And yet here I am... driving her to a company retreat being hosted by her boss.


    I''d do anything for my Angie, and the bad news about that is she''s aware of that and often abuses it. People often tell me that I lack backbone, but that isn''t true. It''s not lack of backbone that prevents me from standing up to her when she uses me. It''s fear. Fear that she''ll dump me and find a more handsome man with a bigger cock that could please her in ways that I can only see on porn hub. A fear that if I lose her that I will never find another and die alone.


    Does this make me weak? Maybe, but right now a bossy cunt that knows what she wants in life is better than nothing. It''s not like I''m not getting anything out of this relationship. I take the bad with the good, but this weekend is starting to look more bad than the other.


    Uh oh, she''s looking at me. I have a feeling I know what she''s thinking.


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    "Shouldn''t we be there by now?" she calmly asked, with a voice I know to be passive aggressive.


    Translation: Do you have any fucking idea where we are, asshole?


    "I think so," I reply, trying to convey even just a minuscule amount of confidence. "We left pretty early too, so I''m still confident we''ll get there before anyone else. "


    "Good," She said, as she resumed to gaze out the window, as if the view of vast nothing was better than looking at my ugly mug.


    I grip the wheel a bit more, as knuckles go a little white. This weekend is going to fucking suck, and I mean The Last Jedi, I can''t believe I actually miss George Lucas kind of suckage. The kind that will linger like a bad taste in your mouth and no amount of Listerine will wash away.


    Part of me hates her for making me attend this clusterfuck. If she could have come out here without me, I know she wouldn''t have hesitated to leave my sorry ass behind. I bet she''s wishing she hired a male hooker for the weekend, just to avoid introducing me to her boss. Thankfully her boss is happily married, cause I have no doubt she''d fuck him for a promotion.


    And since this is a couples retreat, everyone had to bring their significant other, and that means the scruffy writer she''s been talking about finally has to make an appearance. I feel like the elephant man, and the curtain is about to be whisked aside and gasps will be heard all around. I''m not really that ugly, and am aware I clearly have confidence issues. Yet I would prefer to speak with a therapist about it, not air anything in front of Angie''s pompus, book smart, faker friends who are all competing to kiss the CEO''s arse.


    "Yes," Angie then said spontaneously, "I think we should be there by now."


    "And I think you should shut your fucking cake hole." I mummur under my breath.


    "What was that?" Angie asked, as she wasn''t paying attention.


    "I think you''re right," I reply, "Let''s stop at the next station and ask."

 2. Angie

    It took him about ten minutes to find a place where we could inquire about our current location. Josh was never one to ask for help, even when it was evident how badly it was needed. I sat there in the passenger seat and waited impatiently for him to return and tell us how lost we are. When he returned to the car, Josh had a smile that indicated it might not be the case.


    "We''ll be alright," Josh informed me as he got back into the car. "The exit is just a few miles up, so we haven''t passed it yet."


    "Okay," I replied, trying desperately to hide my disappointment. I was looking forward to give him a small, cold helping of I told you so, but it was delayed until further notice.


    Once back on the road, it didn''t take long to find the exit and get back on the right path to make it to the cabin. The instructions my boss had left were accurate as long as we knew where we were on it. Josh is a good driver, but he''s more of a city boy. He''s not the kind of guy you want away from city lines. His idea of roughing it is room service. If my father was still alive, Josh is the kind of guy he''d rather spit on than give a blessing to. I don''t know why I''m with someone as spineless as him, maybe I had too much exposure to the macho type when I was a kid. I''m not sure, but he makes me laugh too.


    Things were rather quiet riding up to the cabin, but to be honest I didn''t want him to be here. If I had a choice I''d rather come here alone, but that wasn''t an option. Only couples were welcome at the cabin, and if my Boss hadn''t met Josh at an event just before the holidays then chances are I wouldn''t'' have been invited. I was told that only employees with significant others were invited, and singles were given the cold shoulder. So for a chance it was going to be to my advantage that Josh was here.


    "You''re not going to embarrass me, are you?" I asked him. It''s a question that came up more often than I''d like to admit.


    "I don''t embarrass you," Josh disagreed, "I''m a nice guy."


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    "Like I said," I retorted, "Embarrassing."


    "You have no idea what that word means," Josh chided, "You''ve never lived a degrading moment in your entire life."


    "And what makes you say that?" I asked.


    "Because you''re pretty!" Josh replied, "Men wouldn''t dare embarrass you out of some deep fear that you would lose interest and kill any chance of getting in your pants."


    "With an attitude like that," I said, looking back at him, "Your odds of getting any where near my pants in dwindling by the moment."


    "They were never in my favor to begin with," Josh said, shrugging. "For men, most of us are used to being the underdogs when it comes to the battle of the sexes."


    "Who doesn''t have to worry about it?" I asked, curious to what most meant.


    "Nevermind," Josh said, suddenly clamming up.


    "Coward," I said to him, looking back out the window.


    "I call it a strategic retreat," Josh corrected.


    "Whatever," I said, as I honestly didn''t give a damn. "Just get us to the fucking cabin."


    "I think I see it," Josh said, pointing at something. "That''s it right there."


    "About time," I replied, my patience wearing thing.


    "Give it a break," Josh said, "We made great time. You''ll have plenty of time to kiss your boss'' ass before anyone else arrives."


    "Fuck you." I coldly scolded.


    "Don''t make promises you can''t keep," Josh replied, "Your boss might get jealous."


    "No, seriously." I added, "Go fuck yourself."


    "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Josh asked.


    "No," I answered. "Do you?"


    "Don''t tempt me," Josh said, clearly egging me on. "Your Mom is pretty hot for her age."


    Without warning, I punched him in the arm. He didn''t say anything, but hissed which let me know how much it hurt. He realized he crossed a line and said nothing else. We said nothing else for the last two miles, and I took a deep breath and put a hand through my hair as the cabin slowly came closer and closer. There was a man standing in front of the cabin, waving as we pulled up. I was only happy to wave back as I was excited to see that my boss, Mr. Parsons, looked happy to see us.

 3. Mr. Parsons

    As I sat at the table in the kitchen nook, I could hear the patter of feet as my wife was scurrying from one part of the second floor to the other. I had been married to that woman for over twenty years, so I knew exactly what she was doing. Making and then remaking the beds, picking every scrap of lint or dust off the floors, and making the place so clean that it would have made my drill sergeant from boot camp blush. As annoying as it was to hear her bounce from one side of the second floor to the other, whcih was quite similar to hear a ball slamming around a pinball game, I knew better to say anything. This was just how she dealt with the stress that came to her from hosting guests.


    I wasn''t as worried, and preferred to not make everything perfect. I didn''t want them to think that I was O.C.D. or obsessed with details. Heaven forbid that the people who worked for me learned that I was just as human and capable of leaving a sock out of the damn laundry hamper. The whole point of having people come up to the cabin was for these employees to get used to their boss and realize I''m just one of the guys, someone they can talk to without being scared. The wife''s obsession with making the floors clean enough to eat off of wasn''t helping the cause


    I had a cup of tea and some oatmeal for breakfast. Raisins & Spices was my favorite oatmeal but I would occasionally sneak a box of Peaches & Cream whenever the old lady wasn''t looking. I took care of myself so I knew that there was nothing wrong with an occasional treat to reward myself for being disciplined and an all round awesome dude. What can I say? Self praise is clearly better than none.


    I looked up and realized she was in the kitchen. I had gotten so distracted by what i was reading that I never heard those footsteps descend the stairs. I was also getting a glare that was all too familiar to all husbands. We call it ''the glare''.


    "What?" I would ask. The standard response of a man who has no idea what he''s done to offend his better half.


    "We have guests coming over!" She called out.


    "I''m well aware of that," I replied with a pinch of sarcasm. "I invited them."


    "Well, shouldn''t you be helping?" my wife called out, her frustration evident.


    "I am helping." I politely corrected.


    "Oh really," She replied, "And how the hell are you doing that?"


    "By staying out of your way," I answered, "And also by doing what I do at my normal job: supervising. I wouldn''t recommend trying this at home unless..."


    "Unless what?" she asked.


    "Unless you are observed by a trained professional." I said, smiling at her and doing everything I could not to laugh in her face.


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    Rather than argue with my logic, the wife huffed her frustration and then bolted back up the stairs to check the guest rooms for the millionth time.


    "Don''t get all bent out of shape," I called out, unsure if she was listening. "It''s only eleven in the morning! None of them are expected till at least three o''clock!"


    "You say that," She called back from the second floor, "but one should never underestimate the power of a dedicated brown noser!"


    "It''s not even noon!" I called out, "They were told to come before supper. There''s no way any of them are showing up before lunch."


    My wife came back down the stairs, and she looked tired.


    "Alright," she finally conceded. "I''ll make a cup of coffee and we''ll rest on the front porch."


    "Fantastic," I said, as I stood up to join her. "I''ll meet you out there!"


    I grabbed what was left of my tea and walked out the front door. we had a nice swinging couch that I loved rocking on, and I took a seat and sighed deeply. No one had even arrived yet, and the misses was already close to pulling her hair out. I could only imagine what kind of wreck she was going to be on Sunday after it was all said and done. I may live dangerously but I was not suicidal, as I have a cleaning service on retainer and ready to show up on Monday if needed. If the place got seriously trashed, whcih has happened before, I was ready to deal with it. As my wife arrived with a fresh cup of coffee for herself, I greet her with a warm smile as she sat down beside me and joined in the soft swing I had already started.


    "This is nice," She confessed.


    "It''s why I bought this place." I also admitted, "The place was nice, but this swing clinched the deal for me. This place was sold the moment I first sat down."


    "Hot tub helps too," the wife added.


    "Yes, it most certainly does." I said, laughing out loud.


    "So how many are coming up here?" she asked.


    "Just six people," I answered, "Three workers, and their significant others."


    "They''re all married?" my wife asked.


    "No," I replied, "Only one couple is, the other two are living in sin. You are more than welcome to pressure them like a cranky religious mother if that''s what you want to do."


    "Tempting," my wife said, thinking about it. "I am pretty good dishing out the catholic guilt."


    "Yes, you are." I agreed without hesitation.


    "I''ll think about it," she decided, "based on who gets here first and when."


    "Interesting idea," I said, "That still gives us a few hours to relax."


    "Are you sure about that?" my wife said, pointing at the long driveway. "Cause there''s a brownnoser in the distance, closing in fast."


    "What the hell?" I said, standing up to take a closer look. And she was right, one of our guests was about to show up super early. "Son of a bitch."


    "Interesting," my wife said as she also stood up to walk back into the house. "The power of the brownnoser is strong with this one."


    "No shit," I said as I waved to the car as it pulled up. "Now we have to serve them lunch. Do we have enough here?"


    "We''ll make do." the wife said, disappearing into the house. "Maybe they had a big breakfast."


    "Doubtful," I said, walking down the stairs. "Knowing our luck, they skipped breakfast to make better time to get her sooner."


    I watched as the first car pulled up and parked next to my vehicle. I took a deep breath and realized that fate wasn''t going to let my wife and I have that breather. The work was already about to begin, and the weekend retreat was under way.

 4. Jimbo

    When we walked into the diner, it looked no different than any other diner you''d expect one to look like. The cute little tables, the long bar where single customers drank their coffee while waiting for breakfast. It all looked right out of a movie, but the roadside diner was very real and looked spectacular. My gal and I took one of the tables and smiled like your typical happy couple as the waitress strolled over and handed us a few menus.


    "Would you like anything to drink while you check out the menu?" the waitress asked us.


    "I''ll have coffee please," I replied politely, "Thank you."


    "Me too," my lady said, smiling back.


    "Alright," the waitress said, smacking her gum. "I''ll be right back."


    As she walked away, I couldn''t help but snicker just a little bit.


    "What is it?" She asked.


    "I''m sorry, Rachel." I said, covering my mouth up. "It''s the gum. It''s just so unprofessional. The only way she could be more rude is if she stuck it underneath our table."


    "I know," Rachel said, smiling back as she was clearly better at keeping a straight face than I was. "The sound of her gum was just as annoying. That smacking sound makes my skin crawl."


    "I can even see her eating it from here with her mouth open," I observed, "She looks like a horse trying to eat peanut butter."


    We both giggled for a moment but got it out of our system before the waitress returned with two mugs and poured us each a cup of fresh coffee.


    "Do you know what you want to order, hun?" She asked, in an unrecognizable drawl.


    "I''ll take the cheese omelet." I answered, "Brown toast, and a side of bacon."


    "And you, honey?" the waitress asked, gesturing to Rachel.


    "I''ll have the two egg breakfast special." She answered.


    "What kind of toast?"


    "White, please."


    "Okay then, honey." the waitress said, taking our menus. "I''ll be right back."


    "Okay then," I playfully mocked once she was far enough away not to hear me. We both laughed as I took the sugar and started to pour four tea spoons into it.


    "Jim," Rachel said, "You said you''d try to cut down."


    "I am," I insisted, "Instead of cutting down on the sugar, I decided to drink less coffee. When this cup is finished, I''ll have water instead of a refill."


    "Okay," Rachel said, with a tone that didn''t seem like she believed him. We sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence until Rachel stood up.


    "I have to go to the bathroom." she declared.


    "Alright," I replied, "No need for details. I''ll see you when you get back."


    "Not if I see you first," Rachel said, as she grabbed her phone and scooted off.


    Swiping her cell was a detail that told me she''ll be chatting with a friend and killing time under the guise of taking a stiff dump. I on the other hand didn''t give a shit, pun intended, and sometimes wished she was more honest about it. I also took out my smartphone and started troll people on twitter while waiting for my meal. Moments later the waitress arrived and placed a few plates onto the table.


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    "Here ya go, hun." She said to me.


    "Excuse me," I quickly replied, as I scanned the food before me.


    "Yeah?" The waitress said, looking back at me.


    "What is that?" I said pointing to the plate in the center of the table.


    "That''s your toast, hun." the waitress answered.


    "I remember ordering toast," I started, looking at the two black pieces of bread laying on the plate. "But that looks like two pieces of burnt. I don''t remember ordering pieces of burnt with my omelet. Do you?"


    The waitress deeply sighed, as she realized that I was going to be one of those customers.


    "Websters defines toast as crisp, hot and browned." I continued, "Does that look browned to you? Because my bread looks blacker than Don Cheadle!"


    "How does Websters define asshole?" The waitress asked.


    "Last time I checked," I said, as I began to re-cock my sarcasm bazooka. "That is defined as an angry man who doesn''t tip lippy waitresses for serving burnt food."


    The waitress responded by sighing a second time before picking up the plate of toast from the table.


    "I''m sorry, Sir." she replied, "I''ll make up a new batch."


    "Thank you very much," I said back to her, this time with a polite tone.


    After the waitress retreated with my pieces of burnt, I started to nibble on my bacon and Omelet while waiting for Rachel to return from the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later and seemed happy to have her food waiting for her.


    "Nice," Rachel started as she sat down. She paused for a moment as she scanned the table. "Where''s the toast?"


    I paused for a moment. "I sent it back."


    Rachel sat back and sighed. "I hope you didn''t make a scene."


    "If I had, you would have heard it from the bathroom." I informed her. "I don''t like eating pieces of burnt."


    "Oh my god, you called them pieces of burnt." Rachel repeated as she was stewing. "Please tell me you didn''t compare them to Don Cheadle."


    "Well..." I started.


    "Oh for fuck''s sake, Jimbo!" She called out, "I get it, you don''t like burnt toast! But what the fuck do have you got against Don Cheadle?"


    "Nothing," I said, taken back by the question. "He''s a very talented actor who just happens to have dark skin. You know I threw a shoe at the television when he didn''t win Best Actor for Hotel Rwanda at the Oscars. That was total bullshit!"


    "Yes, it was." Rachel agreed, "But if you are a fan, how about you stop using him to grade how burnt your toast is."


    "Just seemed to fit," I replied, sticking to my guns. "If I''m going to make that kind of metaphor, I''d rather reference an actor that has talent and could use a little promoting. I bet that bitch doesn''t even know who Don is, and that''s her loss."


    "I get it," Rachel said, "It would be her loss if she never saw him in Picket Fences."


    "Exactly!" I said, but stopped talking when the waitress returned.


    "Here you go hun," she said, smacking her gum again. "Toasted to Don Webster''s liking."


    "Thank you," I said, biting my lip till it almost bled.


    As she walked away, Rachel grabbed a piece and pointed at me. "Don''t say a damn word. Just eat your food because we need to get back on the road. Knowing Angie, she''s probably already up there."


    "We were told to arrive at three o''clock." I said, checking my watch. "It''s only one right now. Brown nosers like her usually follow orders. We''ll be the first ones up there."


    "Just a feeling I have," Rachel said, "I wouldn''t be surprised if her head was already up our Mr. Parson''s ass by the time we get there."


    "That much of a suck up?" I asked.


    "You have no idea." Rachel said, as it clearly upset her. "She''d do anything to get ahead."


    "Duly noted, Angie is an ass kisser." I acknowledged, "People like that piss me off. I''d give a week''s salary to see you call out her shit."


    "I wish," Rachel said, thinking about it. "I care too much about my job and our stability to tell her what I really think."


    "Yeah, being responsible adults sucks ass." I concurred.


    When we finished up, Rachel quickly left to start the car. I handed a crisp twenty over to the waitress as she came to give me the bill.


    "Keep the change," I told her, which meant I had tipped her thirty percent.


    "I thought you said I wasn''t getting a tip." The waitress said to me.


    "I had a change of heart," I said, as I stood up to put on my jacket. Rachel was already outside so I was confident in what I could get away with here. "But here''s another tip: lower the setting on your fucking toasters."


    "Whatever, asshole." The waitress chided back.


    "Sticks and stones, hun." I said mockingly, "And lose the gum next time. You might get better tips if you stop doing a bad impersonation of Mister Ed."


    The waitress stood there in stunned silence, finally speechless for the first time, as I laughed out loud while walking back out to the car. If brunch was any indication from karma, this weekend was going to be fucking epic.

 5. Mrs. Parsons

    As expected, Angie was the clear early favorite for the ass kisser of the weekend award. I should have known she was going to show up early, but before lunch is ridiculous. I watched from the front porch as my husband walked up to the car and greeted the first guests of the weekend. I could tell by the look on the face of Angie''s significant other that he was a little embarrassed to be there so early. Like he had a fucking choice in the matter. If Angie could get away with it, she would have arrived yesterday. I watched as Angie walked up to the porch while the men grabbed the bags from the trunk. You can tell she''s an only child, as she''s used to people waiting on her all the time. Heaven forbid the princess help with the bags.


    "Hello, Mrs. Parsons." Angie said, as she walked up and gave a light hug.


    "Hi Angie." I said, as I returned the half assed hug. "And none of that Mrs. Parsons crap. This weekend, it''s just Grace."


    "Thank you," Angie said, smiling. "Sorry for being here so early, traffic was a lot lighter than we expected, and that caused us to make great time."


    "Well, that''s good." I noted, but didn''t believe damn word she said. Angie was always obsessed with being first with everything, whether it be in line or just choice of guestroom. She was the kind of brat that expected to get her way. The very definition of entitlement. I knew her kind very well, and had ways of putting people like that in their place.


    "This is my boyfriend," Angie said, motioning to the man carrying three bags. "Joshua."


    "Hello, Joshua." I said, as I walked up and took one of the smaller bags from him. "Let me get this for you."


    "Thank you," Joshua said, "Much appreciated."


    "Let me show you to your room," I said, smiling at them both. "I have already assigned rooms, and prepared them for your specific needs."


    "Oh," Angie said, surprised by the announcement.


    The rooms were not being handed out by a first come, first serve basis. This was done on purpose so that brownnosers were not rewarded for showing up too early. They were instructed to arrive at three, and ignoring that instruction shouldn''t be rewarded.


    "Right this way," I said, as I held the door open for the two men carrying the bags.


    I led the two guests upstairs and to a specific guest room.


    "Here you are," I said to them. "Get unpacked and settle in."


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    "Thank you, Grace." Angie said, but was clearly hiding her disappointment.


    "You''re welcome dear," I said to her, enjoying every moment of it. "Lunch will be ready in about an hour if you''d like to join us."


    "That''d be great," Joshua replied, "I hope that''s not inconvenient, since we''re so early."


    "No trouble at all." I said, going out of my way to be nice to the polite young man. He clearly didn''t want to be so early, but had no choice. I was okay making lunch for that poor man.


    "I''ll let you both know when it''s ready." I said to him, "In the meantime, make yourself comfortable."


    "Thank you," Joshua said, with a smile that showed true appreciation.


    "Yes, Thank you." Angie said just as I was closing the door.


    After I left the first couple in their room, I descended down the stairs and scooted into the kitchen where my husband was, sipping his coffee.


    "I guess we have company for lunch?" He asked.


    "Yes, it appears so David." I concurred as I opened the fridge. "Let''s see if there''s any crow in here."


    "I get it," David replied, "I was wrong."


    "Now you know why I was working hard all morning," I said, as I started to take some foods out of the fridge and place them on the island in the middle of the kitchen. "I knew that woman was going to show up early. You know it too."


    "Yeah," David said, sighing. "I did. I should have told her five o''clock so she''s actually show up at three."


    I stopped for a moment and looked back. "Oh, that might work."


    "Maybe I should just fire her." David suggested.


    "Don''t even tease me like that," I said to him, slamming the fridge shut. "Even I know she''s good at her job. You''ll never let her go."


    "I won''t have to." David admitted, "She''s so good she''ll eventually leave to start her own business. She''ll be my competition one day."


    "So this weekend is really about knowing thy enemy?" I asked, as I started to work on preparing lunch.


    "Maybe," David said, "I''m not sure. It could just be to get to know some of the people I work with and understand they''re people too. The more I know them, the less of an asshole I''ll be to them at work on Monday."


    "Good luck with that," I said, almost laughing in his face. "You could spend the summer with them and still be an asshole. A successful asshole, but an asshole none the less."


    "That makes you Mrs. Asshole, doesn''t it?" David asked.


    "Yes," I said, looking back at him with a sly grin. "But you''re my asshole. Try not to forget that when you''re sneaking a peek at that floosy''s ass this weekend."


    "Duly noted," David said, as he placed his empty mug into the sink. "What are we having for lunch?"


    "Whatever I fucking want and you''ll like it." I chided back.


    "Alright," David said, as he left the kitchen. "Can''t wait."


    I paused for a moment after my husband left the room and sighed. That skinny bitch hadn''t been here twenty minutes and she was already getting under my skin. There was no telling how much better or worse it could get when the others arrive. Hopefully one of them will take her side and slap that smug smile off Princess Angie''s face. I warm smiled creased my face as I resumed making lunch, dreaming that wish could come true this weekend.

 6. Nicholas

    I had better things to do with my weekend, but I wasn''t exactly given a choice. This is something my Dad would refer to as being volen-told to do something. My boss strongly hinted that my attendance at this weekend retreat was necessary to ensure the future of my employment. Mr. Parsons'' not the kind of guy to make bold hints like that, so I had to be all over this thing like a fat kid on a Hersey bar. Or government money on a bad idea. Even though I''d rather be anywhere else, I had to make the best of it and not be a downer, like a wet blanket.


    What made this worse is that this is supposed to be a couples retreat. Parson asked me and my significant other to come down for a weekend to build morale for the company. It was bad enough to have to say yes, I just didn''t have the guts to tell him the absolute truth, which was that my wife of five years had kicked my sorry ass to the curb. It wasn''t like I didn''t deserve it, as I was never there and either working long hours at the office or out drinking with the guys and rubbing elbows to cut more deals for the business. My professional success wasn''t the cause, but it was an ingredient that led to her having enough and changing the locks on our condo.


    I was terrified to tell my boss the truth, but my shrink calls is classic denial. I haven''t told anyone about the separation even though it''s been a few months already. Not even my family knows about it, and that has more to do with how little we talk let alone my efforts to hide it. I even tried to call her to beg her to join me on this trip, but she didn''t pick up. Part of me is happy she didn''t, because just asked her to help me with a job weekend might have angered her again. I even considered hiring a hooker for the weekend, just pay someone to pretend to be my wife but that wasn''t an option either. To years ago my wife attended a company Christmas party, so there was bound to be one person who would know the difference and rat me out.


    I didn''t want to go alone, but that is better than not showing up at all. I even had a good excuse to try to bail out on it. My car had broken down and has been in the shop for the last few days and I wasn''t getting it back for at least a week. But I had a feeling Mr. Parsons would order someone else to give me a ride out, and the thought of riding out with someone in the back while listening to them babble on with their plus one would have made me suicidal, especially if I was stuck in the car for hours with someone totally annoying like Angie. I can''t even believe she has a plus one that puts up with her and her unhealthy obsession with her job.


    My transport issue seemed to resolve itself as a friend of mine stepped up for me. One of my former college roomies Gerald, who''s doing much, much better in life than I am, offered to loan me one of his cars. He has over a dozen in a massive garage, and when he heard that I was driving out to hang out with my boss for the weekend... he offered me something I didn''t expect. When he tossed me the keys, I couldn''t believe it.


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    I looked at the keys and back at him with a shocked look. "I don''t think this is a good idea."


    "Why not?" Gerald said, laughing at my hesitation. "You want to make a statement to you boss, pull up to his cabin in this bad boy, and all your co-wokers will be green with fucking envy!"


    "True," I replied, thinking how angry Angie would be to see it. "But the statement I might be making to my boss might be the wrong one. He''d be tempted audit the company out of fear that I might be skimming the books."


    "I doubt it," Gerald said, "But if you get desperate, just tell him what awesome friends you have. That will also impress the shit out of him."


    "I guess," I said as he was making some damn fine points. Showing up in a badass car would shock people and impress my boss. "But you don''t think this is too much? What if I get into an accident?"


    "I''m insured." Gerald said, not even worrying about it a little. "Besides, if you do wreck it... I can always buy another. There''s a new model I''ve been eyeing actually."


    "I''m not gonna wreck it," I told him, "I happen to be a great driver."


    "And that''s why I''m not worried," Gerald concurred, "We''ve done road trips before, and I know what a good driver you are. Take my girl out. She''s been neglected and could use some road time. I don''t I have to tell you what a chick magnet this thing is, do I?"


    "No, you do not." I agreed.


    "Keep it for the week," Gerald also offered, "Till you get your own car back."


    "Are you sure, Gerald?" I asked.


    "Do it." Gerald insisted, "Just promise me you''ll use it to get laid. I can tell you''re nervous. You probably haven''t gotten any since you got kicked out of the house."


    "Thanks for letting me crash in the guest room," I reminded him.


    "Don''t worry about it Nicky," Gerald said, "I''ve enjoyed your company. So have my stockholders as I''ve been doing amazing work since you moved in."


    "No one at work knows about the separation." I told him.


    "Just say she isn''t feeling well," Gerald said, "Or she''s visiting mom. Either will do."


    "I guess," I said, not liking the idea of lying to my boss.


    Gerald paused for a moment. "We can always get you a hooker."


    "No can do," I said, "I considered it but some of them know her."


    "Damn," Gerald said, "Just take the car, it will act as a good decoy."


    "Alright," I said, finally agreeing. "I''ll take good care of it."


    "I know you will," Gerald said, patting my back. "Try to have a good time and don''t get fired."

 7. Joshua

    I watched with a rather nonchalant attitude while Angie unpacked her clothes, putting them into a dresser as if she were moving in with the Parsons family. We were only going to be staying two days, three tops and she was packed to stay a week or two. I only packed for three days, and if I was going to stay longer, I was pretty sure there was a washing machine and dryer here to take care of the situation. This was just Angie being Angie, and while I was alright with it, I am sure to others it could be so fucking annoying.


    "You do realize this is just for the weekend, right?" I reminded here. "Unless some big blizzard rolls through, we''re heading back in only a few days."


    "I know," Angie said, sighing deeply. "I just wanted backups, in case someone spills something."


    "You mean in case I spill something?" I said, taking the obvious hint.


    "I''m just being careful," Angie replied, "I want this weekend to be perfect."


    "How about you aim a little lower," I suggested, "Perfection is a tad overbearing. You might get on a few people''s nerves if you haven''t already."


    "What the fuck does that mean?" Angie asked, somewhat taken back.


    "I mean tone down on the sucking up," I offered, "While I understand you''re trying your best to climb the corporate ladder, don''t do it at the expense of Mrs. Parsons'' territory. You should have seen the evil eye we were getting, I think we got her too early."


    "I''m sorry," Angie said, but it had the believability of a card that said fuck you.


    "Just take a moment, and relax." I said, as I stood up to go. "Everything will be fine."


    "Go down without me," Angie said, "I need to make a call."


    "No problem," I said, just before walking out the door.


    Angie knew what I said was true, but she still needed time to digest it so I felt it was best for her to stew over it alone. I left the bedroom and strolled down the stairs into the living room, which was pretty massive. There was a fireplace, a large dining table that could easily seat twelve people, but no sign of a television or computer. Something told me there''d be no wi-fi either, so even if I managed to do any work this weekend, I''d have to wait until Monday as I had feared to email anything to my agent and publishers. I was looking at some family photos on the fire place mantle when Mr. Parsons came strolling into the room.


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    "Joshua, right?" He said as he walked over and shook my hand. "David Parsons."


    "We''ve met before," I reminded him, "Christmas party last December. It was a open bar, so if you don''t remember, then I totally understand."


    "I''m sorry," Mr. Parsons said, chuckling to himself. "There are some fuzzy moments from that party. How long have you and Angie been an item?"


    "About a year and a half," I answered, not threatened in any way. "Will be about two years this summer."


    "That''s nice," Mr. Parson said, giving a civil smile. "I hope this weekend isn''t too boring for you."


    "It won''t be," I answered, "Besides, I brought my laptop with me and will probably kill some of the downtime doing a bit of work."


    "Oh," Mr. Parsons said, surprised. "What kind of work do you do, Josh?"


    "I''m a writer." I answered, "Fiction, poetry, and mostly comic books for an indie publisher."


    "That''s great," Mr. Parsons replied.


    Before Mr. Parsons could say anything else, Mrs. Parsons emerged from the kitchen.


    "Lunch is ready, boys." she called out.


    Being the men that we are, Mr. Parson and I immediately dropped our conversation and walked into the kitchen to down at the table located in the kitchen. Upon sitting down, Mrs. Parsons placed a plate before each of us with a lunch that looked amazing. She had made each of us a sandwich, a hot corn-beef sandwich on what looked like sourdough bread and mustard on it. The meat was at least two inches thick inside the sandwich, and looked like it was made a New York deli. They were sided with a generous helping of potato chips and a tall glass of Root beer.


    "Thank you very much," I said, looking back at Mrs. Parson. "This looks amazing."


    "You''re welcome, dear." Mrs. Parsons replied, as she was just as hospitable to me as she was when we first arrived.


    When Angie came down for lunch a few moments later, Mrs. Parsons placed a bowl in front of her. Inside it was a tossed salad with a light balsamic on top. There were small pieces of tomato, green onion, and even walnut pieces inside it. She served it with a tall glass of water and a smile.


    "There you go dear," Mrs. Parsons said, "I hope this is to your specific needs."


    "What needs?" Angie asked, rather confused.


    "David said you were a vegan," Mrs. Parsons said, "Isn''t that right dear?"


    "Actually," Mr. Parsons said, thinking about it. "I think Rachel is the vegan."


    "Yes, that''s correct." Angie said.


    "Oh, I''m sorry dear." Mrs. Parsons said, trying to look sensitive. "Shall I get something else for you?"


    "No, no." Angie said, "This looks lovely. Thank you."


    Mrs. Parsons didn''t say anything else and retreated back to her part of the kitchen. I sat there silently and ate my lunch, but looked over at Mr. Parsons and could tell he suspected something as well. I''m unsure if Mrs. Parsons really did forget who was the vegan, or if someone was being punished for showing up too early. Mrs. Parsons also probably knew Angie was too much of a brown noser to turn down the salad she was given despite the offer made. Rather than say anything about it, I decided to keep that to myself, play dumb, and just enjoy my epic sandwich. Yet a part of me was thinking this was just the opening salvo. A sign of what direction this weekend was going to venture. I couldn''t help but smile while thinking about it.

 8. Rachel

    I was still stewing over Jimbo''s incident at the diner, but was content to keep my views to myself as long as we made good time to the cabin. Neither of us had much to say, and while the radio station we were listening to had picked some killer songs... the feed kept coming in and out, and that was getting a tad annoying after a while. Eventually Jim just turned off the radio.


    "Fucking FM piece of shit," he cussed right after turning it off. "We need to invest in XM."


    "Are you still pissed that you can''t listen to Howard Stern during your morning commutes?" I asked, knowing it was a sensitive subject for him.


    "Maybe," Jim conceded, "But it''s satellite, and that means we wouldn''t lose the signal and enjoy our songs and not fight while driving up to your bosses cabin. Getting Howard back for my morning commute would just be a bonus and save my sanity."


    "Whatever, we''re not getting XM." I chided back at him. "We just need to get there already."


    "Hey, enough of that." Jim said, "The last time I checked, this wasn''t a race."


    "I just don''t want to be the last one up there," I admitted.


    "Well, I got news for you." Jim said as he was pulling closer to the cabin. "We may not be last, but you''re not first either. There''s already another car in the driveway."


    "Fuck," I said, as I recognized the car. "I hate Angie."


    "So I''ve been told," Jim said, acknowledging the obvious.


    "I wonder how early they got here?" I asked, "The tracks don''t look fresh."


    "I doubt the hosts are happy then," Jim added, "We''re an hour early too."


    "Shut up," I said, as I didn''t honestly give a shit. "An hour isn''t that bad."


    "That is true," Jim concurred, "It''s easier to explain away than being two hours early."


    As Jim pulled in to a spot beside Angie''s car, I could see two men walk out the front door to greet us. I recognized Mr. Parsons, but the other man standing beside him I didn''t know. They both walked up to the car as we were both stepping out.


    "Hello Rachel," Mr. Parsons called out, "Nice to see you again."


    "Thank you," I politely replied. "This is Jim, my fiance."


    "Fiance?" Mr. Parsons said, unaware of the upgrade. "Congratulations to you both."


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    "Thanks," Jim said, as he shook Mrs. Parsons hand. "And thanks for the invite. This places looks amazing."


    "This is Josh," Mr. Parsons said gesturing to the man beside him. "He''s Angie''s plus one."


    "I remember now," I said, shaking his hand. "You were at the Christmas party, right?"


    "I was," Josh said, "That was a fun night."


    "Do you need any help with your bags?" Mr. Parsons offered.


    "I should be okay," Jim responded, "I think."


    "I can help," Josh offered.


    "Thanks," Mr. Parson said, as he offered my his arm, "Then come with me, Rachel and I''ll have the wife show you to your room."


    "Thank you," I said, and we both walked up to the main door where Mrs. Parsons was waiting with a warm smile. "Nice to see you again, Grace."


    "Likewise, Rachel." Mrs. Parson said, giving me a soft hug. "Did you have a pleasant ride up?"


    "Yes," I answered, "It was very peaceful."


    "Have you guys had lunch?" Mrs. Parsons asked.


    "We did," I replied, "We were making such good time we stopped at a diner. Very cozy place and the food was rather good."


    "I think I know the place you''re talking about," Mr. Parsons added, "Good call."


    "We were already a bit early," I said, "And it''s hard to say no to an all day breakfast."


    "We appreciate your attempt to not show up too early." Mr. Parsons added.


    "Unlike some people." Mrs. Parsons tossed in, her frustration evident.


    "Also, who doesn''t love bacon." I said, with a smile that surprised the others.


    "Wait," Mrs. Parsons started, "You''re not a vegan?"


    "A vegan?" I repeated as I thought about it. "Perhaps you were thinking of someone else that''s coming by today?"


    "Maybe," Mr. Parsons said, clearly frustrated she was unsure which guest was the vegan. I had no idea what gave her that idea, but I was confident they''d find the source sooner or later.


    "I am just happy to be here," I said, as walked into the cabin with both of my hosts.


    The cabin wasn''t what one would expect when thinking of a small vacation place in the woods. This place was massive, and some might even call it a mansion based on its sheer size. It had two floors, several bedrooms and all the perks you''d expect for a place that was owned by a very rich CEO of a very successful business empire. Not exactly roughing it, but no one would dare question it and just remain thankful no one was sleeping on couch or even the floor. I remember reading magazines about CEOs taking their employees to barren places to test their resolve, but Mr. Parsons wasn''t that kind of guy. He enjoyed the benefits of being well off and sharing that comfort with others. While some might consider this showing off, I didn''t. I liked that boss wanted to get to know me better, and improve relations with the people he worked with. A lot of bosses these days were thanks for your work, here''s some money, now fuck off. We were not treated like cattle, which would explain why so many of us wanted to impress our boss, show him our appreciation just to be here and a part of his company.


    "This way," Mrs. Parson said, but paused for a moment. "Where are the boys?"


    "They''re not here," Mr. Parsons said, "I''ll go check on them."


    "You do that," Mrs. Parsons said, grabbed my hand. "Right this way dear. I saved one of the better rooms for you."


    "Thank you, Grace." I said, remembering why I liked her so much. Mrs. Parsons had assigned rooms, so that meant it didn''t matter how early or late you arrived; you were getting the same room regardless. The thought made me smile because I knew that probably pissed off Angie. Fuck that bitch.

 9. Jimbo

    "Do you need any help with your bags?" Mr. Parsons offered. I can tell he was just trying to be friendly, but was hoping I''d decline.


    "I should be okay," I quickly responded, "I think."


    "I can help," Josh offered.


    "Thanks," Mr. Parson said, as he offered Rachel his arm, "Then come with me, Rachel. The wife and I will show you to your room."


    I watched as Rachel walked away with our host, and then as they were both greeted by the hostess and started gabbing at the front door.


    "Hey there," Josh said, as he followed me to the back of the car, and offered a hand. "I''m Josh."


    "I heard," I answered as I shook his hand, "You can call me Jimbo."


    "Oh," Josh said, "It''s not Jim?"


    "My friends call me Jimbo," I informed him, "And I have a feeling you''ll be one of the only friends I''ll have up here this weekend."


    "You mean the only one whose lips won''t be attached to Mr. Parson''s arse?" Josh added.


    "Exactly," I said, as I grabbed one of the suitcases and tossed it softly to him. "Doesn''t he get enough of that sucking up at the office? When does he get a break?"


    "He will this weekend," Josh said, "I''m not kissing anyone''s ass. If anyone asks me too, I''ll kick theirs instead."


    "You see," I said, as I closed the trunk after pulled out the last of the luggage. "Friends. I just had a feeling."


    "I know what you mean," Josh agreed, "What do you do, Jimbo?"


    "I work in private security," I answered, "Contractor work. What about you?"


    "I''m a writer," Josh answered, "Novels, comic books."


    "Wait," I said, interrupting him. "You write comic books?"


    "Yeah," Josh confirmed.


    "That is so cool." I said, feeling even better about my new friend.


    "Gentlemen," Mr. Parsons said as he returned to the car. "Is everything alright?"


    "We''re okay," Josh said, "Just doing some early bonding."


    "Oh," Mr. Parsons said, even cracking a grin. "That''s great to hear. What the hell..."


    "What," I said as I turned around and my mouth suddenly gaped open.


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    "Who the fuck is that?" Josh asked with a shocked look on his face as well.


    We all watched as the bright red car came rolling up beside us, and parked into the driveway. Standing before us was one of the most expensive cars in the world, which left everyone speechless. It was at this point when the driver stepped out of the car.


    "What?" Nicholas called out, "You guys never see a Ferrari 488 GTB before?"


    "I haven''t," Josh honestly answered, "It''s beautiful."


    "Jimbo!" Nicholas said, as he was surprised to see me. "It''s so good to see you!"


    Nicholas walked up and took me into his arms with a hug so quickly that I accidentally dropped the suitcase I was carrying.


    "Hang on here," Mr. Parsons started, "Why is he calling you Jimbo?"


    "It''s a nickname." I answered, "It was given to me while in the corps. It''s kind of stuck with me since."


    "You were in the marines?" Mr. Parsons said, genuinely surprised.


    "I did a few tours in the second gulf war," I answered, "It was a lot time ago."


    "You served as well, didn''t you sir?" Nicholas asked his boss.


    "I did." Mr. Persons confirmed, "Desert storm. Let me help you there, Jimbo."


    Mr. Parsons grabbed one of the bags I had dropped and he turned to look back at Nicholas.


    "Nicholas," he started, "How do you know Jimbo?"


    "I''m married to his cousin," Nicholas replied.


    "Speaking of that," Mr. Parsons said as he remembered, "Where is you wife?"


    "She''s got a terrible flu," I said, speaking up as I could tell Nicholas wasn''t expecting that question at that particular moment. "Diane doesn''t get sick that often, but when she does that woman does not half ass it. She''s been bed ridden most of the week."


    "Oh," Mr. Parsons said, "I''m terribly sorry to hear that."


    "As am I," Nicholas added, going with my story. "She sends her regrets and her apologies."


    "Shit happens," Mr. Parsons said, as he grabbed another of my bags. "Josh, help Nicholas out with his luggage. Let''s get all this stuff into the cabin."


    Josh and Nicholas collected just two bags from the Ferrari, while Mr. Parsons and I both carried mostly Rachel''s stuff up the stairs. I only had one bag, and it was the only bag I used for travel for the last fifteen years; my military bag. The same dull green bag every grunt uses to pack and unpack their trunks. It took the men only a few minutes to lug the stuff up the stair and to our designated rooms. After Mr. Parsons dropped off the bags he had, I closed the door behind me and dropped my bags to the floor. Rachel looked back at me as I sighed.


    "We just got here, Jim." she informed me, "How are you going to get through the weekend if you''re already sighing?"


    "I''ll be fine," I insisted, "This is more of a I need a nap sigh than it is a want to punch someone sigh. There''s a big difference."


    "How does Mr. Parsons seem today?" Rachel asked.


    "He looks chilled," I replied, "Did you know he served in Desert Storm?"


    She looked back at me. "No, I didn''t. How did that come up?"


    "Nicholas is here," I added, "And he called me Jimbo, which required a brief explanation. I kept it short on detail."


    "Nicholas and Diane are here?" Rachel asked.


    "Just Nicholas," I corrected her, "Diane is M.I.A. Sick with the flu apparently."


    "Are you buying that?" Rachel asked.


    "No reason not to." I said, aware that it was a bald faced lie.


    Rachel was so entrenched in her own work, she didn''t pay attention to her own family, much less what happened in mine. My family didn''t keep secrets, which meant I knew everything. I just didn''t tell Rachel cause she doesn''t give a shit about anything but herself and her career. Maybe me a little bit, but not as much as I would prefer.


    "Is something wrong?" she asked, as she could sense the tension.


    "No, it''s all good." I answered, trying to ease her own nerves. "I''m just going to go back outside, get a little fresh air."

 10. Mr. Parsons

    I was walking down the stairs after helping Jim bring his bags up to Rachel''s room when my wife met me halfway with a cross look on her face. The kind of face a wife would give her husband when he''s clearly done something wrong. I face I knew all too well from being married to that woman for over twenty years.


    "What?" I asked, refusing to give away any Intel that might incriminate myself. Until I know what''s upsetting her, playing dumb was always the way to go.


    "You said one of these women was a vegan," the wife reminded me. "Which one is it?"


    "Knowing our luck," I started, "It''s probably the sick one that didn''t show."


    "And whose Ferrari is that?" she chided back. "That better not be Rogers!"


    "No, he''s not here." I said, aware of how much she hates that particular friend.


    "You''re telling me one of your employees rode that up here?" she asked.


    "I know," I said, understanding her confusion. "I need to talk to him about it."


    "Do you need to call an auditor?" she demanded. I could tell she was upset.


    "Not yet," I said, trying to calm her down. "There could be a perfectly logical explanation. I should at least hear him out before panicking. Let me talk to him."


    "Okay," She said, taking a deep breath. "Off to a rocky start, aren''t we?"


    "We''ll be alright," I assured her, despite my own doubts. "We can do this."


    "I hope so," She said, walking away. I could see her frustration but understood it.


    I walked into the living room and Nicholas was there sitting on one of the easy chairs and checking his phone. He looked apparently frustrated with the signal, or lack there of.


    "Cell service is horrid up here," I called out to him, "But I will pass you the wi-fi password later if you just want to surf online. There''s also a landline if you need to make an emergency call."


    "Oh, thank you." Nicholas said as he put the phone away. "I''m sorry about Diane, but she was not well at all. She wanted to come, but I don''t think any of you wanted to catch what she has going on right now."


    "I understand, Nic." I told him, walking over and sitting on the couch opposite his chair. "We need to talk about the elephant in the room."


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    "That being?" Nicholas asked.


    "The three hundred thousand dollar car in my drive way." I answered, "Should I be worried about something, or did you win a lottery recently?"


    "No, sir." Nicholas said, smiling. "No lottery wins, and no shenanigans either."


    "I''m still waiting for an explanation," I insisted, this time using a harsher tone.


    "My car broke down, so I got a loaner." Nicholas replied, "Gerard Wilson sends his regards."


    "Gerard?" I repeated as I looked back out the window, and then back at Nicholas. "That''s Gerard Wilson''s Ferrari?"


    "Yes, Sir." Nicholas confirmed. "He thought you''d get a kick out of it."


    "Did he now?" I asked, standing up to look out the window at it again.


    "He even said you could take it for a spin to do something stupid," Nicholas added, "Like picking up some milk at the store."


    I smiled and looked back at Nicholas. "That sounds like Gerard."


    "He insisted," Nicholas said, "I''m just happy he didn''t ask me to drive the Tesla."


    "No charging stations around here," I informed him, "Or he would have made you take that one. Yet this one did the trick; it got my attention."


    "That wasn''t my intention, Sir." Nicholas said, trying to deflect. "Maybe it was Gerard''s but I just wanted to get up here in one piece."


    "Fair enough," I said, looking back at him after finally take my eyes off the stunning red car. "I''m just glad I don''t have to call the auditor."


    "That makes two of us," Nicholas said, sighing.


    "So how the hell do you know Gerard?" I finally asked, "I mean you must know him well if he''ll trust you with one of his cars."


    "We met in college," Nicholas answered, "It was just dumb luck, as we were randomly matched up by the dormitory staff. We''ve been friends ever since."


    "So why aren''t you working for him?" I asked.


    "That''s a fair question," Nicholas said, "But the truth is you don''t work for your friends, not if you want to remain friends. He was disappointed, but after some time I think he gets it."


    "I get it," I concurred, "I don''t like hiring friends and I stopped doing it a long time ago for the very reason you mentioned. It''s more than true, it''s spot on."


    "I still help him every now and then," Nicholas added, "But I don''t charge him for it. I do the same I would for any other friend or family member."


    "Just one more question, Nicholas." I said to him, my tone a little more positive.


    "Sure," Nicholas said, "Fire away."


    "Is your wife a vegan?" I asked him.


    "She''s a vegetarian," Nicholas answered, "But not a full out vegan. She still consumes dairy products and eggs, but just stays away from what she calls the flesh of the animals."


    "Alright," I said, finally aware of what was going on. "So Diane was the Veggie. We accidentally thought it was Angie. My wife served her a tofu salad for lunch. It looked horrific."


    "Oh dear," Nicholas said, chuckling a little. "Are you sure she wasn''t trying to punish Angie for showing up too early?"


    "Maybe," I said thinking about it, "Anything vegan would be torture to me."


    "You''re preaching to the choir here," Nicholas said, "You should probably throw the rest of the tofu in the trash before she tries to punish someone else with it."


    "Good idea," I said to him, "Let''s hit the kitchen and toss that shit out right now!"


    "Right behind you, Sir!" Nicholas said, hopping out of his chair.

 11. Angie

    I was sitting on the swing located on the front porch, reading a book that I had brought out with me. It wasn''t a very good book, but I had grabbed it at the store based on word of mouth that I should have scrutinized a bit more. Yet it bothered me to spend over twenty-five dollars on a book and not finish it, so I was pushing through. I had more than half of it read by the time Josh and I came up for the weekend. Josh didn''t like the book, because as an up and coming writer himself it just rubbed him the wrong way. He thought the writer had less talent and he was also jealous that I didn''t read his work, which he believed was of better quality. A part of me wanted to buy this book because I knew it annoyed him, and I enjoyed the look he got every time he saw it. That deep sigh he makes, and then the slow eye roll. It may be cruel, but I get a kick out of the little things. I can''t help but love them. I looked up and saw it again as Josh came out onto the porch, giving me a sigh/eye roll combo as he realized what book I had on my lap.


    "Seriously?" Josh asked, "You brought that piece of garbage with you?"


    "It''s not garbage," I said, enjoying it. "Not Nobel material either, but I''ve read far worse."


    "Whatever," Josh said, sighing again. "This weekend is off to a brutal start."


    "Are you alright?" I asked him, trying to sound concerned.


    "I don''t know," Josh answered, "I just have this feeling this isn''t going to be the mushy rest and relaxation everyone thinks this weekend is going to be."


    "What do you mean?" I asked, confused to where his head was at.


    "It feels set up," Josh tried to explain, "As if the real motive for this weekend is being hidden, like there''s an intervention around the corner."


    "I think you''re being paranoid," I respond, "You''re thinking too much and over analyzing it."


    "Maybe," Josh said, open to the idea. "Just be on guard, cause this doesn''t feel kosher."


    "Whatever," I said to him, pretending to read my book. I just wasn''t in the mood to listen to any of his paranoid thoughts right now. I was hoping he''d just go somewhere else, maybe do some of his own writing.


    "I got a call from Barry a few hours before we left this weekend," Josh added, "One of my books has been optioned."


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    "Excuse me?" I asked, putting the book back down. "What does that mean?"


    "It means a big studio from Hollywood is ready to cut a fat cheque for film rights," Josh continued, "They faxed the offer sheet to Barry this morning."


    I knew a few of his books were selling, but I had no idea they were doing this well. I sat up as the man clearly had my interest for the first time in months.


    "How much are we talking here?" I asked.


    "Two million," Josh replied, "Barry is waiting for my response. I told him I needed time to think about it, and that I''d call him back on Monday."


    "Two million?" I repeated, "What is there to think about? That''s awesome!"


    "It is awesome," Josh agreed, even smiling a bit. "But there is plenty to think about. Some writers sold out and watched their books get butchered by Hollywood."


    "It''s just one book," I reminded him, "Just think about the freedom you''ll have to write without feeling too rushed or pressured."


    "That''s true," Josh said, as he looked back at me. "I just wanted to talk to you about it, hash it out a bit more before making a final decision."


    "Oh," I said, rather surprised. "Thanks for considering me."


    "Well, we are a couple... right?" Josh asked.


    "Yes, we are." I said, trying to sound confident. We were not the perfect couple, but we had been through a lot.


    "I appreciate that," Josh said, smiling back at me. "We''ve had some tough times, but we got some good times coming. You''ve had my back all this time, and now I''ve got a chance to have your back."


    "I appreciate that," I said, and I had meant it. The pressure of being the main earner in the couple was pressure I wasn''t used to, and with one big deal, the shoe was back on the other foot. This was going to take some getting used to.


    "Is it too early to say congratulations?" I said, trying not jinx him.


    "No, it''s not." Josh said, "I think I''m going to take it. I don''t care what abomination Hollywood makes, as long as I have enough to do what I want to keep doing. With that kind of money, I might even slow down with the comic books to focus more on the next novel."


    "Sounds good," I said, surprised to hear some of that. "We''ll have plenty of time to talk about it this weekend. I have a feeling there will be a lot of down time."


    "Yes," Josh concurred, "That''s why I brought my laptop with me. There''s no telling what kind of writing this weekend could inspire."


    "Just don''t get carried away," I requested, "The last thing I want is my boss getting mad cause you make him a villain or something worse."


    "Fair enough," Josh said, raising his hand. "I promise not to humble your boss with my prose."


    "Thank you," I said, as I stood up and walked over. I kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug. "I''m very proud of you."


    "Thanks," Josh said, returning the hug. "I appreciate that."


    "I''m going back upstairs," I told him, "I''m going to change and freshen up for supper."


    "Try not to overdo it, dear." Josh said, "This is just dinner with co-workers. Not a state dinner."


    "Alright," I said, "I''ll try my best."

 12. Mrs. Parsons

    I was a little flustered, but returned to the kitchen to start working on supper. While it''s true that I could have just hired someone to do all the work, the kitchen actually provided an escape. This gave me an out if any of the interactions got to hot or I was asked to talk about something that I wasn''t comfortable with. I knew how intense this weekend was going to be, so it was nice to have a metaphorical bomb shelter ready, just in case one was needed. Another part of my plan was to recruit anyone who dared to stroll through or into the kitchen and tell them to chop something up for me and be a little helper. This not only helped with the food prep, but allowed me to mingle and fish a few of the worker bee for Intel. We all have our own way of getting people to talk, and this was clearly mine. It worked more often than you think, as for some people are at ease whenever they''re in the kitchen. Their defenses are a little lower, and are open to more subtle attacks.


    As my husband walked into the kitchen, I looked up at him with that eye I usually give him. A strategy that often works on significant others.


    "Well," I started, "Whose car is that?"


    "Oh, the Ferrari?" David asked, pretending that he had forgotten about it.


    "Yes, the Ferrari." I repeated, "The half million dollar monstrosity in our driveway."


    "That''s Gerard Wilson''s Ferrari," he answered, "He loaned it to Nicholas for the weekend cause his own car broke down and is in the garage."


    "Wilson loaned it to him?" I said, as I could hardly believe it. "Why would he do that?"


    "Well, he and Nicholas are good friend apparently, since college." David informed me, "And when has Gerard ever passed up on a chance to show off how well he''s doing?"


    "Oh," I said, pausing for a moment. "That does sound like something he''d do."


    "Learn something new everyday," David said, looking out the window. "And it''s his wife that''s the vegan. So no need to worry about making veggie options."


    "Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised. "What do we do with all the tofu?"


    "I already tossed it," David answered.


    "David," I started, "You know how much I dislike wasting food."


    "I know," David said, smiling back at me. "But tofu doesn''t qualify as food. I also cleared more space in the fridge for real food and storage for leftovers."


    "Well, that does help." I said, going back to my work. "Just go somewhere else, unless you want to help with the chopping?"


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    "Nope, I''m outta here." my husband said, taking the opportunity to bolt.


    I chuckled as he left the kitchen, as that was my favorite way to get him out of my hair. Just offer to put him to work, and there wasn''t a way to make him bolt for the hills faster.


    This was when one of the ladies strolled into the kitchen, and I could swear she was probably looking for my husband. Despite her ability to not look so obvious, sometimes this girl was just as bad as the other she claims to dislike so much.


    "Hello Rachel," I called out, since she didn''t seem to notice there was someone in the kitchen.


    "Oh, hey Grace." Rachel said, smiling back.


    "I could use a little help," I said, gesturing to a station I had prepped with a cutting board and a veggie I needed diced. "Take a seat."


    "Well, I''m..." Rachel tried to start. I could see the wheels in her head turning to think of something.


    "I''m sorry," I said, interrupting her. "I didn''t mean to give the impression that you had a choice. That was not a request, so sit your ass down."


    Rachel''s eyes widened a bit, but she quickly walked over and sat down.


    "Cut the celery into small pieces," I started, "And when you get to the bigger side, you''ll need to cut them down to similar sizes. Okay?"


    "Yes, Ma''am." Rachel replied, picking up the knife and getting to work.


    "Try to relax, girl." I said, realizing the tension between us. "You need to realize that you don''t have to kiss just one ass to get somewhere in this company. There is more than one way to get ahead in this world."


    "I don''t get you," Rachel said, looking down to make sure she didn''t accidentally amputate a finger.


    "Sometimes when my husband gets flustered, and is unable to decide on something," I explained, "He will often turn to me and say, ''Honey, what do you think?'' You''d be surprised how many big decisions in this company were decided that way."


    "Oh," Rachel said, as she seemed to understand. "That''s fascinating."


    "Yes, it is." I concurred, "But this also means if I don''t like you, I also have the ability to sabotage any efforts any of you make to climb the corporate ladder. No one gets clears to move up unless I''m on board with it too. Catch my drift here, sister?"


    "Perfectly," Rachel said, stopping for a moment, as she grabbed a new stalk to start dicing.


    "This means stay on your side of the road," I added, "I do not like it when other women stray into my territory. So keep your relationship with my husband strictly professional or I''ll make sure your days in this company are numbered. We clear?"


    "Crystal clear, Grace." Rachel replied, "I am happily engaged to be married, and would never dream of doing anything like that."


    "That''s good to hear," I said as I resumed my own chopping. "But we can''t take your word for it I''m afraid."


    "What does that mean?" Rachel inquired.


    "What do you think this weekend is for?" I said, letting the cat out of the bag. "You are all being evaluated."


    "Evaluated for what?" Rachel asked.


    "I''ve said too much," I said, smiling back at her. "You''ll all find out soon enough. Back to work, young lady."


    "Okay," Rachel said, as she resumed her chopping.


    I could tell Rachel was thinking about what I just revealed. I don''t like spoilers, but it felt good to have that stay away from my hubby powwow with one of the ass kissers. It was going to take more than a stern talking to in order to deal with the other brown noser who was much more stubborn. As much as I wanted to get in her grill, mark my territory in front of everyone present, I had to hold back and give David''s plan an honest chance. If it didn''t work out as well as he hoped, then we could always do thing my way.

 13. Nicholas

    After I helped Mr. Parsons dispose of the tofu, I went back to my room to lay down and relax before supper. It was a nice sized room, but it was actually meant for two people, but I still didn''t have the guts to tell the people I work with the truth. I was afraid if they realized my marriage was failing that they''d think less of me and my work. Gerard keeps telling me that''s bullshit, and even if he''s right it doesn''t change the way I feel about it. Sometimes I do feel like a failure, and that attitude has no doubt affected my work in one way or another. This just wasn''t the right time to talk about it. Not when everyone''s trying to take it easy away from the office. No one wants that rain to come down on their parade. Then there was a knock at the door.


    "Come in," I called out.


    Jimbo opened the door and closed it behind him. "Hey Nic."


    "Hey Jimbo," I said, sitting up in bed. "Everything alright?"


    "Yeah, I''m fine." Jimbo said as he walked over and sat down on a chair that was located by the desk. "I just wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?"


    "I''m been okay," I replied, trying to act tough. "I''ve had my good and bad days. Thanks for covering for me about Diane."


    "About that," Jimbo said, "I get the impression no one here is aware of your current situation."


    "I''m afraid so," I confirmed, "It''s rather complicated."


    "How so?" Jimbo asked.


    "We have someone at work who breaks up with his old lady every six months," I explained to him, "He''s on and off again so much no one listens to him anymore."


    "I get it, you want to be sure it''s really over first." Jimbo added.


    "Yes," I agreed, "I get this is serious, but I want to be sure before I move ahead. I''m not in denial. Part of me really believes she''s not coming back. Yet another part holds out hope things might work out. Am I crazy to think that?"


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    "No, you''re not." Jimbo said, scratching his three day scruff for a moment. "Sooner or later they will find out, so it''s better to do it on your terms rather than someone else''s."


    "Fair enough," I said, appreciating the advice. "I''ll take that under advisement."


    "I always liked you Nic," Jimbo said, "You were good to her, and you deserved to better than the hand you were dealt."


    "Thanks," I said, as he clearly knew more than I gave him credit for.


    "Are you talking to someone about it?" he then asked.


    "What do you mean?" I asked, "Like a shrink?"


    "Maybe, or a trusted friend." Jimbo explained, "It doesn''t have to be me, or anyone you know for that matter. The important thing is you talk to someone and get it all off your chest. There are even support groups that can help. I found the weekly meetings very supportive when I went through my first divorce."


    "How so?" I asked him.


    "When you''re in a room full of people who are separated or getting divorced," Jimbo explained, "You are not judged by those in the room, cause they all get it. They know what you''re going through cause they are too. You''ll find it very refreshing. If you want to give it a try, let me know. I''ll email you the details."


    "Thanks Jimbo," I said, as I hopped off the bed. "I might give it a go."


    "Good to hear," Jimbo said as he stood up. "Clean up for supper and I''ll meet you down there."


    "Thanks, man." I said, patting his shoulder as he walked tot he door.


    "Not a problem," Jimbo said, "See you down there."


    After Jimbo left the room, I walked into the bathroom and washed up for supper. I brushed my teeth and cleaned my hair, making it look nice. I didn''t bring any suits with me for the weekend, as I suspected being too formal would be frowned upon by the boss. I kept the jeans on I showed up in and just changed my shirt. I had an AC/DC shirt on, and changed it for something with a collar. A nice golf shirt that my Dad bought for me. My old man hated t-shirts and never wore anything that didn''t have a button collar. It was just the way he was, so whenever he bought me anything, it always had a collar and at least a few buttons. This seems fitting as I left the top two buttons undone and the shirt wasn''t too flashy so that seemed to be not too formal, but not too casual at the same time. Despite what was going on, I wasn''t there to impress anyone, nor kiss ass. Because of my current situation, I wasn''t in the mood to do anything like that. I''ll be polite, and exercise some good manners but nothing above and beyond. I''ll let the ladies fight for the best kiss ass award.


    "No problem, Nicky." I said to the man in the mirror. "We got this. Just relax, chew your food and don''t say anything stupid. Like Gerard said: don''t get fired."


    I took a deep breath, and then left the room to head downstairs for supper.

 14. Rachel

    When I descended the staircase into the living room, most of the people were already downstairs and the table was already set. Despite the temptation to change into something nicer, I resisted and simply freshened up my hair and makeup. I didn''t overdo it, and took into account that the fireplace was very close to the dining table, so I would look like Tammy Baker by dessert. Mrs. Parsons was the only person not in the room, as she was in the kitchen getting ready to serve the meal. I walked in and took a seat right beside Jimbo. Nicholas was sitting beside him at one head of the table, and across from Jimbo and I was Josh, Angie and Mr. Parsons. They left the head of the table open which made it easier for Mrs. Parsons to serve and access the kitchen whenever she liked. I kissed my fiance on the cheek and sat down.


    "Sorry to hold things up," I said, trying to be polite.


    "We all just got here, so no problems." Mr. Parsons said, "You''re right on time."


    Mrs. Parsons soon arrived and served the first course whcih was a light salad. It was free of any tofu, apparently thanks to the efforts made by Nicholas and her husband. Besides the occasional chit chat and comments about the ride up, it was rather quiet at the table while every was eating. The second course was a roast with mashed potatoes, gravy and asparagus. Again everyone was rather quiet while enjoying their meal with a choice of wine or sparkling water. Just as everyone was finishing up while Mrs. Parsons was clearing the table, Mr. Parsons stood up to get everyone''s attention.


    "While my purpose to bring you down here was to just relax and socialize," he started, "I also brought you down here for other purposes. I have invited a few of you because there is a big change going on at the office, and I will spend this weekend evaluating all of you. Before any of you panic, no one is being let go. One could say it''s quite the opposite. I''m going to spend the weekend doing a series of interviews."


    "What kind of interviews?" I asked, curious about the situation.


    "Some of the interviews will be one on one," Mr. Parsons answered, "But more than a few of them will be in a group setting as I want to evaluate how you interact with others. The only thing I ask is that you be yourself and just answer as honestly as you can. I apologize for the secrecy but I think this is the fairest way to conduct these evaluations."


    "And what is the purpose of inviting our spouses?" Angie asked.


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    "Well, I think that is an important thing to evaluate as well." Mrs. Parsons answered for her husband. "How you interact with your significant other and function is something we need to evaluate as well."


    "This seems awfully like a job interview." Josh said, even though he wasn''t one being evaluated. "A weekend away to see people acting normal is a sly way to do it."


    "I''m not denying nor confirming anything." Mr. Parsons responded, "But what is said or happens here this weekend, stays here at the cabin. You have nothing to lose and a lot to gain."


    I sat there, nursing what was left of my potatoes. On the outside, I looked calm and ready for anything. Yet on the inside, I was going over everything I knew about what went on at the office the last few weeks. It made no sense. My source in H.R. hasn''t received any transfer requests or papers of resignation. As far as I knew there were no new positions opening up. So what were we all being evaluated for. The fact that our spouses or significant others were here could only mean one thing: a new office overseas. It mean we''d have to move, and that meant it might cause troubles at home if everyone is not onboard. I''d have to look online to see if there was any truth to that after supper.


    "Are you alright, Rachel?" Mr. Parsons asked, noticing i was spaced out a bit.


    "I''m fine," I replied, smiling back. "My mind wandered a bit."


    "Well, I do apologize for the secrecy." the boss continued, "But this is a process that my wife and I not only feel is fair, but will allow us to dig deep in our search."


    "I can only speak for myself," Nicholas said, "But I welcome a challenge."


    "As do I, Sir." Angie agreed. "I am eager to get started."


    "What about you, Rachel?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "I usually don''t like surprises." I admitted, which was true. I normally like to prepare for interviews and have a strategy going into them. Springing this on us had the feel of a shit teacher tossing out a pop quiz of the class. Total chicken shit move. "Yet if everyone else is alright with it, as long as we all have an even playing field... I can dig it."


    "Great!" Mr. Parson said, "Then let''s do the first question before dessert."


    I tensed up a bit, bracing myself for the questions to start. Jimbo could tell what I was feeling as he was sitting beside me, and he reached over and took my hand in his. He didn''t say anything but he didn''t have to. I could tell in his eyes that he knew how I really felt. While I was being blindsided with a surprise test, I wasn''t alone and I had someone there to support me. What Mr. Parsons didn''t know was my fiance was a very competitive man, and he would try to win this evaluation, even if he wasn''t actually eligible for the prize. It''s just how he was wired, and he was going to stick it to his opponents if necessary. I smiled as I understood his gesture and appreciated it.


    "Bring it on, Sir." I said with a warm smile.

 15. Joshua

    I sat there and listened carefully as Mr. Parsons explained what was going on. That everyone would be asked questions, as part of an evaluation. For what, I had no bloody idea. Was he considering a promotion? That was quite possible, but then why the secrecy? Inviting up significant others had to be a part of it, or why bother asking up to make the trip. While part of me was curious and even intrigued, another part of me was rather annoyed about the games. I could tell Angie was concerned, as she took my hand in hers and squeezed it a bit. She only did that when she was nervous and that got my back up as well. As Mr. Parsons was explaining himself, I leaned over and kissed Angie on the cheek, but whispered in her ear as I pulled away.


    "I''m going to be the bad cop," I softly suggested.


    Angie didn''t respond, but instead uncrossed but then crossed them again, which I already knew was a signal she''d send to me to let me know she understood. Angie and I had an array of small gestures that we had been using for years, and developed over time with practice. The key was to make sure the timing was right with the situation, and that gestures were not misunderstood. Being the "Bad Cop" was also another code that Angie and I used. It meant that if I felt she was in trouble at any time during the exercise, that I would aggressively step in and even be a human shield if necessary. Once we were on the same page, I went back to listening to Mr. Parsons give his long and bloated monologue. For a guy who was talking so much, he wasn''t really sharing anything new. He was keeping his cards very close to his chest.


    "Alright then," Mr. Parson said, looking down at everyone. "Let''s start off with something simple. Where do you guys see yourself in five years?"


    "In a fucking mirror." I called out.


    While some people at the table looked back at me with stunned expressions on their faces, Jimbo replied with a bellowing laugh.


    "He beat me to it by seconds." He said, still giggling to himself.


    Mr. Parsons on the other hand was still standing there, now with a stern look on his face.


    "Was that necessary?" he asked.


    "Yes, it was." I answered, looking just as serious. "If you want a specific answer, then I suggest you ask a specific question. If you''re going to waste our time with these general, half assed, open ended questions, then I will continue to give vague, smart ass answers."


    "Is that so?" Mr. Parsons then asked.


    "Oh yes, it is so." I answered, stating the obvious.


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    "Alright," Mr. Parsons said, "So you don''t look ahead to the future? Make plans?"


    "There''s nothing wrong with that," I countered, "But if you focus too much on it, you miss out on what''s happening right now, which is just as important. As a wise man once said ''Yesterday is history and tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That''s why it is called the present.''"


    "That''s a nice quote," Mr. Parsons admitted, "Who said that?"


    "I don''t know its origin," I admitted, "But I heard it from Master Oogway."


    "Master who?" Nicholas asked, unfamiliar with the name.


    Jimbo laughed again, as he was familiar with the name. "Kung Fu Panda... I watched that movie over a hundred times with my nephews."


    "An underrated film in my opinion," I added.


    "Oh, I agree." Jimbo concurred.


    "Okay, that''s enough." Mr. Parsons said, not liking the direction the conversation had quickly taken. "I was trying to start off with simple inquiries to ease into the conversation, but clearly the table is not in the mood for small talk. Would you prefer to jump to something more complicated?"


    "We know how to swim," Nicholas added, "Let''s jump right into the deep end."


    "Fair enough," Mr. Parsons said, "Let''s start off with the kingdom of Saudia Arabia."


    "What about it?" I asked.


    "Your views on the nation in general." He asked, looking at me.


    "I don''t like them." I honestly spat out.


    "Okay, why not?" Mr. Parsons said, prodding for more details.


    "They''re a cartel," Jimbo said, "But instead of drugs, their product of choice is oil."


    "They''re an archaic group of sexist pigs," Angie said, taking over. "We should cut ties with those ignorant warmongers, and condemn them for their atrocious human rights record and the unnecessary bombing of Yemen."


    "They treat women like cattle," Rachel added.


    "That''s not true," Jimbo countered, "Cattle are treated with far more respect than women. I don''t see cows or other livestock being covered with tarps."


    "Let''s not forget their atrocious treatment of the press," Nicholas continued, "Didn''t they send a hit squad to murder a critical writer who worked for the Washington Post in Turkey and then try to cover it up?"


    "State sanctioned murder in the first degree." Jimbo added, "I''d call them savages, but that would be an insult to cavemen. These people are sick, demented, psychopaths who just happen to be wealthy out of sheer luck. Where would they be if those massive oil wells weren''t conveniently underneath their feet?"


    "Probably herding goats," Rachel surmised.


    "Well then," Mr. Parson said, taken back by the hostility. "We''re off to a rocky start."


    "I hope whatever your evaluating us for has nothing to do with those ignorant bastards." Angie added, clearing abandoning the plan to be the good cop. "Because I''d rather quit than go anywhere near those sexist, homophobic assholes."


    "Same here," Rachel concurred.


    "Ditto." Nicholas chimed in.


    "Well," Mrs. Parson said, sporting a grin on her surprised face. "This is interesting to say the least. Don''t hold back here people, tell us how you really feel."

 16. Mr. Parsons

    I could tell right off the bat that the discussion I had planned was going to be a tad more combative than I had anticipated. Usually it wasn''t the employees who dictated the direction these powwows would take, but rather their significant others. The two that showed up were fierce, competitive men. Joshua didn''t want to show it as much, but Jimbo was the alpha male through and through. He didn''t give a shit who knew it either, as his chest would puff out anytime he felt his manhood was being even remotely challenged. This was going to lead to some heated exchanges that was for sure, as I hadn''t seen that kind of hostility than what was tossed my way when I brought up Saudi Arabia. I wasn''t expecting that kind of venom, but to be honest the Kingdom wasn''t winning the PR battle at the moment, and this was a small sample of the current anger being tossed their way for various reasons.


    "How about we expand on this vibe," I suggested, as I was eager to poke the bear and see what might shake out next. "Someone tell me an opinion they hold that is not popular."


    "Define not popular." Josh requested.


    "What I mean is a view that you''re afraid to speak about," I explained, "Something that you fear to speak out about because people would think less of you. I''m not trying to provoke you guys, just trying to see where you guys stand before I ask more focused questions."


    "So opinions that we think are true," Nicholas said, "But are too shy to admit to... like if we subscribe to any particular conspiracy theories?"


    "It doesn''t have to be that out there," I answered, "Who wants to go first?"


    There was a short pause, as the five guests at the table didn''t know where to start.


    "Come on, Jim." Rachel said, nudging him. "You have a ton of these stashed away. You talk about them all the time."


    "Alright," Jimbo said, as he slowly took a deep breath. "I think Helen Keller is a fraud."


    "That''s one I haven''t heard," I said, smiling at the thought. "Explain."


    "Well," Jimbo said, as he sat up in his chair, "If we are to believe history, Helen lost her hearing and her sight when she was less than two years of age. They say she was only 19 months of age when she became impaired. Even if she knew a few words by then, she was barely educated and you expect me to believe that she could earn a B.A. without sight or hearing? No way, I call bullshit."


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    "So how do you think she learned how to do all that?" Angie asked.


    "One of two ways," Jimbo replied, "Either she only lost one sense, and faked the loss of the other or her teacher did all the work for her. The people of her time were too trusting, to naive, and too dumb to see through it."


    "That''s interesting," I said, amused by the theory.


    "I think I understand where you''re going." Nicholas said, "If someone tried to pull this off today, the internet would expose it rather quickly. Because it was in the late 1800s and early 1900s, that why Keller and her teacher were able to pull off this clear swindle. I''m sold."


    "What about you Nicolas?" I asked him. "What view do you hold that is seen as controversial?"


    Nicholas paused for a moment. "9/11 was an inside job."


    There was an odd groan, and even a few laughs, but I wanted to make sure Nicholas'' views were respected.


    "A lot of people suspect that," I added, "But there is no proof to back up that claim."


    "Hard to find proof when it was destroyed," Nicholas replied, "All the scrap metal was destroyed before any investigator could go through it. Typical cover up."


    "That''s just a conspiracy theory," Angie blurted out.


    "So was the Gulf of Tonkin," Jimbo said, "And that one turned out to be true, and so have a few others in the last decade."


    "That''s a good point," I concurred, "We can''t dismiss something so quickly."


    "Look at it this way," Jimbo continued, "Are these the luckiest terrorists in the history of terrorism, or was someone asleep at the wheel that day, or was someone ordered to stand down? I have a hard time believing that NORAD would allow anything to fly around unchecked for two hours. The one day the shit hits the fan and they respond like the keystone cops? No was in hell I''m not buying that load of bull."


    "I also have a hard time with buildings that defy the laws of physics." Nicholas agreed, "Buildings are not capable of collapsing at free fall speeds. Not without assistance, such as demo charges."


    "The buildings were hit by planes!" Mrs. Parsons retorted, "That was totally unexpected."


    "Not if you read books by Tom Clancy or Stephen King," Josh added, "They came up with the idea of using commercial airliners as weapons decades before that fateful day."


    "Do you know what I think is the real conspiracy theory?" Jimbo continued, "That nineteen men with box cutters were able to beat the best defense system in modern human history. That someone expects me to actually believe that this badass military failed at every level possible and all on the same day? That the only three buildings in modern history to ever collapse as a result of fire damage all fell on the same damn day? No way, that is total fucking grade A, genuine bullshit right there."


    "Don''t hold back Jimbo," I said, taken back by his passion for the subject. "Tell us how you really feel."


    "I''m good for now," Jimbo replied, "Let someone else take a turn."

 17. Angie

    After Jimbo refused to comment further, I realized it was time for some of the women to speak up. After thinking for a while what I wanted to say, and rifling through several ideas in my head, I decided to chip in and represent.


    "Feminism is sexist." I said to break the silence.


    "Really?" Mrs. Parsons replied, resisting the urge to defend it. "What brings you to that conclusion?"


    "I really should rephrase," I added, "Modern feminism is sexist."


    "Oh, this should be interesting." Jimbo said, shifting in his seat to get comfortable.


    "Feminism of the past used to be about equal rights," I started to explain, "About just wanting the same chances and opportunities. Now it''s about women and women only. Men are being looked down at as inferior, and today''s feminists are hateful bigots who are no longer interested in being equals. They''ve become the same power hungry assholes we''ve been fighting against for the last several decades. Today''s feminists have turned into the sexist jerks we started off opposing in the beginning."


    "So what you''re trying to say is you''re not a feminist?" Rachel asked.


    "No, I''m not." I replied, "Because today''s feminists are sexist, man hating, bigots."


    "Then what do you see yourself as?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "We''re humanists." Josh said, stepping in. "An ethical stance that emphasizes the value of all human beings, individually and collectively. We also prefers critical thinking and evidence over the blind acceptance of dogma and superstition."


    "Dogma and superstition," Nicholas repeated, "So you mean religion?"


    "Yes," I confirmed, "To us, religion is nothing more than unproven dogmas and superstitions."


    "Wow," Josh said, impressed with the statement himself. He looked like he wanted to add something, but held off. If he had bit his tongue any harder, it would have started to bleed.


    "Some people take comfort with religion," Mr. Parsons countered, "It helps them live a good life and treat others with respect."


    "Those are not the people I have an issue with," I replied, ready to handle the deflection. I had heard this excuse often and had practice countering it. "It''s those who are trying to legislate their faith and force onto others, which conflicts with the rules set forth in the constitution that I have a serious issue with."


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    "Doesn''t god''s law overrule the laws of man?" Rachel asked.


    "No, and God himself agrees with our constitution," Josh answered, "In the book of Matthew he even tells people to not promote religion and keep it to themselves. Even God thinks you shouldn''t ram religion down other people''s throats and yet they still try."


    "If God truly had an issue with things like abortion and homosexuality," I continued, "They He knows where to find us to let us know how He feels. When He didn''t approve of what Egypt was doing he kind of showed up there. Not so much today, so either He doesn''t care, or doesn''t exist and the story of Moses is man made mythology."


    "So do you want religion to be outlawed?" Mrs. Parsons asked.


    "Of course not," I answered, "Such a task is impossible anyway."


    "Even if we disproved all religion," Josh added, "That doesn''t mean we do away with it. Even if the bible is proven to be fake, that doesn''t mean it can''t serve an educational purpose. It can still be regarded as mythology like the Greek Gods, or historic literature like Beowulf. It would still have a place in the system and it should as it''s a part of our culture and history, regardless of your views about it."


    "That an interesting way to look at it," Mr. Parsons replied. "Everything has value?"


    "Yes, everything." I confirmed.


    "What about Mein Kampf?" Jimbo countered, "What value could that possibly have?"


    "It provides a lesson," Josh responded, "It tells us how evil a person can become if they let their hatred and paranoia fully control their life. Another lesson is how dangerous one can also become when they think god is on their side."


    "I thought Hitler and the Nazis were atheists," Rachel said, "Weren''t they?"


    "No, not even close." Josh said, almost disgusted by the assumption. "If you actually read Mein Kampf, he''s quoted as to be doing god''s work several times. And if the Nazis were all atheists, then why were they wearing belts that had Gott mit uns written on them, which translates into god is with us? This whole atheist bullshit was propaganda spread post war."


    "You''re quite obsessed with the history," Mrs. Parsons added.


    "If we fail to learn from history," Josh said, "We are then doomed to repeat it. I don''t think any of us wish to see another world war anytime soon."


    "I certainly don''t," Jimbo agreed, "Our tiny wars are nothing compared to what a world war would feel like. Compared to those great wars, our current wars on drugs and terror are minuscule and insignificant. While I''m sure the war machine would love it, it''s our blood that has to be paid, and I''d rather not."


    "That was pretty deep," Mrs. Parsons said as she stood up from the table. "Let''s clear all this up and get dessert out here."


    "I don''t know," I replied as the meal was quite filling already, "I might have to pass."


    "Live a little girl," Rachel said, "I''ll split one with you."


    "Alright," I said as I caved, "But make sure you eat your fair share."


    "It''s just one dessert," Nicolas said, sighing. "You won''t gain ten pounds from it."


    "Let''s take a break," Mr. Parsons reminded them, "Smoke if you have them, but do it outside."

 18. Jimbo

    After listening to the verbal jousting that had been going on, I was relieved to hear Mr. Parsons tell everyone to take a break and scatter. I took full advantage of it and went outside to the back deck, to light up a half smoked stogie that I had stashed in the front pocket of my dress shirt. It took a few puffs to get it lit, and I stood there and smoked it in peace until two more people came out to join me. Angie came out to light her own smoke, while Nicholas came out to get away from everyone else, or at least that''s what my guess was since he didn''t smoke anything.


    "You okay, man?" I asked Nick, seeing he was a little flustered.


    "I''ll be fine," Nicholas replied, "Just a little tired."


    "This circle jerk won''t last for long," I reassured him, "Not with how combative it''s gotten."


    "You''d be surprised," Angie countered, "Mr. Parsons doesn''t like people who agree with everything he says. He prefers to be in the room with smart people who disagree with him. He enjoys being a gladiator in the arena of lively debate."


    "Does he now?" I said, slightly intrigued. I did also consider the source, thinking Angie might be daring me to challenge him too harshly, which could cost Rachel some points. It wasn''t something I was willing to put past the sneaky bitch.


    "We hit him with some doozies," Angie continued, "And he seemed more amused than offended. I just with I knew what this whole charade was about."


    "It''s a promotion," Nicholas answered, "It''s a big one too."


    "Does that seem fair?" Angie asked, "That you know what this is about and we don''t?"


    "If that''s true," I interjected, "Then why would he tell us now and give up his advantage?"


    "I don''t want it," Nicholas said, "I''m happy where I am and don''t want the additional hassle that comes with it. My life is too fucked up as it is right now, I don''t need more chaos."


    "I get it, brother." I said, patting Nick on the shoulder. "Take things easy and let everyone else bloody themselves up for the chance to climb the ladder."


    "Well, if it is true." Angie said, smiling. "Then that means one less person to beat for it. Thanks for the heads up."


    She put our her cigarette, and walked back into the house.


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    "What a cunt," Nick said, almost regretting what he had told her.


    "Don''t worry about it," I said, snickering as I agreed with his assessment. "I''ll make sure everyone else knows so she won''t try to have an advantage going forward."


    "I''ll do one better," Nick said, "I''m going to tell everyone when we go back in. Make sure everyone is on a even playing field."


    "That works too." I said, liking this idea. "Your boss might not like having his rug pulled out from under him. He might want to share this on his own time."


    "Fuck him and his games," Nick said, "Fuck him for not being up front and honest about it."


    "Well this evening is going to be a real clusterfuck," I said, snicking again. "I can''t wait to see this pileup. He won''t fire you over this, will he?"


    "I don''t give a shit if he does," Nick confessed, "He knows the guy who owns that Ferrari will hire me on the spot if he''s stupid enough to let me go. So I doubt it."


    "I love it," I said, "I''ll have your back if things get too rough."


    "Cheers," Nick said, "See you in there."


    After Nick left the patio, I could see Rachel walking back into the living room from the bathroom and she looked out at me. She hated it when I smoked my cigars, but this time my habit had helped me gain some key intel for her. I waved for her to come out and join me, and after a little reluctance she came out to the patio.


    "What the fuck do you want?" She asked.


    "Nick just dropped a bomb out here," I told her, "And he''s going to drop it again when we all go back in after this break."


    "What do you mean?" Rachel asked.


    "He thinks this whole thing is about a promotion," I continued, "That you''re all being evaluated for a position that appears to be very higher than where you are now."


    "How does Nick know this?" She asked me.


    "He didn''t say," I answered, "But I have a feeling he''s going to let all be known when we gather back up and he spills it for everyone to know."


    "Why would he do that?" Rachel asked.


    "Whatever the job is, he doesn''t want it." I said, smiling at the thought, "But he''s going to toss a monkey wrench into your boss'' plans. It''s going to be fucking nuts."


    "Alright," Rachel said, seeming to mental prep for the shit storm to come. "Try to hang back this time, and let Nick do his thing. Once we know what we''re dealing with, we can form a plan."


    "What for?" I asked.


    "You never know," Rachel said, "I might not want this either. Until we know what we''re dealing with here, we need to sit back and chill."


    "Alright," I said, even though chill was something I had a hard time doing.


    "Thanks for the heads up," Rachel said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Finish that terrible thing up and get back in here sooner rather than later. Okay?"


    "Yes, Ma''am." I said, giving her a half assed salute.


    I watched Rachel walked back into the house, taking a moment to admire her ass as she did, and then took a few more puffs of my stogie before putting it out. There was over a quarter of it left, and I''d probably finish it later in the night as I stashed it back from whence it came. I walked back into the house, actually looking forward to Round two.

 19. Nicholas

    After speaking to Jimbo and Angie on the back porch, I walked back into the house and b-lined for the bathroom beside the kitchen. I locked the door behind me and took a moment to myself in the small two piece, powder room sized bathroom. After splashing a little water into my face, I was ready to return to the table and continue the job interview that only I knew we were participating in. I didn''t it was fair of me to be the only one who knew that, so I was intent to return to the table to make sure it was an even playing field. When I left the bathroom, Jimbo and Rachel were already seated and eager to get back to it. I could tell by Rachel''s new demeanor that she knew, but I never asked Jimbo to keep it to himself. In a few minutes it wasn''t going to matter anyway.


    "Excuse me," I said, still standing to get everyone''s attention. "Before we get started again, I need to get something off my chest."


    Mr. Parsons seemed a surprised as he sat down, but nodded. "Go ahead, Nick. What''s on your mind?"


    "Well, I know why we''re all here getting the third degree." I started, "And the fact that I''m the only one who knows this gives me an unfair advantage. I think everyone here should know that Christopher handed in his resignation last Monday, and that will leave the company short a C.F.O. in a few weeks."


    "How did you know that?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "I learned through a second hand source," I said, but it was a bald faced lie. "I knew about it days before he handed in his resignation."


    That last part was the truth, but it didn''t matter as the cat was clearly out of the bag now.


    "If this really is a process to chose a new CFO," Mr. Parsons inquired, "Then why tell anyone and give up your advantage?"


    "While I''m honored to be considered," I answered, "I don''t want the job. I prefer to stay where I am now, because right now my job is the most stable part of my life. Right now I prefer to keep it that way."


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Mrs. Parsons asked, "How chaotic are other parts of your life to say something like that?


    "I don''t think Nicholas wants to air all his laundry out here," Angie said, interrupting the line of thought. "If he doesn''t want the position, I think we need to respect his wishes no matter what his reasons happen to be."


    "Says the person whose odds just increased," Jimbo snapped at her, his voice cracking like a whip. "Of course you want to respect his decision to not stand in your way."


    "Hey, that''s uncalled for." Josh said, as he was clearly offended by the accusation, irregardless of how true it might have been.


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    "Hey guys, chill." I said, seeing where this was going. "She''s right, I''m not ready to share what''s going on in my life."


    "Very well," Mr. Parsons said, as he stood up. "I''m not sure how you found out, but that''s something we can talk about later when there are less ears around."


    "If you don''t want me the rest of the process," I continued, "I can leave tomorrow morning."


    "That won''t be necessary," Mr. Parson said, dismissing the comment. "While I am looking for a new CFO, part of this trip is still to relax and have a little fun. I was trying to make the process a little more fun and mysterious while trying to find the right person for the job."


    "Thanks," I said as I sat back down at the table. I didn''t want to say anymore at that point, especially considering I had already said enough.


    "So what he said is true?" Angie asked, "You''re considering the three of us for CFO?"


    "Yes, it is." Mr. Parsons answered, "But now it''s between the two of you now. By the time this weekend is up, I will offer the job to either you or Rachel."


    "Why is Christopher leaving?" Rachel asked, shocked to hear the news. Jimbo did tell her it was about a promotion, but he didn''t know for what position. She was shocked to hear that he would even consider leaving, let along hand in his notice. It just didn''t seem like him.


    "He didn''t say very much about it, and the letter was quite vague." Mr. Parsons answered, "All he told me was that it was time for him to move on, take on new challenges, and other bullshit. I have a feeling he was made a better offer than what he currently had, something he assumed I couldn''t match."


    "If that''s true," Angie said, "Then we''ll hear what it is sooner rather than later."


    "What makes you think I even care?" Rachel said as she stood up, "I don''t approve of this covert attempt to blindside us with a competition for such a prestigious position. For that reason, maybe I don''t want it either!"


    Without giving anyone a chance to respond, Rachel stormed out of the room and up the stairs. Jimbo was as shocked as anyone else, but he sat there in silence unsure what the hell happened and how he should react to it.


    There were several things going through Angie''s mind at that moment, I could tell from across the table. If she tried to take the win by default, that might lower her stock in Mr. Parsons'' eyes. Rachel''s act of integrity might also give Rachel a rise in stock and make her a favorite. This being said, I think Angie had only one option given the situation but based on her body language she was internally fighting over her options. Finally she stood up and looked back at her boss.


    "I happen to agree with Rachel," Angie declared, doing her best to make it sound believable. "I don''t want the job this way either. It doesn''t seem right to treat our future like a game show, and we deserve more respect for all the hard work we''ve done for you and your company."


    She then also walked out of the dining room and up the stairs to her room. The men and Mrs. Parsons all watched in stunned silence as it appeared the CFO competition went from three candidates to el zippo at the drop of a hat. I wanted to smile and even laugh at this turn of events, but I didn''t. Mr. Parsons took a sucker punch to the gut and his weekend was going down in flames. It was only the first night, and things were not going his way. All I know is that if Gerard was here to see this, he''d be laughing his ass off...

 20. Mrs. Parsons

    After the two ladies left the room, not soon after their significant others then left the table to follow them. I watched as my husband responded to their departure by walking out himself, retreating into the kitchen to collect himself. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn''t like what had just happened, as the cat was prematurely let out of the bag. I could tell he was hoping to get them to talk a bit more before letting them know his true intentions. David was in the kitchen leaning on the island trying to collect himself when I strolled in.


    "Hey you," I said as I comforted him with a half hug from behind. "You alright?"


    "I''ll be fine," he replied, taking a deep breath. "Things are just not going exactly how I planned them to."


    "When does it ever?" I countered, "Make adjustments and carry on."


    "I don''t know how," my husband said, "I didn''t expect them all to turn down the position."


    "They didn''t," I replied, "Well, I actually think Nicholas did, but the other two were clearly gestures to save face. No one likes to think they got something only because someone else turned it down. That you were not a first choice."


    "I see," David said, pondering the new data. "So you think it was just for show?"


    "I think so," I said, taking his hand into mine. "But I wouldn''t confront them about it too soon, as that will just come off as desperation on your part. Let them stew about it overnight and see who cracks first. If no one does, we''ll burn that bridge when we get to it."


    "I like it," David concurred, "We''ll let it rest for the night and move on tomorrow."


    "They''re calling for good weather too," I informed him, "It will be a nice day to hit the trails, take a nice hike into the mountains."


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    "Picnic at our favorite peak?" my husband suggested.


    "I was thinking of that too," I admitted, "Do you think the crew will be able to keep up with us?"


    "Only one way to find out," David said, grinning. "You know how I love dragging people up there."


    "Oh I do," I recalled, "I''ll remember to pack the first aid kit."


    "Should I tell them?" David asked.


    "No, let them be." I suggested, "They''re still a little shaken, so let''s not stress them out any further. Let them sleep on it and we''ll surprise them in the morning."


    At that exact moment when I made that last statement, Nicholas came into the kitchen with some dishes in his hands. He was making an effort to help David clear the table.


    "Sorry," Nicholas started, "Am I interrupting something?"


    "Probably," I replied, "But we''re done anyway. Right, dear?"


    "Yes, we are." David said turning to Nicolas. "Is that the last of them?"


    "Yes, I got them all." Nicholas confirmed.


    "Well, we have a rule that covers this situation." I informed Nicholas, "Those who cook do not clean. You two can take care of this."


    "Yes, Ma''am." Nicholas said, turning to David. "I wash and you dry?"


    I left the men to take care of the dishes and strolled into the dining room to confirm that Nicholas had cleared the rest of the dishes as he had indicated. He even gave the table a good one over for good measure, which was nice of him. I walked into the living room and there was no one in there as well. Odds are the other men were upstairs, stroking the egos of their significant others and letting them know they weren''t alone during these trying times. I wasn''t in the mood to check on any of them so I walked over to one of the couches and picked up a poetry book from the coffee table and just flipped to a random page. After reading few pages, I put the book down and then walked over to my stereo, as I was in the mood to listen to something. I ran my finger across the compact discs I had lined up on the shelf beside it, and came across on that put a smile on my face. I took the disc out and put it on. It wasn''t too loud, but at the same time it wasn''t too soft either. I laid down on the couch and listened to the mellow tune as it bellowed out. I didn''t give a fuck who heard it, this was my house. At the same time I was sending a coded message to David to let him know how I was feeling. He could always tell how I was feeling based on what music I listened to. I was curious to how this was being received as he did the dishes with Nicholas. Rather than check on them, I instead closed my eyes and hope that no one has the nerve to disturb me as I tried to relax...

 21. Rachel

    After leaving the table, I ran up the stairs and locked myself in the bedroom to make sure that no one could follow. There was a part of me that felt pleased that I stood up for myself. Something a important as a promotion to such a prestigious position in the company should be handled as if it were a joke. After all the time I had worked there, I deserved better. It just felt so tacky. I was so angry that my future was being disrespected that I suddenly found myself declaring that I also didn''t want the position, but that was clearly a lie. I do want it, but not this way. This was a legitimate fortune 500 club, and my boss was acting like this was the Apprentice. I was a clerk or a newbie right out of college. I had been working hard for Mr. Parson''s company for over twelve years and that made what he was doing out of line.


    After leaving the table, I ran up the stairs and locked myself in the bedroom to make sure that no one could follow. There was a part of me that felt pleased that I stood up for myself. Something a important as a promotion to such a prestigious position in the company should be handled as if it were a joke. After all the time I had worked there, I deserved better. It just felt so tacky. I was so angry that my future was being disrespected that I suddenly found myself declaring that I also didn''t want the position, but that was clearly a lie. I do want it, but not this way. This was a legitimate fortune 500 club, and my boss was acting like this was the Apprentice. I was a clerk or a newbie right out of college. I had been working hard for Mr. Parson''s company for over twelve years and that made what he was doing out of line.


    Then there was another part of me that was feeling something completely different: fear. I was afraid that I had just tossed away a promotion that I clearly could have used. I just disqualified myself and gave that bitch Angie a chance to win it by default. I sat on the bed and just went over the moment over and over again in my head. I started to cry and regret the fact that I chose to walk away rather than fight for the job. Was it cowardice, or a strategic fuck you to Angie? She sat there alone for a few minutes going over what she said repeatedly until there was a decent knock on her door.


    "Who is it?" I called out.


    "It''s Jim," Jimbo called out "Is it okay for me to come in?"


    "Yeah, sure." I replied, questioning whether or not I wanted to talk to anyone.


    Jimbo came through the door, but he locked it behind him so we couldn''t be interrupted. He walked into the room and rather than sit down on the bed beside me, he pulled up the chair from the corner of the room and sat down in front of me.


    "Well," Jimbo started, "What the fuck was that about?"


    "I''m sorry," I replied, "I just made a decision in the moment. I didn''t mean to give up my chance to win that promotion. I should have consulted you about it first."


    "You think?" Jimbo said, sarcastically responding. "You almost handed that cunt the promotion on a silver platter."


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    "Almost?" I repeated back to him, as I was clearly unaware of what he was talking about.


    "Angie wants the job," Jimbo explained, "But not handed down to her because someone else didn''t want it. She got mad and stormed off right after you did!"


    "It would be a hallow promotion," I said, grinning at the thought. "No one would respect her new authority and it would be a complete disaster if anyone ever found out."


    "And they would have," Jimbo said, "Cause we''d make sure they would have."


    I sat there and sucked in a deep breath. I held it for a few seconds and then slowly exhaled. I had taken a gamble and it paid off. I was hoping Angie didn''t want a hand me down. As much as she wanted the job, she didn''t want to win it that way. She wants the glory of winning it.


    "This improves our chances," I said, smiling back at Jimbo. "So what do we do now?"


    "Nothing." Jimbo answered, "Everyone has called it a night. Mr. Parsons was pretty shaken up by the walk out of all three candidates. He never suspected that so it would be best if you stay up here and let them sweat it out."


    "Alright," I said, laying down on the bed, and taking another deep breath. "That was intense."


    "You''re telling me!" Jimbo said, "I nearly choked on what I was eating when you started to say you didn''t want the job. I know you did and that nearly floored me."


    "Sorry about that," I said, as I had regretted it the moment I made it up to the bedroom. "We should have talked about it before rolling the dice."


    "I appreciate that," Jimbo said, "But the timing was perfect. I''m no sure if that would have worked at any other time. Now we should focus about how you''re going to approach tomorrow. I would recommend being humble but still a sliver defiant. Keep the strength you''ve shown, but be a little modest and humble. Just a tad, and that will floor him again."


    "Don''t you think that might come off as desperate?" I asked him.


    "Only if you apologize for everything," Jimbo explained, "Don''t apologize for what you did, merely how you did it. Let him know that you understand your message should have been made privately and not in front of others. Stroke the man''s ego, but at the same time stand up for your own actions and not back down."


    "That''s a fine line to walk," I said, thinking about it.


    "It is, but you can do it." Jimbo said, "I''m confident you can pull it off, especially when you consider how perfectly you nailed that exit tonight?"


    "How did Angie do with hers?" I asked, curious about it.


    "It was so lame," Jimbo said, laughing. "Your exit was so epic that her was going to disappoint no matter how hard she tried, so she appeared to not even bother. She said her peace and walked out too. Your exit is the one they''re talking about, and Angie''s was pathetic."


    "Good," I said, smiling at the thought. "That bitch can try to copy me, but she''s got nothing."


    "I know it," Jimbo agreed, "You''re the real deal. She''s just a fucking brown nosing wannabe."


    "I bet she''s a bad lay too." I said, enjoying talking smack behind her back.


    "No doubt," Jimbo concurred, "You can tell Josh is frustrated. I''m sure he rubs one out at least two times a week."


    "We don''t have that problem," I said to him seductively.


    "I''m well aware of that too," Jimbo said as he stood up and took his shirt of and then immediately hopped into bed with me.

 22. Joshua

    I watched with surprise as Rachel stormed up the stairs and went to her room. Part of me wanted to celebrate, as the candidates for CFO had dropped from three to just one by process of self elimination. I was about to say something glib when Angie stood up.


    "I happen to agree with Rachel," Angie declared, doing her best to make it sound believable.


    I was watching her with awe and even though I wanted to interrupt her, there was another part of me that knew she had already made up her mind. There was nothing I could say at that point that was going to stop her, so I said nothing and just listened.


    "I don''t want the job this way either." Angie said, even though I didn''t honestly believe it. "It doesn''t seem right to treat our future like a game show, and we deserve more respect for all the hard work we''ve done for you and your company."


    With that said, Angie also left the table and took the exact same exit that Rachel had only moments before. I tried my best to not look surprised, but odds are I was failing to convincingly hide the truth. She had stunned everyone with her response to Rachel''s departure and I was unable to hide my reaction to it. Seconds later we all looked back at Mr. Parsons who was still standing at the head of the table. He was uncomfortably quiet.


    "Excuse me, gentlemen." Mr. Parsons said, "I need a moment."


    I watched as Mr. Parsons took what was left on the table and retreated into the kitchen. Mrs. Parsons was taken back by his departure as well, following him into the kitchen to check up on him. I was tempted to follow him into the kitchen, maybe even apologize for being a stubborn ass, but his wife beat me to it. I felt it as best to let her do the talking to Mr. Parsons, rather than myself. She knew her husband far better, and how to get his mind to a better place. So I remained at the table and looked at the only other two men left, as Nicholas and Jimbo looked back at me.


    "Well now," Jimbo started, "That escalated rather quickly."


    "You think?" I asked him, almost laughing. "I had no idea that''s how it would end."


    "At least he can''t fire us for what we said," Jimbo added.


    "Speak for yourself," Nicholas said, "I can still be let go."


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    "You still might be," I added, "That was one hell of a firecracker you set off in here."


    "I''m not that worried," Nicholas said, "I get offered jobs all the time. This company needs me far more than I do them, but I really don''t want any more changes in my life. That''s why I don''t want this damn promotion!"


    I sat up in my chair as I heard a tone that sounded eerily familiar to me.


    "How long has it been?" I suddenly asked him.


    "Since when?" Nicholas asked.


    "Since you separated from your wife." I replied.


    Nicholas shifted in his seat, not really wanting to answer but to me that was his answer. It was still pretty fresh cause he didn''t want to talk about it.


    "Not that long I take it," I said, sitting back in my chair. "I''ve been there man. I got divorced several years ago and it took a very, very long time for me to get anywhere near over it. That''s also after countless hours with a shrink and even group sessions."


    "See," Jimbo said as he sat up and pointed, "I told you the group stuff helps."


    "He''s right," I concurred, "It doesn''t matter who you talk to as long as you have someone to unload what''s bothering you off your shoulders. It will not only make you feel better but your other stresses like work will feel lighter too."


    "Thanks guys," Nicholas said, "but unless you want to join me in the land of the dumped... I suggest you check on your better halves before you join their shit lists."


    "That''s a good idea," Jimbo said, standing up. "I''m outta here. Later dweebs!"


    I stood up but I didn''t leave as Jimbo was already halfway up the stairs.


    "You alright, man?" I asked Nicholas.


    "No," Nicholas honestly answered, "I''m a damn mess."


    "Makes sense why you don''t want a new job," I said, "That job right now is the only stable thing you have going right now."


    "It is," Nicholas agreed, "And I very much prefer to keep it, and hopefully I haven''t buggered it up after tossing my boss under the bus."


    "He''ll be fine," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And you will be too. No matter how fucked up the break is, patience and time will make it better."


    "How long did it take before you got over it?" Nicholas asked.


    "I didn''t," I honestly answered, "And I never will. You might not either, but the key is to accept it and learn from it. Use it to make you a better man. Accept the lesson, not the failure. I realize how cliche this shit sounds, but it''s the honest truth. You''re just not ready to hear it, let alone accept it... but you will eventually."


    "Alright," Nicholas said, "Thanks."


    "I have to get going," I said, as I backed away from the table towards the stairs, "While I still have a lady myself. If you want to talk about, hit me up tomorrow morning."


    "Okay, I will." Nicholas said, "See you tomorrow."

 23. Mr. Parsons

    After my wife had left the kitchen and went back upstairs to our bedroom, I preferred to remain in the kitchen and clean the dishes from supper. I was washing dishes and working on clean up when Nicholas strolled into the room.


    "Hey," Nicholas said.


    "Hello, Nic." I said to him, not making eye contact. "Is there anyone lingering in the living room?"


    "Not anymore, Sir." Nicholas answered, "Josh and Jimbo went upstairs to speak with their better halves."


    "What about you?" I asked him, "Do you plan on speaking to your better half before bed?"


    Nicholas stood there and took a deep breath. "No, I''m afraid not."


    I stopped doing the dishes. "And why is that?"


    "She doesn''t want to talk to me, Sir." Nic replied.


    "What makes you believe that?" I asked him.


    "Exhibit A would be the divorce papers she had Fed-Ex deliver a few days ago." Nicholas said, "Which also came with a restraining order."


    I stood there for a moment and then deeply sighed, "I''m very sorry to hear that. I can''t imagine what you''re going through."


    "Thank you," Nicholas said, pausing for a moment. "You need help?"


    "Appreciated, but I got this." I said, gesturing to a chair by the island in the kitchen. "Take a seat and keep me company though."


    Nicholas looked very hesitant, but complied none the less. I could tell he wasn''t comfortable with the talk we were about to have, like a child that expected to be scolded for something he said or did. That couldn''t be further from the truth, but I did a few more dishes and let him sweat it out before letting him off the hook.


    "Just to let you know," I started, as I paused for a moment. "I''m not angry at you. I admire your honesty and your refusal to take advantage of your insider knowledge. You had an inside scoop and refused to cheat your way to what could have been an easy win. That''s not something to get upset about, it''s something to admire and respect."


    "Thanks," Nicholas said, as he seemed to relax a bit more.


    "I''ve seen some people do the opposite," I also added, "And when I found out, that person was dismissed with prejudice. I think you totally made the right and a classy call here. "


    "I appreciate that," Nicholas replied, "Though I kind of feel responsible for what''s going on."


    "Really?" I said, as I stopped doing the dishes and put the sponge down. "Explain."


    "I''m the reason Chris resigned," Nicholas started, "I didn''t divulge any company secrets, as all I did was tell the truth about what great people we work with and for.


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    "You praised what a great person Chris was?" I asked.


    "That''s it," Nicholas confirmed, "I was just trying to gloat about one of my great bosses, and someone heard that and made him an offer."


    I paused for a moment. "It''s Gerard, isn''t it? He made Chris an offer he couldn''t refuse."


    "It was," Nicholas said, feeling a tad ashamed, "To be perfectly honest, he offered me the job first cause he was really enjoying us hanging out so much. I declined for the same reason, that being I needed the same job for stability."


    "At least you''re consistent," I said, taking a sip of my drink beside the dishes. "I appreciate the loyalty, but I learned the hard way that working with friends isn''t such a good idea."


    "That''s also another reason I was hesitant," Nicholas agreed. "I don''t want to ruin our friendship, especially since I''m already pushing my luck crashing in his spare room."


    "Hold on," I called out, "You''re living with Gerard right now?"


    "Yeah," Nicholas said, "I''ve been there for about four months now."


    "Oh, that explains a lot." I said, thinking about it. "His company has seen a spike in quality and activity in the last few months. I think that new gusto comes from you, having someone new to speak with and bounce ideas off of."


    "I don''t talk about my work," Nicholas assured him, "And he''s respectful enough not to ask."


    "That''s good to hear," I said, as I resumed the dishes, "But I have a request of you."


    "Sure," Nicholas said, eager to please. "What did you have in mind?"


    "There''s a guy in development," I started, as I recalled a meeting with the department head. "He''s had a rough year and we''ve even considered letting him go despite his raw talent.


    "Okay," Nicholas said, as he was now curious. "What would you like me to do?"


    "I''d like you to spend some time with him." I suggested. "Take him out for lunch, and we''ll make sure he''s a member of your next team for a conference. I''d cover expenses, of course."


    "That''s an odd request," Nicholas said, "What are you hoping for?"


    "This guy reminds me of Gerard," I explained to him, "Hang out with him long enough and you''ll see the resemblances. Maybe you can be a muse for him to and improve his quality of work like you''ve done for Gerard the last few months."


    "I can certainly try," Nicholas said, "I''d be happy to do what I can to help."


    "Good man," I replied, "Let''s hope your can influence similar results."


    "The only thing I can promise is my best effort," Nicholas added, "I like to see everyone where I work succeed, so I''m game to do what I can."


    "For now, I would recommend going to bed," I told him, "We''re going to have a busy morning, starting at eight, which is when my wife is going to wake everyone up."


    "Eight?" Nicholas repeated, "Why so early?"


    "I can''t tell you," I said, enjoying that I now knew more than he did. "But I can tell you to conserve your energy, because you''re going to need it."


    "Hint taken, Sir." Nicholas said, standing up from his chair, "And with that, I bid thee a good night."


    "Good night, Nic." I replied, "Sleep tight."


    I watched Nic leave the kitchen and tossed the rag I was using to clean the counter into the sink. I grabbed what was left of my drink and strolled over to the window looking out. From there I could see corner of the driveway, and the Ferrari that Nic brought with him. I stood there and admired the bright red car, remembering how much I wanted one just like it. Part of me had regrets but another part was content to just look. There were other things I life that I felt were better pursued, and that made life that much more satisfying for me. Different people meant different things to be attained. I was happy and grateful of mine, as much as Gerard was with his.


    After staring at the car for a few minutes, I finally decided to take my own advice and head for bed. My wife was going to wake everyone at eight, and everyone included me.

 24. Jimbo

    After playing around with Angie, both of us had no trouble getting to sleep. Despite getting to bed with ease, I was still the first to wake as my eyes opened just after four-thirty in the morning. As usual, I manged to slip out of bed without disturbing Rachel. She''s a sound sleeper so I rarely wake her up when crawling out but am still careful none the less. I slip into some green joggers and a black wife beater before leaving the room and going downstairs. I enter the kitchen without making a sound, moving about like a ninja to not disturb anyone. I immediately descend upon the coffee maker that I spotted the day before, and put that bad boy to work. I have no idea how many coffee drinkers are in the house, and I honestly don''t give a flying fuck as I put on a full strong pot of liquid gold. If no one else touches it, I will pick at it as the morning progresses. I jump up onto the island, and sit there with arms folded as I patiently watch my drug of choice filter into the pot one precious drop at a time. While some people would find the process annoying slow, I enjoyed it as the aroma of the java filled my nostrils with pleasure, and teased me of the joy that was to come. I know I had told Rachel the previous day that I was cutting down, but this wasn''t the right time to do it. Getting into a rage fueled by coffee withdrawal wasn''t going to help her win that promotion, so it was in her best interest if I didn''t fight the urges and just gave my body what it was craving. It was while I was waiting when someone else entered the kitchen, which surprised me a little. I didn''t hear that person coming, so he or she had similar stealth abilities. Just based on that fact alone, I shouldn''t have been surprised to see Mr. Parsons stroll in as he who was obviously drawn downstairs by the smell and the sound of the brewing pot.


    "Smells great," Mr. Parsons said as he took a peek. "Will there be enough for me too?"


    "It will be enough for everyone," I informed the bossman, "I''m brewing a full pot."


    "That''s ambitious," my host replied, "Are you sure none of that will be wasted."


    "Coffee is never wasted whenever I''m around, Sir." I informed him.


    "Duly noted," Mr. Parsons said, "That means if I ever wake up first, I can brew a full pot and not have to worry about it."


    "Early riser, Sir?" I asked him, trying my best to make small talk.


    "I am," he confirmed, "Habit I guess, but you know all about that... don''t you?"


    "Affirmative, Sir." I replied, aware of his angle. "It doesn''t matter when I go to bed, the body is just used to waking up at certain times. Old habits, but I don''t need to tell you."


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    "No, yo don''t." Mr. Parsons said, as he popped a slit bagel into the toaster.


    "Habit is hard to break," I said, not taking my eyes off my objective. "I couldn''t sleep in even if I wanted to."


    "I wish you had," Mr. Parsons said, "This morning is going to be tiring. If you didn''t sleep well last night, you will tonight... I guarantee it."


    "Is that so?" I asked him.


    "That is so." Mr. Parsons confirmed. "We have a hike planned, something we added to our schedule since everything went off track last night. You don''t have to come along if you don''t want to, but I have a feeling you won''t back down."


    "The phrase backing down isn''t recognized in my system, Sir." I confirmed for him. "I don''t mind a good hike. I usually take long walks with the dog every morning, so it''s alright. I take it this area has some nice trails to follow?"


    "Yes, it does." Mr. parsons confirmed.


    "Sounds good," I said, walking over to pour the first cup. "How do you take it, Sir?"


    "Oh," Mr. parsons said, surprised by the gesture. "Two sugars and some milk, please."


    "Here you go," I said, giving him the first cup of the day. Truth was I didn''t like skimming the top of a pot, so I always offer the first cup to others. Rachel always took it as a sweet gesture, and I could tell her boss did as well.


    Mr. Parsons took his coffee out onto the back deck, something he probably did every morning, and while I wanted to stay inside... a part of me felt it might be rude to be so anti-social during a weekend meant to help people socialize. I finished mixing up my coffee and following the bossman outside to the back deck.


    "Sorry about last night," I started, "Once I felt that meeting slip out of control, I couldn''t help but toss in my two cents."


    "It''s alright," Mr. Parsons replied, "Regardless of what happens, I still learned a great deal about everyone. My objective was to gather Intel, and I got a fair bit of it last night."


    "Fair enough," I said, sipping the hot java. "I''m sure you got a trove of good Intel."


    "I suppose you don''t approve of my methods," Mr. Parsons suggested.


    "I don''t, but this is your house... so your rules I suppose." I responded, "But if you don''t want the employees to act like children, then I suggest you stop acting like a parent."


    "I see," Mr. Parsons said, still looking away from me. "I coddle them too much?"


    "You''re trying to be their friend," I said, being brutally honest. "That isn''t possible when you''re the person that controls whether or not they remain gainfully employed. Stop worrying about their fucking feelings and do what''s best for your company and the god damn shareholders, and they''ll all do what''s best for them. Make a decision and stick to it, and they''ll all respect you more for it. But games are for kids, and they''re adults. So my real advice is grow the fuck up."


    "Don''t hold back Jim," he said, finally turning to face me. "Tell me how you really feel."

 25. Mrs. Parsons

    I had set the alarm to wake me up at a specific time, but my husband has changed it to go off a few hours later. While a part of me was worried we''d be terribly behind schedule, I remembered that David was always up early and likely took care of everything for me so I could get a few extra hours. His way of returning the favor since I did most of the cleaning the day before. I took a quick shower, and changed for the day. While I was l waking down the stairs, I could smell that breakfast was already on and being taken care of. to my surprise, Jimbo was the man behind the stove as he was working the eggs as if he was working at a diner.


    "Good morning, Jim." I said as I strolled into the kitchen.


    "Good morning, Ma''am." Jimbo replied, "There''s a pot of coffee on if you''d like to help yourself to a mug."


    "Thank you," I said, walking over to pour a cup. "Thank you for taking care of breakfast, too."


    "Happy to help," Jimbo said, still working the pan of scrambled eggs. "I''m happy to keep myself busy, especially this early in the morning when I have a lot of energy."


    As I took a seat at the table, in the middle of the kitchen, Jimbo made up a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and a few pieces of bacon and placed it down in front of me.


    "Thank you," I said to him.


    "You''re quite welcome, Ma''am." Jimbo said, walking back to the stove to keep cooking.


    "At least I know you''ll have company every morning this weekend." I said to David, well aware of his early morning habits as well.


    "Yes, that was quite a surprise." David admitted.


    "For me as well," Jimbo honestly added, "I''m used to being alone in the early hours too."


    "So," I started between a few bites of my food, "Did David tell you our plans for today?"


    "He did," Jimbo said, and it was all smiles about it. "I think a good hike is just what this group needs after what happened last night. Get them out there and working up a good sweat."


    "This is a hike, Jim. Not a job or run." I added.


    "I''m aware," Jimbo replied, "It''s the terrain, the distance, and the elevated slope that makes you sweat, not the pace."


    "We even made lunch," David informed me. "The baskets are already packed."


    "Well, thank you very much." I said, pleasantly surprised. "You boys must have been up very early today. When do you plan to wake everyone else up?"


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    "Very soon," David said, smiling. "When Jimbo is finished whipping up everyone''s grub."


    "Oh, I like the sound of this." Jimbo said, feeling a tad excited. "What''s the plan?"


    "I have a bugle." David answered.


    "Are you serious?" Jimbo said, grinning from ear to ear. "You know the bugle wake up call?"


    "I used to play it every morning," David answered, "I woke up hundreds of men every morning when I served on base."


    "I used to hate that song," Jimbo admitted, "And yet I feel excited to hear it again. I''m almost finished so go ahead, Sir. Let her rip!"


    "Alright," David said as he hopped out of his chair. "I''ll be right back."


    "That''s interesting," I said as I watched David leave the room. "I think this is the first time I''ve seen someone so excited to hear his wake up call."


    "I think I''m gonna cry." Jimbo admitted as he waited with baited breath.


    Seconds later, the sound that Jimbo hasn''t heard from in what felt like decades started to fill the first floor with a piercing and very sharp sound. David was standing at the end of the stairs, with his bugle pointing up at the bedrooms as he played what is known as the military bugle wake up call. The same song that was played on base whenever it was time for the grunts to get up and start their day. David stood there by the stairs and played the same song over and over again a few times until he started to get the movement he wanted from the people coming out of the bedrooms.


    "Breakfast is ready," David informed his workers. "Get dressed for outdoor activity and be down to eat in five minutes."


    There were a few groans but the sleepy heads returned to their room to change and comply with the orders that were given.


    "Well done, Sir." Jimbo called out, as he rather enjoyed that moment. He could only imagine how grumpy Rachel was considering that they had been up late doing exercise the night before.


    "Yes dear," I echoed, "Well done."


    "Thank you," David said as he put the bugle on top of the fridge rather than back in the garage. "Might as well leave it there for tomorrow as well."


    There was a few moans coming from the stairs, as the ladies finally came down to eat and find out what was going to happen that day. They seemed like zombies until they got some food and coffee into them. Nicolas was the last to come down but Josh was awol.


    "He''s probably still asleep." Angie replied. "He''s deaf in one ear so he probably didn''t hear the bugle."


    "That is rather convenient," Jimbo noted, "Being able to shut out the world just by putting on ear into the pillow."


    "I''ll take care of this one," I said, as I was finished my coffee anyway. "Excuse me."


    Moments later Nicholas finally emerged from his room and descended the stairs, and he looked a little rattled. Jimbo noticed this and started to pour him a cup of coffee.


    "Two sugars only, right?" Jimbo asked.


    "Perfect," Nicholas said, as he took the mug from him. "Thank you."


    "Did you sleep well?" my husband asked.


    "Up until the bugle went off," Nicholas replied, "I did not need that flashback."


    "You served too?" David asked.


    "He didn''t," Jimbo answered for him, aware he was still waking up. "We were in cadets together, and they did that to us every morning, long before the sun came up too."


    "Rain or shine," Nicholas added.


    I sat back and listened as the men talked about early mornings out in the field and they seemed to be bonding rather well for three men from completely different backgrounds. I was curious to see which of the ladies would chime in, but neither seemed to be in the mood to speak or be awake for that matter. I was hoping that would change once everyone got outside, but we''d have to wait and see.

 26. Nicholas

    I was sound asleep in my bed when that blasted bugle started to blare at the bottom of the stairs, and without warning my mind had gone back in time. For a brief moment, I was a cadet at the naval academy being awoken in my barracks. As if almost by instinct, I had leaped out of bed and started to dress as quickly as I could. I had tossed my trousers on with decent speed and was putting on my shirt when I realized where I was, and snapped out of it. I took a deep breath, put my shirt on and then went to the bathroom to splash some water in my face and clean the overnight gunk off my teeth. The bugle blasted for only a few moments more and then stopped, as clearly the damage had been done. Unless someone was dead, odds are everyone in the house was now wide awake whether they wanted to be or not. Since I was already up and half dressed, I didn''t bother to lay back down on my bed, aware whoever had the bugle was likely not afraid to use it again. We had been summoned, and I had no choice but to answer the call. As I descended the stairs, I could hear people talking in the kitchen so I decided to join them. I knew Jimbo was always up early, and he made an amazing pot of coffee that was always dark and strong, just like him. Jimbo must have seen me coming down the stairs as he had a mug already poured and passed it to me.


    "Two sugars only, right?" Jimbo asked.


    "Perfect," I said, taking it from him and sipping it. "Thank you."


    "Did you sleep well?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "Up until the bugle went off," I replied, "I did not need that flashback."


    "You served too?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "He didn''t," Jimbo answered for me. "We were in cadets together, and they did that to us every morning, long before the sun came up too."


    "Rain or shine," I added, as I could remember it all like it was yesterday.


    "That was worse that boot camp," Jimbo recalled, "I don''t want to go back either."


    "Unless I''m running the place," I stipulated, "It''s not as bad if you''re the one dishing out anguish to young cadets."


    "Or valued employees," Mr. Parsons said, smiling back at us.


    "Duly noted, Sir." I said, before taking a long sip.


    "Eggs?" Mr. Parsons offered.


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    "I''m not sure," I said, thinking about it. "I usually skip breakfast."


    "You might want to reconsider that," Jimbo suggested, "Considering we have a pretty busy day planned. You might need the energy."


    "I might?" I asked, hoping it wasn''t mandatory.


    "You will need it," Mr. Parsons answered, "The hike is mandatory for all employees. Optional for spouses."


    "Alright," I said, taking a plate from the boss. "Thank you."


    I sat at the table and quietly ate my food, nursing my coffee the entire time, watching as the women finally started to come down the stairs. Rachel and Angie hadn''t been since since they stormed off the previous night but both seemed friendly as they said their hellos and attacked the pot of coffee as if it were the fountain of youth. Josh was nowhere to be seen, which I thought was rather interesting.


    "Where''s Josh?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "He''s still sleeping," Angie replied. "He was up until four working on something. This is his usual practice when working on a new book. Work until he''s exhausted and then crash for the whole morning. He won''t be up till lunch."


    "So I guess Josh is a no for the hike," Jimbo assumed.


    "He''s a spouse, so he doesn''t have to." Mr. Parsons reminded him. "And since he was up working last night, he''s got a good excuse to sleep in."


    "I''m sorry," Rachel said, turning to face her boss. "Did he say a hike?"


    "Yes," I said, "He did."


    "We''re going to take a nice trail up the mountain," Mr. Parsons said, "Should only take a few hours to get to the spot I want to take you to. Once there we''ll have a picnic lunch and then spend the afternoon hiking back. It will be a nice group building exercise."


    "Sounds lovely," Angie said before sipping her coffee. I can tall by her tone that she didn''t like the idea at all, but understood no one was being asked to go. It was more of an order.


    "I think it will be great," Jimbo said, also sensing her disdain. "Out there, one with nature. This is great weather to do it too. Not too hot or cold, just fucking right!"


    "Thank you," Mr. Parsons said, "Your enthusiasm is appreciated."


    "I think it''s a great idea, Sir." Rachel said, also aware of it. "Anyone who can''t appreciate nature in this area is a damned fool."


    "Well said," Mr. Parson said, "I''m going to check on Mrs. Parsons and our supplies. Do we have any volunteers to help carry it?"


    "I''m good to help," Jimbo piped up, "And so is Nic."


    "I am?" I said, lifting my head and looking up at Jimbo.


    "Yes," He said, looking back at me. "You are, Mr. Cadet. These packs will be feathers compared to what they used to make us haul up a hill."


    "Fair enough," I said, taking a sip and not wanting to protest. He was right after all, so there was no point even trying to argue it.


    "Don''t worry," Mr. Parsons added, "The packs are not that heavy, and they''ll be a lot lighter on the way back as well, since most of it will be our lunch."


    "Well, since there''s food," I added, seeming optimistic, "Then I''m in for sure."


    "That''s the spirit!" Mr. Parsons said, seeming very excited. "We start walking in a half hour!"

 27. Angie

    The bugle was hard to ignore, as I opened my eyes and slowly crawled out of bed. After clearing the metaphorical webs out of my eyes, I got my bearings and remembered the situation and stood up to dress for the day.


    "Breakfast is ready," Mr. Parsons called out from the floor below. "Get dressed for outdoor activity and be down to eat in five minutes!"


    Aware of what was ahead, I put something more casual to wear. A pair of skinny jeans and a shirt seemed more appropriate for the day. I looked over at Josh and the bugle had failed to wake him up. I gazed over at the desk and his laptop was there, along with a few empty cans. He had brought a six pack of his favorite energy drink and some of had been consumed, which told me everything I needed to know. He had been up most of the night writing. It''s obvious Josh was inspired after witnessing and mildly participating the confrontation at the table last night. Conflict usually spurs him along, and it appears the previous day was no different. I had considered waking him up, but thought against it. Since he was working, he deserved to sleep in as a reward. As I descended down the stairs, I could see Mr. Parsons at the bottom with his bugle and smiling at me as I came down.


    "Cute," I said to him as I reached the bottom of the staircase. "Unfortunately, writers who were up all night are immune to its effects."


    "Oh really?" Mr. Parson said, as he looked ready to try again.


    "Let him be," I said to him, "If he was working, he should be allowed to get some rest."


    "Was he working?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "I believe so," I replied, "Josh only downs his energy drinks when he wants to stay awake. He only does that when he''s getting some good work done. If there''s nothing coming, he''ll just let sleep creep up and consume him for the night."


    "Okay, that makes sense." Mr. Parsons said, putting the bugle down to his side. "We''ll let him skip the hike if he''s been working too."


    "Sounds good to me," I said, in full agreement. "Odds are he might use the solitude to get even more work finished as well."


    "Get some grub," the boss repeated, "You''ll need the energy."


    "Yes, Sir." I said before breaking away and strolling into the kitchen.


    I noticed both Jimbo and Nicholas were already in the kitchen, eating and chattering. They obviously knew what was going on so I took a seat and waited for breakfast to be served. After Jimbo brought over my plate, I spoke up.


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    "Thanks, Jim." I started, "What is going on that we will need our energy for it?"


    "Looks like a team building activity." Jimbo replied.


    "Oh dear god," I said, muffling my complaints with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon.


    "I''m afraid so," Nicholas added. "We''re taking hike, and that will take most if not all day to do."


    "Do we have to do this?" I asked.


    "That depends," Jimbo replied, "Do you want to remain employed?"


    "Shit," I said, sighing deeply. "I was afraid of this. He wants us all to bond."


    "I realize human interaction is your kryptonite," Nicholas said, "But Mr. Parsons seems rather vocal about getting everyone out there to bond and connect."


    "I was afraid he''d be that kind of boss." I admitted, "But it could worse."


    "Of course it could," Jimbo added, "He could always be a skirt chaser."


    "I know," I said, trying to keep my insincere thoughts to myself.


    "Finish up," Nicholas said, "He wants to take off sooner than later."


    "Is Josh coming down?" Jimbo asked.


    "He''s not." I answered, "He was up all night working. He does that when inspired. He''ll be asleep till noon."


    "Fair enough," Jimbo said, as he turned off the stove top. There was no one else to cook for.


    Things were rather silent after that as the people present continued to eat and fuel up on caffeine spiked java until the boss finally strolled into the room. He appeared to be all smiled as he was very excited at the day they had planned.


    "Is everyone ready to hike?"


    "As ready as I''ll ever be." I answered.


    "Yes, Sir!" Jimbo said, as he appeared just as excited.


    "We''re going to get started in fifteen minutes!" Mr. Parsons continued, "So get what you need and be ready to go. Once we take off there will be no turning back so make sure you don''t forget the essentials."


    "Alright," I said, almost dreading what was to come but accepting there was no choice. All employees had to participate if they wanted to remain under contract I guess. Then there was the promotion that was still up in the air. This hike was clearly the boss'' new way of judging the contenders and finding out what we had in us.


    After I finished breakfast, I went back upstairs to make sure I wore something more appropriate for the big hike. I put on some cargo pants that were lighter than jeans and didn''t chafe as much. Comfort was going to be important out there, especially with all the walking ahead. I also wore a long sleeve sweartshirt, to protect my arms from bugs.


    As I changed into the new threads, I looked over at Josh who was still snoring on the bed. He hadn''t moved an inch since the bugle went off. A heard of elephants could have stampeded by and he wouldn''t even open his eyes. He was dead to the world, and as much as I wanted to just crawl back in and cuddle with him, I had commitments. I want this promotion, and if taking a cheesy hike with the boss helped, then I was going to hike my ass off.


    "See you when I get back," I whispered to Josh before leaving the room.

 28. Rachel

    After breakfast was taken care of, everyone got changed and dressed appropriately for the hike. I was already wearing something fitting for our walk, and Jimbo was already dressed like that so I didn''t have to worry about him either. Nicholas didn''t have the right attire, so Jimbo loaned him a pair of track pants to help him out, which were graciously accepted. Mr. Parsons also had a spare pair of boots for him to wear, which were thankfully a good fit. If I didn''t know better, I would have bet that Mr. Parsons had a pair of boots that fit each person who forgot to bring something to cover their feet up for the hike, so it couldn''t be used as an excuse to chicken out. I packed very small bag and only tossed in the essentials such as a small water, small snack, and some small tools just in case. I didn''t need to take too much cause I knew Jimbo would cover every possibility with his pack. He was the literal boy scout, so with him around I wouldn''t have to worry about it. It was one of the things I liked about being with him.


    I was surprised that Josh wasn''t hiking with us, but it appears the writer was up all night working on his craft. From what I heard from Angie when she talked about it in the office, Josh usually did most of his work at night, as there were less distractions and the peace made it easier to concentrate and get shit done. I bet the previous night''s activities inspired some dedicated writing and caused him to work deep into the morning. He was one of those people who was only going to bed as others were waking up. It appeared to work for him as Angie never hesitated to brag about how successful a writer he was. Rather than take her word for it, I actually hit a bookstore and purchased one of Josh''s novels, and it was really good. I wanted to find out for myself and the book I had read was brilliant. I had even brought it with me for the weekend, hoping that Josh would sign it for me. I had every intent to ask him later when things settled down a bit.


    "Rachel," someone called out, who turned out to be Mrs. Parsons. "You seem like you''re in another world."


    "I''m alright," I replied, "Just thinking about a few things. Nothing important. It''s easier to think about the small stuff when you''re out here and in nature."


    "That''s a good observation," Mrs. Parson concurred, "But I would also suggest you be careful and watch out for yourself. Last thing we need on this hike is an accident."


    "Fair enough, ma''am." I agreed, "I''ll make an effort to be more careful."


    "I''m alright with people using nature to think about things," Jimbo added, "Just as long as you don''t slow us down."


    "Amen to that, cousin." Nicholas said.


    "Now, now," Mr. Parsons said as he finally interjected, "Let''s not quibble. Everyone has a good point. While I agree we should concentrate, at the same time it''s good to use the time outside to reflect and ponder when necessary. But we should pace ourselves too as it''s barely been a half hour since we left the lodge. There are checkpoints where we can take breaks and fraternize, but we should keep a good pace like Jimbo suggested."


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    "Agreed, Sir." Jimbo called out, eager to give his seal of approval. "Less talking and more marching would be in order. The better time we make, the longer you can rest at the first checkpoint."


    "Took the words right out of my mouth," Mr. Parsons said with a grin.


    It didn''t take a rocket scientist to see the military background in both men and how that link was creating a bond that their prior experiences could do. Prior to this weekend, I had no idea that Mr. Parsons used to be in the corps, but I started to see it in his mannerisms now that I was paying attention and they were quite similar to how Jimbo also composed himself during certain situations as well. There was a quality in their leadership that showed how strong both men could be when they had to be. They were clearly both alpha males as well, and while that would often lead to conflict it was their military upbringing that quelled their egos and allowed them to work as a team rather than try to up one another. This hike had become their mission, to drag everyone else up there in good time and not accept any excuses. While there were times that I would get annoyed by Jimbo''s machismo attitude, it was working for me this time rather than against as his rapport with the boss as no doubt scoring some serious brownie points and maybe giving me an inside track for the promotion. The key was not to let Jimbo get too carried away, but so far both men were keeping each other in check so I didn''t feel the need to say anything this time out, which was actually refreshing as I didn''t like to be the we blanket.


    "They''re getting along rather well," Mrs. Parsons said to me, as if she could read my mind and what I was thinking about. Chances are she was thinking it too.


    "I noticed that," I said, trying not to sound too serious about it.


    "How long have you two been together?"


    "A while now," I answered, "But I didn''t know Jim until after he returned from service. He''s always been the retired marine to me. Sometimes when I see videos from high school or even before his deployment, he seems like a different person."


    "I understand," Mrs. Parsons said, "I knew David longer and before he deployed, and that kind of work does change a person. Some things were better, while others were worse. Some boys who went out there had to grow up rather quickly or they didn''t at all. "


    "War seems to have that effect on everyone," I agreed, "That sink or swim mentality. Some step up and become stronger, while others break and never recover."


    "There usually isn''t any middle ground either," Mrs. Parsons added, "You''re forced to live with one extreme or the other."


    "Let''s go ladies!" Mr. Parsons called out, "We need to pick up the pace!"


    "Yes, dear." Mr. Parsons said, waving back to her husband.


    I smiled as her response had the same whatever tone that I usually give Jimbo when he gets pushy. It made me think if that''s the kind of couple that Jimbo and I would become when we eventually got married. Didn''t seem to bad from this perspective, but I picked up the pace just to make sure the boys didn''t get on our asses any more than they were already. This was one reason why I hate hiking. There was always someone who just wanted to keep moving and not stop to appreciate what''s around you. Stop and smell the flowers, asshole...

 29. Mr. Parsons

    Despite a few people showing a lacking of commitment and determination, we had been making some good time walking up to the first checkpoint of the hike. On average it would take the wife and I about forty five minutes to about an hour to get to a small picnic area where we would usually take a water break and rest our feet. We were almost there, and were only just passing the half hour mark. The fact that Jimbo was leading the charge and making sure everyone kept pace was by far the leading cause of this momentum. He didn''t look it the day before but Rachel''s fiance was in shape and barely breaking a sweat while marching up the hill. I could tell by his demeanor and even the grin on his face that this solider loved to wake up every morning and march the parade grounds, rain or shine.


    When they reached what I considered the first check point, it seemed like the best time to take a short break. There''s a small open space that had some picnic tables and a fountain to get some water at this place. That made it the perfect spot to take our first break.


    "Alright, let''s take a break." I called out to everyone. "We''ll resume in twenty minutes. Take a load off and hydrate. There''s a fountain if you want to refill your bottles."


    Nicholas'' bottle had been dry for a while so he walked over to the fountain and drank water for a few moments. He then proceeded to fill up his water bottle, aware that he would need it for the next leg of the trip. He seemed to not ration his water out as well as he could have during the first leg of their hike. As I was watching everyone take a load off, Jimbo however walked up to speak with me.


    "We''ve only been hiking a short time," Jimbo started, "Are you sure we should be taking twenty off so soon?"


    "I am," I replied, "The next leg of the hike is a long one. They''ll need a moment, trust me."


    "How long does this hike usually take?" Jimbo asked, "Not complaining, Sir. I''m just curious to know so I can mentally prepare for it."


    "About an hour and a half." I answered, thinking more about it. "We then stop for lunch and do another block like that right up to the lake."


    "We''re walking towards a lake?" Jimbo said, thinking about it himself. "That''s a long trek. We won''t be able to stay long if we want to hike back before dark."


    "We''re not hiking back." I whispered to him. "There''s a camping site already set up. We''ll be sleeping right beside the lake tonight."


    "Oh," Jimbo said, as a small smile crept over his face. "Oh, I like that idea. Please tell me you have some fishing gear up there."


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    "We do," I confirmed for him. "There''s a nice peer where we can cast off of. How do you think we''re going to eat tonight?"


    "I like this idea," Jimbo repeated, "You can tell a lot about a person by how they respond to camping in the great outdoors. This will tell you quite a bit about their character, and their ability to adapt and problem solve."


    "Exactly," I said, glad that Jimbo understood. "But please keep this between us, I wouldn''t want to spoil the surprise."


    "And miss the chance to see the stunned look on everyone''s face?" Jimbo said, "Oh, you can consider these lips sealed."


    "Good man," I said, padding him on the back.


    "A shame Josh wasn''t here," Jimbo added, "That poor bloke is going to be on his own for the next day or so and miss all the fun."


    "I have the feeling he''ll be alright." I replied, "He''ll probably get a lot of work done. I also have a the feeling that room service is about as close to roughing it as he would want to get."


    "I did get that impression," Jimbo confirmed, "I like him, but he is a tad soft. Knowing our luck, he''ll write another book while we''re gone and that one will probably sell for millions too."


    "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked him.


    "One of his current books is so popular," Jimbo started, "That a few studios are bidding for the film rights as we speak. I read online that the all the bids are already into seven figures."


    "Whoa," I said, as I had no idea. "I knew he was a writer, but is he really that good?"


    "Oh, I can confirm," Jimbo replied, "I''ve read several of his novels, and they are quite the page turners. If I knew he was going to be here, I would have brought one for him to sign. His last novel, the one the film studios are going ga-ga over, sold over twenty million copies since it released six months ago."


    "Shit," I said, looking back at Angie. "And yet Angie is still fighting for this job as if Josh is a poor poet scraping by from month to month."


    "She doesn''t need the job, or the money." Jimbo added, "But that kind of grit is admirable. She wants to make it, but it doesn''t hurt to have backups. She can afford to take chances, cause if you fired her tomorrow... her millionaire writer would be her safety net."


    "Certainly gives me more to think about," I said, "A lot more."


    "Don''t think about too much," Jimbo said, patting be back on the shoulder. "Overthinking is just as bad as underthinking. Give it a good thought, and then listen to your gut."


    "Are you sure about that?" I asked.


    "Dead serious," Jimbo confirmed, "Our guts have good instinct, and they tell us the truth without pride or prejudice. You should listen to it more often rather than thinking about it too much."


    "Even if it means Rachel doesn''t get it?" I asked, curious to see his reaction.


    "I can''t answer that for obvious reasons," Jimbo responded, "But if you do what''s in your best interest and what''s in the company''s best interest, she''ll get over it. As long as the company does better, it means Rachel stays employed and well paid. We''ll survive and she''ll live to be promoted another day, maybe even to a better position."


    "I appreciate your honestly," I told him, "I really like having you out here. I have a feeling that this trip is going to be a lot more fun because of it."


    "Oh I agree," Jimbo said, "This is going to be a ton of fun."

 30. Joshua

    It was a little after high noon when I finally opened my eyes and groaned my way out of bed. I had been up working most of the night creating some new material. The fireworks from the previous night had inspired me a great deal and I was too excited to sleep. I was up until five in the morning, typing away at the keyboard as if I had a deadline on Monday. It had been a while since I was that inspired and it felt good to feel the words just flow out. By the time I went to bed, I could already hear some people up and starting their morning. That was kind of typical for me; when everybody else is getting out of bed, I''m usually getting in it.


    So when I finally got out of bed it was around twelve thirty, and the one thing that really caught me off guard was how quiet it was. I looked out the window, and there were no signs of life. No one smoking on the deck, no one shooting the shit. Nothing. It seemed odd so I put on some slacks and a t-shirt before strolling downstairs. When I reached the bottom of the staircase, I was greeted by the same silence and lack of bodies. I had overheard something about a hike, but I had assumed them would have been back by lunch. I decided to stroll into the kitchen to investigate further.


    As I strolled into the kitchen, there were still no one there but there was a message left on the counter. As I opened it and started to read it, it was then when I realized it was from Angie''s boss, Mr. Parsons. The message was quite interesting, as it read:


    Josh,


    I heard you were up all night working, and hope that you were productive. Everyone has joined my wife and I one a hike to the lake. What everyone else is unaware of is beside the lake is our camp, and we''ll be staying at this campsite overnight. We shall return tomorrow before lunch, but that means you''re on your own. At the bottom of the letter is the WiFi password, so you can access the internet. I''m sure you can use the time alone to do more work while we''re gone. The fridge is full stocked so you can whip something up or just attack the leftovers from last night.


    Sincerely,


    David Parsons


    I looked at the letter and read it again. I couldn''t help but grin, as I knew how much Angie hated camping... which was almost as much as I hated camping. I''d rather stay at the house and do more writing than hike to the lake. I felt like I was getting a pass on something that I would not have enjoyed. Not one bit.


    I made myself a cup of coffee and then after a few sips, I brought my laptop down and used the password from the letter to access the WiFi and get back on the net. I had the laptop sitting on the island in the middle of the kitchen when I was finally able to launch the online chat program. It took only a few seconds to finally connect with my agent, who I hadn''t been able to talk to since the previous morning. He seemed happy to see me.


    "Josh!" the agent called out. "Where are you?"


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    "I''m still at the cabin," I answered, "I''m connected to the WiFi, so this is as good as phoning ya. So give me the skinny, Eddie, where are the negotiations?"


    "It''s getting intense," Eddie answered, wiping the sweat from his brow.


    "How intense are we talking here?" I asked him, eager to know more.


    "The studios are matching each other every six hours." Eddie replied, "The bids are just over ten million. And because of the rumors, your book sales are up two hundred percent."


    "Damn," I said, sipping my coffee. "So no matter what, I''m making some serious coin."


    "Pretty much," Eddie said, "But in the end, the decision is yours. You get to pick who you prefer to work with and why."


    "Understood," I said, pondering the power I was just given. "Let the studios know that I was full creative control. I''m not going to sabotage my own film, cause I want it to succeed but I have to approve all major casting decisions, so this film meets my vision and standard. Understood?"


    "Some studios might not like that," Eddie said.


    "Good," I replied, as I honestly didn''t care. "That might narrow the field and make our decision a little easier."


    "Good way to put it," Eddie conceded, "I assume that''s a deal breaker?"


    "You assumed correctly," I concurred, "No creative control means no contract. Anyone who refuses is basically disqualifying themselves from consideration."


    "What if they all refuse?" Eddie asked.


    "They won''t," I countered, "There''s one studio out there that wants my business so bad that they''ll give me anything I want. We just have to find them."


    "Alright," Eddie said, deeply sighing. "I''ll let them know."


    "Don''t pout," I told the agent, "We are going with who gives us more control, not the highest bid. But if we can get both, that would be a bonus."


    "I hear ya," Eddie said, "When are you coming back to town?"


    "Probably early Monday." I answered, "This company weekend thing is so weird."


    "What do you mean? How weird?" Eddie asked.


    "Weird enough to the point where I spend all night writing new material." I replied.


    "New material?" Eddie repeated, "I do like the sound of that."


    "I''m sure you do," I said, waving to him. "I''m going to get back to work, I suggest you do the same."


    "Will do," Eddie said, "Have a good weekend."


    "You too, bud." I said before shutting down the video call.


    I sat there at the island, sitting on one of the stools thinking about everyone else. I wondered what the look one everyone''s face was going be when Mr. Parsons revealed their outdoor accommodations for the night. Jimbo would be fine, he seemed like a camping and fishing kind of guy. For a moment I wished I could have been there to see the look on everyone else''s faces, especially Angie and Rachel. I chuckled for a moment and then sighed, content to miss it cause I was glad that I managed to avoid getting dragged out there and bitten by a zillion mosquitoes. That amusing thought was again starting to inspire words, so I opened the word processor and just started to type. Like the night before, the new words were again flowing out. With the peace and quiet that surrounded me, I was going to get a lot of work done today.

 31. Nicholas

    There''s a part of me that doesn''t mind hiking, but I prefer doing trails and paths that are straight and narrow. Climbing up hills, going back down and up again, those are the kind of ''hikes'' that professional cross trainers take, and that isn''t me. Not one fucking bit. When we reached the first pit stop, I was out of water and sweating like a whore in church. My legs were already weak and it was clear to me and anyone else that could see I was horribly out of shape. I have been pampered by a cushy office job, and a wife that was too good in the kitchen. The end result was some extra pounds, low energy and looking like a total wuss during this hike. Every now and then I can feel Jimbo looking at me, with those eyes that let me know he''s judging my fat ass and how weak I''m looking. Even the women are not aching and moaning as bad as I am. I''m pathetic. An embarrassment to all men. The shame of my gender. I might as well lop of my balls and turn them in, as I don''t deserve them anymore.


    "Nic," I heard a voice called out.


    I looked over and Mr. Parsons has stopped walking and waited for me to catch up to him.


    "Hey there," I said, huffing a little too much. "You alright, Sir?"


    "I was about to ask you the same thing," Mr. Parsons said, as he put a hand on my shoulder to bring me to a stop. "Jimbo and I are a little worried here. You look pale. The last thing we want is for you to have a heart attack."


    "I''m sorry, Sir." I said, taking a moment to suck in some more air. "I''m just not as fit as I used to be. I stopped going to the gym and it just went downhill from there."


    "What''s going on, Nic?" Mr. Parsons asked, "This doesn''t feel normal for you."


    "I know, but it''s just something I have to deal with on my own." I said, rather cryptically. "I''m dealing with a lot of other issues I haven''t told anyone about. I also underestimated this hike. If I had known, I would have brought things like a bigger water jug and my inhaler."


    "We''re not far from our destination," Mr. Parsons added. "It''s less than a mile. Do you think you can handle it?"


    "I can now," I said, smiling back at him. "Knowing there''s a finish line helps."


    "Here," Mr. Parson said as he passed me a water bottle. "This is my spare. Don''t worry about me, mine is still half full."


    "Thank you," I said as he traded bottles and he put my empty one where the other was stashed. "I''ll be fine, but if I''m not I''ll be sure to let you know."


    "Good man," Mr. Parsons said as he patted me on the back and let me get ahead of him before he resumed walking as well.


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    Rachel looked over and the at me as I managed to catch up with her.


    "What the fuck was that about?" She asked me.


    "He''s just worried," I said, sarcastically. "He''s afraid of a lawsuit if I croak during this fucking hike."


    "Well, don''t push your luck." Rachel said, "Don''t risk your health for a job you already dropped out of the running for. When I get that promotion, I''m going to need your help too."


    "You will?" I said, looking more confused than pale.


    "Of course!" Rachel confirmed, "You''re a hard worker and honest as well. I''d be a fool not to seek your help when I''m running things. I''ll make sure you get a raise too!"


    "Sounds good to me," I said, getting a second wind from my new supply of water. "Now I hope you do get the job."


    "That makes two of us," Rachel said, "Excuse me, I''m going to ask Jimbo to slow the fuck down before he kills some of us."


    "Thanks," I said as I watched her pick up the pace to catch up with her man.


    Mr. Parsons said it was less than a mile, but it felt like we walked two more miles before finally reaching what was our destination. There were two trailers, and several tents already set up, a fire pit and a lot of camping equipment. I took a look at the new settings and it quickly dawned on me what was going on.


    "Son of a bitch," I said, wheezing. "I hate camping."


    Jimbo walked up and put his arm around me.


    "You''re failing to see the good news." He whispered to me.


    "And what might that be, Superman?" I asked him.


    "We''re staying here tonight," Jimbo answered, "And that means no more hiking for the rest of the day."


    "Oh, I like the sound of that." I said, sighing loudly. "Suddenly camping doesn''t sound so bad."


    "That''s the spirit!" Jimbo said, slapping my back. "You did well, so stop being so hard on yourself. I know what you''re dealing with, and you were a trooper to keep up with us. You take a break in that chair over there and I''m going to catch our supper."


    "That sounds good to me," I said as I started to limp over to the chair he pointed out.


    There were a few folding chairs but there were a few better ones that looked more comfy, and that was the one Jimbo was pointing out for me. I could feel the stress leave my legs and back as I slowly eased into the chair and relaxed. The chair was so comfortable that I could have easily fallen asleep but kept myself awake on purpose. The more exhausted I was later on in the night, the easier it would be for me to sleep in the tent.


    "Are you alright, Nicholas?" a soft voice asked me.


    I opened my eyes, and Mrs. Parsons appeared to look just as concerned as her husband did earlier in the day.


    "I''m much better now," I replied, "Thank you."


    "Can I get you a drink?" she asked, "We have sodas in the cooler."


    "A diet Pepsi would be amazing, thank you." I said with a grateful smile.


    After Mrs. Parsons grabbed me that diet Pepsi, I sat there and drank it while watching Angie inspect the tents, probably looking for the best one for herself. It was only moments later that she realized they all had names on them and were preassigned like the rooms in the cabin. I laughed to myself and kept drinking my Pepsi, content to watch and observe for the time being. My back was aching but I could tell the fun was just beginning.

 32. Mrs. Parsons

    When the group arrived to the camp site, the reactions of the would be campers was exactly what David and I had assumed they would be. Based on last night''s dinner, we believe we had a good idea on how most people would react to sleeping outdoors tonight. Jimbo was psyched and jacked about it sleeping by the lake. He seems like the kind of guy who could move into a trailer by the lake and be happy for the rest of his life. Nicolas on the other had, despite his cadet experience, was the polar opposite of Jimbo. He looked rather unwell during our hike, and for a moment I thought he was going to have a stroke. David explained to me his situation, and I had no idea what was bothering him based on how he was acting. He was very good at hiding his condition. The exhaustion of the hike just made it harder for him to hide. I watched as Jimbo grabbed a Pepsi and handed it to Nicolas who was already in one of the more comfortable seats. Usually I''d get mad when someone would steal one of those, but if it keep Nicholas out of having to be med-evaced to the nearest hospital, I was willing to let it pass.


    "Are you alright, dear?" David asked as he walked closer. He knew I was thinking about something and curiosity always got the best of him. I swear he was a cat in a past life.


    "I''m okay," I said, smiling at him. "I was just a little worried about Nicholas. He was looking pretty bad back there."


    "I know, I was worried too." David said, looking over at him. "He seems better now. We''ll go easier on him tomorrow."


    "How so?" I asked, even thought I suspected what the answer might be.


    "I''ll have you drive him back to the house," David said, "Jimbo and I can handle walking everyone else back to the house."


    "I think there''s been enough hiking," I told my husband, "We''re all driving back tomorrow and that''s that. Understood."


    "Yes, ma''am." David said, making a half assed salute.


    "Now I suggest you and Jimbo bait those lines and get to work," I suggested, "Those fish aren''t going to catch themselves. Don''t make me order Dominoes again."


    "Alright, alright," David said as he got the message, "Jimbo is eager to catch them, so I suspect we''ll have more catches than usual. There''s no need for pizza, anyway. There are steaks and burgers in the trailer fridge. We''re cooking something tonight regardless of what or how many fish Jimbo and I manage to catch."


    "Very good," I said, even giving out a small sigh of relief. I hated ordering pizza last time but they were the only place willing to deliver to the campsite.


    I watched as David and Jimbo grabbed the fishing gear and took it all out to the small pier by the lake. It looked weird watching the two men as they easily set things up and were casting their lines out in no time at all. They seemed to content, easy going, and enjoy themselves. Well definitely a lot more than everyone else was. The ladies were in their tents and resting, while Nicholas sat by the unlit fire pit and just vegged out. I considered speaking to Nicholas and even asked if he wanted to help with prep, but I found a better person to assign the job to as Angie emerged from her tent, even wearing a new shirt that had no sweat stains from the hike. That woman just packs so much for any situation, to the point where it''s borderline overkill. When Angie looked over in my direction, I waved at her, which was my way of summoning her to come over and help with whatever I wanted her to do. She quickly took the hint and jogged over.


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    "What''s up, Mrs. Parsons?"


    I paused for a moment and let the fact that she refused to use my first name pass. She was trained well, probably by her strict parents, so I didn''t have the time to deprogram her.


    "I could use some help," I started, "Making salads and other things to go with the supper Jim and David are going to bring out of the lake."


    "Oh, I see." Angie said, looking at the men fishing. "Is it safe to eat them?"


    "Quite," I assured her, "This lake is very clean compared to others in this part of the country. We eat from the lake all the time. Some very tasty fish out there."


    "Alright, I was just curious." Angie said as she took a station and started to help with the chopping.


    "Are you alright?" I asked her, as I could tell she was distracted.


    "I''m just thinking about Josh," Angie answered.


    "I''m sure he''s fine," I assured her again, "He''s got the castle to himself."


    "I''m not worried," Angie said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself. "I just hope you locked up the liquor cabinet."


    "Does Josh have a drinking problem?" I asked her, "He seemed alright last night when he was drinking wine and what not."


    "I don''t think so," Angie said, concentrating on her veggies. "But when the Red Bull runs out, he might turn to something stronger like whiskey to keep the writing going."


    "That''s rather interesting," I said, smiling at her. "The Hemingway method."


    "Excuse me?" Angie said, as she didn''t know what that was.


    "Ernest Hemingway," I explained to her, "One of his more infamous quotes is to write drink, but edit sober. There are a lot of writers that took his advice quite literally."


    "I see," Angie said, thinking about it. "Some things make more sense now actually."


    "Some writers believe that drinking strips them of their hesitation," I continued, "That they will write with less fear, and then edit it out later if it doesn''t work out. Trying to open the flood gates, I suppose."


    "Josh doesn''t do that every often," Angie said, "I just hope he restrains himself. There''s no deadline or pressure on him right now. I hope he just relaxes and writes with a clear head."


    "There''s leftovers in the fridge," I reminded her, "He''ll have plenty to nibble on while he does his work. I hope that will help."


    "That will help," Angie confirmed, "Josh loves to nibble on snacks while writing. It helps him think when composing new works."


    "What about his sleeping patterns?" I asked her. "Does he stay up that late a lot?"


    "He does," Angie admitted. "Josh finds the dead of night the most peaceful time to write. He gets a lot more work done when there''s nothing on TV and everyone is already in bed. The difference is ten fold. He also gets to hog the bed after I take off for work."


    "So sleeping in and hogging the sheets?" I asked, "I guess the writer''s life is pretty cool."


    Angie smiled. "It is when you put it that way."


    Both of us had a good laugh.


    "Alright, enough chit chat." I informed my slow helper. "These salads aren''t going to make themselves, are they?"


    "No ma''am," Angie said, as she got back to work and started to move a little faster.


    I could tell she was worried about Josh, but I had experience helping me with my anxiety. The longer they''re together, the more trust they''ll have in each other. They still had a long way to go if you asked me. They''ll need a lot of work.

 33. Rachel

    Just as were arriving to the campsite, Jimbo gave my ass a playful tap as he passed by. As he did so, he gave my cute behind two soft taps. A double tap would often tell me that he needed to tell me something, a coded message we had been using for a while. Just after that I pretended to need to stop for a second to tie my shoelaces. Jimbo came back to check up on me.


    "Hey, babe." Jimbo said as he strolled over. "You doing alright?"


    "I''m good," I replied, giving him a wink. I waited for the others to pass by. "What''s going on?"


    "We''re almost at our destination," Jimbo said, "Just play it cool, we''re staying out here overnight. It''s not a hike, it''s a camping trip."


    "Lovely," I said, standing back up. "I didn''t bring any bug spray."


    "Don''t worry," Jimbo said, tapping his chest pocket. "I''ve got ya covered. Act surprised, but not too surprised. Prove that you''re able to roll with the punches."


    After giving me a small hug, Jimbo went back on the trail to catch up with the boss. I resumed walking and like he said moments later we were at the campsite. I walked around and inspected the site, trying to look delighted by the turn of events rather than annoyed. I did my best to keep my amusement to myself when I realized that the tents had names on them and were assigned, just like the rooms at the cabin. Jimbo assumes that I don''t camp but he would be wrong. My father loved to camp, and while I wasn''t fond of it myself, I knew how to do it because of all the camping trips my old man dragged my entire family on a few times each summer.


    I watch as Angie runs around like a chicken that just had it''s head cut off, all chaos and zero chill. Such a shame that her support system worked all night and slept in. Then again, Josh was the lucky one here. I wish I was back at the cabin too, so I can''t dis the man too much. Knowing our luck, he was going to spend the day writing another bestseller and make millions of the inspiration we all gave to him last night. Nice to see someone''s being productive this weekend.


    "Rachel," I heard someone call out, "Are you alright?"


    "Yeah," I said, looking over to Nicolas who was sitting in one of the nicer chairs. "I''ll be alright."


    "Sit with me," he invited.


    "Are you sure?" I asked, not sure if I''d be bothering him.


    "It will make look empathetic," he countered, "And it gives you an excuse to steal one of the good chairs cause you''re checking up on me."


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    I couldn''t argue with Nic''s logic, and since I was a tad concerned I accepted his invitation. I walked over and sat down beside him, stealing one of the good chairs as he recommended. I crossed my legs and tried my best to get comfortable.


    "Do you think Mrs. Parsons assigned the tents just to annoy Angie again?" I asked.


    "Probably," Nicolas said, laughing at the thought. "I don''t think Mrs. Parsons likes her very much."


    "I wouldn''t if i was her," I said, "I''d be threatened by any woman that hot who wants to climb the corporate latter. She''s afraid Angie will do anything to get a head. She probably won''t, but that''s what keeps many wives of CEO''s up at night."


    "I suppose," Nicolas said, "But she''s already got her claws into a very successful man, so I don''t think she''d risk losing that big fish."


    "Anther good point," I said, as he was again making a sound argument. Josh was indeed a catch, and a very big fish for a woman like her to land.


    We both watched from our chairs as Angie walked over to where Mrs. Parsons was and started to help her with meal prep, as she was likely being told to help. Not like she needed to be ordered to, she would do it just for the brownie points.


    "And there she goes," Nicholas said with a chuckle, "Brown nosing even tot he boss'' wife."


    "Maybe she should sleep with her instead," I joked.


    "Ha!" Nicholas said as he loved the quib, "I would totally not put that above her."


    "Neither would I," I said, enjoying this conversation. I almost didn''t want to ask the next question. "Are you feeling alright?"


    "I''ll be fine," Nicholas answered, "Many days I lie when I say that, but I''m not doing too bad this time out. The chair is helping too."


    "What does it feel like?" I asked him. Jimbo and I talked about it a few times but never really got into the nitty gritty of it.


    "It''s hard to explain," Nicholas said, shifting in his chair. "Just imagine arthritis had an illegitimate crack baby that was jacked up on steroids."


    "How often are you in pain?" I asked him.


    "It''s easier to ask when am I not." he replied, "Truth is I just bear it and lie. There''s no point telling anyone who cannot do anything about it. Why should I piss on their parade? Just let them live in ignorant bliss, unaware of that suffering that goes on around them."


    "It''s not nice to assume people cannot help, isn''t it?" I asked him.


    "If my doctors and specialists can''t help," Nicholas started, "Then I''m pretty sure the normal folk can''t either."


    "Touche," I said, metaphorically tossing in the towel. "I''m sorry I can''t help."


    "You are helping," Nicholas corrected, "Sitting here and just being normal is more helpful than you could ever imagine. It''s nice to talk with out the bullshit standing in the way. That''s something I also like about Jimbo. I don''t have to fake it around him either."


    "You couldn''t anyway," I added, "He smells lies like a fart in a car. You can''t bullshit him."


    "Oh crap," Nicholas said, almost under his breath. "You are being summoned to the prep table. I suspect you are about to be put to work."


    "It''s alright," I said, standing up. "Can''t let Angie have all the brownie points."


    "Have fun," Nicholas said, grinning.


    "Fuck you too..." I said playfully as I walked away.

 34. Jimbo

    Sitting on the pier with Mr. Parsons was an ideal place for me to be, especially if I wanted to take advantage of this budding friendship. The more her boss got along with me, the more likely Parsons would choose Rachel for the job. The fish however were not being very co-operative, and while I could likely catch more than enough for us all, I didn''t want to show up the boss and waited for him to get a few nibbles before kicking things up a notch.


    "Don''t take is so personally, Sir." I said, trying to not make a big deal of it.


    "Tell that to your stomach tonight," Mr. Parsons countered.


    "Smart man like you," I added, "There''s no way you don''t have a backup in place."


    "It''s just more fun to catch your supper," Mr. Parsons said in protest.


    "It is," I concurred, "But fish are like women, sometimes they''re just unwilling to cooperate. And there''s no reason to their behavior, so it''s It''s not anyone''s fault. The fish are just not that hungry today."


    "I suppose," Mr. Parsons agreed, "If they''re not biting, they''re just not biting."


    "So what''s the backup?" I asked the bossman.


    "We have some pretty good steaks in the fridge," Parsons informed me, "few baked potatoes and veggies that the wife is already chopping up."


    "You see, no pressure," I said as I cast a line back in, "Fishing tends to be easier when we don''t pressure ourselves as much."


    After another half hour of no bites, Mr. parsons patience finally wore out and we ended this unsuccessful attempt to catch our own dinner. As we walked back to the campsite with no bucket or bounty to offer the ladies, Mrs. Parsons didn''t seem upset nor surprised by the outcome.


    "It''s alright, dear." she said to her husband, "I already took the steaks out to defrost, they''ll be ready to grill very soon."


    "You wanna help with the grilling, Jim?" Mr. Parsons asked, as both he and his wife looked over at me.


    I was tempted to say no, but I could tell this was more of a plea for help rather than someone trying to be polite. If Parsons cooked as badly as he fished, there was no way in hell I wanted him touching my steak, or it would end up being as dark as a hockey puck.


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    "Sure," I said to him, smiling back. "I''d love to help. I just need to take a leak, first."


    "Actually, you''ll have to wait." Mrs. Parsons said, "I think Angie is in the bathroom right now."


    "That''s alright," I said, "I''m a man, which means the world is my urinal. I''ll go over there and find a nice bush to water. I''ll be right back."


    As I was strolling towards the wooded area where I would relieve myself, I could see Rachel and Nicholas talking by the fire pit.


    "Did you guys catch anything?" Nic asked.


    "Not a damn thing," I called back, "We''re having steaks instead. I''ll be right back, I gotta pee."


    "Thanks for sharing that," Rachel called out, amused as ever.


    "You''re welcome," I sarcastically called out.


    I strolled into the wood, but didn''t stop right away. The last thing I needed was nosy bitches like Angie coming out to see what I was doing. I walked for at least two minutes away from the came and made sure I had plenty of cover to do my thing. I made a last minute scan around before unzipping my trousers and taking out my thang to drain the main vein. It took me a few seconds to relax enough to release but once I started, I had a good stream going and was feeling so much better. I had that kind of bliss that would clear someone''s head, the kind each man has before that piss shiver comes to let you know that your urinating was almost done. I took a moment to shake my thang before putting it away. As I was zipping up, I could hear something behind me as there was a rustling of leaves.


    "I swear woman," I said, turning around, "You have the patience of a dead horse, I told you..."


    I stopped mid-sentence when I realized that the person I was addressing wasn''t my impatient other half. The thing being addressed wasn''t even human. I stood there like a statue and took low, quiet breaths as the cougar slowly approached me. I didn''t know what kind of wildlife was in this part of the state, and I didn''t feel the need to look it up because I had assume everyone would be inside the cabin all weekend, but here I was... face to face with one big, angry kitty.


    "Now hold on," I said to it in a calm voice. "I don''t know what you''re thinking, but you don''t want to have none of this."


    While part of me realizes the cougar likely never understood a word of what I was saying, another part of me thought the cougar didn''t give a shit and was eager to take a bit out of my ass and make things a tad difficult. I really didn''t want thing to escalate but the cat wasn''t in the mood to live and let live... at least not from my perspective.


    "Come on, man!" I said, speaking to the cat again. "I guarantee you will fucking regret it."


    The cougar kept walking closer to me, even growling a bit as it did so. As the kitty got even closer, I realized there was no reasoning with the predator.


    "Don''t try it," I said, giving the beast it''s final warning. "Last chance, bucko."


    It was at this point where the cat started to run up to me, clearly making his intentions known. Unfortunately the cougar didn''t notice that I was hiding something behind my back, and it took only seconds to pull the item out and point it at the large cat that was attacking. Seconds later came a sound that startled everyone at camp.


    BANG!!!

 35. Joshua

    The previous night had moved a little faster than I would have preferred but time does tend to fly right by when you''re writing your ass off. By the time the sun started to rise this morning I had written a few thousand words, and all thanks to an inspiring dinner as well as the energy drinks I had chugged down. When the words come out of your fingers flowing like a river, it can sometimes feel like your flying, and you never want that night to end. Yet like all good things in life, nothing lasts forever. Hence the reason why I chugged down those drinks. I didn''t want sleep to get in the way of good momentum, even more rare than that, writing fueled by genuine inspiration. I know some writers that like to sniff a bit of coke to stay awake when they''re on a tear, but that shit does more damage than good so I pass on it. I just take few cans of a highly caffeinated drink and that''s enough for me typing deep into the good night. I also like to snack when I''m writing as well, so I always hit a bulk barn for some trail mix and chocolate covered raisins. Sometimes I get peanuts or cashews, but I didn''t want to risk exposing anyone who might have a nut allergy this weekend. I was content with what I had and in the end I had a really good writing session last night. Yet like I said before; nothing lasts forever.


    Today, however, was the exact opposite of what I had going on the previous night. Whatever momentum that was present last night had vanished like a fart in the wind. I sat there in the kitchen, staring at my laptop as I was unable to produce a single word, let alone a sentence. These are the days I wish that I was an ostrich so that I could just stick my fucking head in the sand and hide from the world. I closed the laptop and groaned in frustration. For a second I was glad that everyone else wasn''t there because I tend to get grumpy whenever I struggled to write. There''s a tense uneasiness that just itches my brain. A sliver in your mind that can''t be pulled. I get very annoying when I''m like this so sometimes it''s best to be alone when it happens.


    Yet I tried my best not to be so negative. The new book that recently released was selling faster than anything I had ever written. Major studios often get hard when the see a book sell that good, and got into a bid of a bidding war. The writer always wins whenever that happens. Not only do we get more money, we can make obscene demands that they have to accept just to get a let up, like a vote in casting decisions and other forms of creative control. I''m not the kind of guy who wanted to abuse such power, as I was the kind of writer who liked to be more of a silent partner when it came to movies. As long as the cheque clears, I''m usually okay with whatever the studio decides to fucking do.


    I poured a shot of vodka from the liquor cabinet and drained it down. It took a bit of the edge off but I was still no closer to writing than I was before. I walked back into the kitchen and decided to raid the fridge. I made a killer sandwich for lunch, but was thinking supper could be leftovers from the previous night. I grabbed some food to nibble on, hoping it and the alcohol might induce some creativity.


    It didn''t work.


    I was pacing around in the living room of the cabin when my cell phone started to ring. I was surprised it was working again, but answered the call none the less. It was my agent calling in with an update on film rights.


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    "Good news I hope," I started, eager to talk to anyone and forget about the struggles.


    "It appears we have a winner," Eddie started, "All of the studios were matching each other in terms of money, but only one was willing to accepts your additional terms. So you''re going to get money and a say in what direction they take with early production and casting."


    "Sounds good," I said, grinning like an idiot. "Let them know that I''m not going to be a tyrant. I want this film to do well and will work hard to make sure we all make a lot from it."


    "I''m sure they''ll be happy to hear that," Eddie said, sounding relieved himself.


    "Well, I supposed congrats are in order," I continued, "Great work, Eddie."


    "Thank you," Eddie said, as I could picture him taking a bow while saying that.


    Yet as I turned around, I suddenly noticed there was another person in the room. There was a woman with blonde hair and a blue coat staring right at me. I looked at her for a moment and could tell that she was scared, as she had that deer in the headlights look on her face.


    "Eddie," I said into the cell, "I''m going have to let you go. Thanks again for the great work."


    As I disconnected the line, I never took my eyes off the young woman that was on the other side of the living room, about ten feet away from me. She was younger than me by at least five years which put her in her early thirties, and she wasn''t wearing makeup which gave me the impression she was there not on business but for casual acquaintances.


    "Hey there," I finally said, breaking the silence. "Can I help you?"


    "Who the hell are you?" She quickly asked, "And what are you doing here?"


    "I''m a guest," I quickly answered, "The owner invited me up here for the weekend."


    I waited for any indication to see if she believed my story, and that came moments later when she pulled taser out of the pocket of her coat. That led me to believe that she didn''t believe what I had said, and thought ill of my presence in the cabin.


    "I don''t believe you!" She called out.


    "I guess not," I said hoping my hands up, trying to show here I wasn''t a threat. "Lady, who are you and what are you doing here?"


    "What?" She asked.


    "I know who owns this place," I answered, "And it''s not you. So what business do you have being here?"


    "That''s none of your business!" she cried out. It was clear that topic was sensitive so it seemed best to avoid that one for the time being.


    "You''re probably right," I said, trying to take her side. "It''s probably none of my bee''s wax. I can dig that. How about you put that down and I''ll explain myself and assure you that I''m not a thief or a robber."


    It was at this point where I made a terrible mistake. I took a step to the left, which was misinterpreted by the young woman as a step forward, and that was all the reason she needed to zap my sorry ass. She pulled the trigger on the taser and those two little wires flew across the room as the two probes attached to the wires attached themselves to the shirt I was wearing underneath my open robe just seconds before I got the shock of my life. My body began to painfully spasm as the electrical currents came through the wires and immediately lost consciousness. All I could hear was the young woman call out how sorry she was as I fell to the floor. Fuck me...

 36. Meagan

    It was mid-afternoon on the same road I had driven down so many times before. I had called the office the day before and was told that David Parsons was at the Cabin. This was something he did on occasion to think whenever he wanted to be alone. The fact that he didn''t even invite me to go up with him like we had done many weekends before was disappointing. To be perfectly honest, I was infuriated when I first found out he went up there without me. I may not be the wife, but that didn''t mean he had to treat me with such disrespect either. I was a person who had feelings, and we hadn''t seen one another for weeks and that was also upsetting me. Now he''s gone to the cabin without me, and if left me thinking. Are we finished? Did he find someone new to fill the position of mistress? Was I being replaced like an old, unwanted toy? I gripped the steering wheel with anger, pretending it was David''s neck, squeezing the life out of that bastard. How dare he do this to me! I wanted answers, and I was going to get them. That was as long as I got up to that blasted cabin before nightfall.


    There was a moment when I thought I was lost, but I stopped at a local for directions. There was a very nice waitress that managed to point me in the right direction and I made decent time getting to the cabin. There were a few cars parked there, to the point where I had to part on the lawn. I wasn''t used to seeing so many cars parked there, because usually it was just David and myself. As I walked up to the house, I noticed the Ferrari and couldn''t help but think someone was clearly showing off and making up for something. Only someone who was all ego and had nothing to back it up would want a car that fucking expensive and then drive it all the way out to the cabin with no regard for damage. Sounded like David, or at least the David I knew.


    I was tempted to knock on the door, but preferred to surprise David in case he was doing something, or someone, he wasn''t supposed to be. I unlocked the door and let myself in, and what was waiting inside was surprising. There was no one, which was odd considering the amount of cars that was outside. I didn''t say anything and put my suitcase beside the stairs before wandering into the living room. It just seems so eerily quiet and while I was tempted to go upstairs and check the bedrooms, I was startled to hear a voice coming from the kitchen.


    Out of nowhere a man came out of the kitchen and wasn''t looking at me as he appeared to be too busy talking to his cell phone which was in his hand. It led me to believe whoever he was talking to was on speaker. The man was only a little older than I was, and was wearing a robe that was open and flapping about. Thankfully for me, the man was wearing boxers and a wife beater underneath it, so nothing gross was there for me to be exposed to.


    "I suppose congrats are in order," the man said, as he appeared to be rather happy about something. "Great work, Eddie."


    "Thank you," the cell phone replied.


    It was at this moment, when the man on the phone turned and looked right at me. Up until that moment, I was invisible to him but now stuck out like a sore thumb. He looked rather confused to see me, and continued to speak after pausing for a few seconds.


    "Eddie," he said to the phone, "I''m going to have to let you go. Thanks again for the great work."


    He disconnected the line and never took his eyes off me as he did so.


    "Who the hell are you?" He finally asked, "Can I help you?"


    I really didn''t know what to say, because up until this point the only person I had ever seen in this cabin ever was David. I wasn''t used to someone else being there, and despite the few cars that were out there, it had never occurred to me that someone else might be here besides the man I expected. After the initial shock wore off, I was finally able to respond to the man''s questions.


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    "Who the hell are you?" I demanded, as if I owned the place. "And what the hell are you doing here?"


    "I''m a guest," the man quickly replied, "The owner invited me up here for the weekend."


    Based on what I knew about David, this wasn''t the kind of man that he would associate with. I didn''t believe that David would invite him up here, so I replied to his obvious lie by pulling out my taser and pointed it at the intruder.


    "I don''t believe you!" I called out, scared out of my mind.


    "I suppose not," the man said, holding his hands up. "Lady, who are you and what are you doing here?"


    "What?" I called back, confused by his questions.


    "I know who owns this place," the man replied, "And it''s not you. So what business do you have being here?"


    "That''s none of your business!" I cried out, since it was clearly a sensitive topic. David and I had agreed to keep our relations secret, so to speak of my true reasons for being there was a big no no.


    "You''re probably right," That man said, appearing to turn on a little charm." It''s probably none of my bee''s wax. I can dig that. How about you put that down and I''ll explain myself and assure you I''m not a thief or robber..."


    Just the mere mention of robbery seemed to scare me, and the man took a step closer and it seems that I responded by panicking just a tad. I pulled the trigger on the taser and the two wires popped out and seconds after then hit the man'' wife beater, he was hit with more than enough volts to put down a Rhino. I watched in stunned silence as the man passed out and fell to the floor with a rather big thud. I walked over to where the man was and looked down at him, and he was totally out like a light. I decided rather than take any chances I would walk into the kitchen to grab the phone and call the police.


    When I strolled into the kitchen there was a latter on the island, so I picked it up and read it. I stopped to read the letter because I recognized David''s handwriting on it. The letter was addressed to someone named Josh, and it said that everyone would be gone for the night and that he was to relax, keep working and they''d all be back tomorrow. My heart suddenly sunk as I read this. Not only was the man telling the truth, but it also meant David wasn''t spending the weekend here alone. I had no idea what to do, but calling the police was no longer an option. I walked back into the living room and removed the two taser spikes from the man''s chest. I put the taser away and started to pace the room, wondering what I was going to do next, but fate made that decision for me. The man on the floor had begun to wake up.


    "Son of a bitch," the man said, groaning as he sat up, "That fucking hurt!"


    "I need you to answer one question," I called out to him.


    "Fine," the man said, "Just don''t do that again."


    "What is your name?" I asked him.


    "I''m Josh," the man replied, "And you are?"


    "Very sorry," I answered, trying to be vague. "I saw the letter David wrote in the kitchen, I''m not used to seeing other people up here."


    "Alright," Josh said, as he started to pick himself off the floor. "We''ve established that I am not a criminal, and that we are both acquainted with David Parsons. That''s a start."


    "What are you doing here?" I asked him. "How do you know David?"


    "I don''t know him too well," Josh honestly replied, "My wife works for him. We were invited here to spend the weekend for some sort of business retreat."


    "A business retreat?" I repeated, "Seriously?"


    "It wasn''t my idea," Josh added, "Angie insisted I come along so that she could use this weekend to ass kiss her way up the corporate ladder. I think she''s trying too hard personally, and that she need to let her work do the talking."


    "That''s a good policy," I agreed, "David doesn''t like ass kissers either. He finds any attempt to suck up rather revolting."


    "You seem to know David rather well," Josh said, "How well do you know him?"


    "Once again, that''s none of your bee''s wax." I reminded him.


    "Well, you did say you were not used to seeing other people here." Josh recalled, "And if you two are spending time up here all by your lonesome, then it doesn''t take a rocket scientist to figure that mystery out. I''m a guy, I can read between the lines. And yes, this is all none of my bee''s wax."


    "If you know that," I continued, "Then why are you making this awkward?"


    "Because there''s something you really need to know," Josh said as he walked closer. "David isn''t our only host. Mrs. Parsons is here for the weekend as well."

 37. Mr. Parsons

    As the sun started to make it''s way behind the mountains, the campfire''s glow gave the tents and trailer look more homely then they looked when we first arrived. When the shroud of darkness finally fell, any kind of shelter starts to look more appealing. I took the food from my wife and started to grill up the steaks and put on the baked potatoes. My wife and the ladies were making a nice salad to go with them, so dinner was nicely covered. This was going to be a rather pleasant meal, and since there were no vegans here I cooked away confident there would be no issues. While I was confident in my abilities, I wanted as many people to feel involved as possible. This was to be a shared experience to get to know everyone more, so I reached out to Jimbo as he was walking closer to me.


    "You wanna help with the grilling, Jim?" I called out as he got closer to me.


    "Sure," Jimbo called back as he appeared eager to assist. "I''d love to help. I just need to take a leak, first."


    "Actually, you''ll have to wait." I said to him, aware of something he didn''t. "I think Angie is in the bathroom right now."


    "That''s alright," Jimbo replied as he was walking away from the camp, towards the wooded area. "I''m a man, which means the world is my urinal. I''ll go over there and find a nice bush to water. I''ll be right back."


    "Sounds good," I called out, as I watched Jimbo disappear into the trees to become one with nature, which was about to be come his urinal. I couldn''t help but feel amused by it all. Jimbo wasn''t the kind of guy many in my circle could see me hanging out with, but we had a lot more in common than I did with them.


    "Honey," My wife called out. "Where''s he going?"


    "He had to pee," I informed her, "And he didn''t appear to be willing to wait."


    "How is the food coming?" she then asked me.


    "I just got started," I replied, "Should take another ten to fifteen minutes. Is that alright?"


    "That''s perfect," My wife acknowledged. "We''ll be ready around then as well."


    "Alright, good plan." I said, as I gingerly flipped the steaks. The potatoes were just nestled away from the open flame but close enough that they were cooking rather nicely in their tin foil blankets with care. I was patiently waiting for Jimbo to return from watering the woods when a loud sound came from that very direction.


    BAM!


    The sound rang out without warning that I shook from it right beside the grill. It had been so long since I heard that sound that at first I didn''t believe it. That was until I heard it again.


    BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!


    At this point everyone at the camp site was a little freaked out and even scared.


    BAM!!!


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    "What the fuck was that?" Mrs. Parsons called out.


    "That was gunfire," Nicholas said, getting out of his chair.


    "Where''s Jimbo?" Rachel called out.


    "Nic," I said, reaching out the tongs to him, "Watch the food. I''m going to check it out."


    "Alright, Boss." Nicholas said, as it seemed he wasn''t eager to go anywhere. He appeared very happy with the task being assigned to him.


    My wife looked worried and had a look that forbid me to investigate but I ignored it as I walked into the woods through the same spot that Jimbo has used to go out to pee. After walking a few minutes, I spotting Jimbo and started to run up to him. As I got closer, I noticed that Jimbo was holding a gun. It was obvious that he was the source of the gunfire.


    "Jim!" I called out as I got closer. "What is going on?"


    "Sorry, David." Jimbo said, checking his handgun. "This was an act of self defense."


    "Really?" I said, eager to know more. "Defense from what?"


    "From this fella," Jimbo said, pointing in a general direction.


    I followed Jimbo towards it, and lying on the ground dead from a few fatal gunshot wounds was a cougar. The animal had a few bullets in it''s torso, and one last one in its head.


    "Damn," I said looking down at the dead animal.


    "Sorry about that, Sir." Jimbo repeated, as he didn''t'' want to shoot it.


    "You shot a cougar!" I said, more surprised than shocked. I was more surprised that there were cougars in the area, let alone roaming around the campsite.


    "He attacked me while I was trying to pee," Jimbo replied, "The bastard tried to sneak up on me while my back was turned. What was I supposed to do? Use harsh language?"


    It was moments later when my wife and the other ladies through the trees to see what was going on. Most of them gasped with horror when they saw the big cat lying on ground that had blood all over it. All the women turned to look a Jimbo who was still holding the smoking gun in his right hand.


    "Seriously?" Jimbo said, when he saw their gazes. "If I didn''t shoot this bugger, he would have been having me for supper tonight. I will not apologize for defending myself."


    Rachel was the first to respond and she walked up to hug her fiance.


    "I''m sorry," she said squeezing him with her arm. "I''m glad that you''re safe."


    "Still," Angie said, looking down a the carcass. "Nice shooting."


    "Thanks," Jimbo said, putting his gun away. "I didn''t want to do it. I even warned the bastard a few times. He just came at me. He must have been pretty hungry to be desperate enough to go after one of us."


    "That''s what I was thinking too," I admitted, "They usually don''t get to close to the camps unless they''re starved and have no other choice."


    "So, what do we do with it?" Angie asked.


    "We take it back to camp," I said, turning to face my wife. "Get one of the blankets, an old ratty one you don''t mind getting rid of."


    "What for?" My wife asked, rather repulsed by the idea.


    "We can''t leave it here," I said to her.


    "He''s right," Jimbo concurred, "We leave it here and other animals will come to eat it and that could cause more problems for us rather than less."


    "I''ll call animal control in the morning," I added, "They''ll come and take it away. They''re used to taking care of situations like this."


    "Let''s go camping," My wife said, giving me a hard stare. "It will be fun, right?"


    "It has been fun so far!" I retorted, "Full of surprises."


    I watched as my wife and the two ladies with her walked away and back towards the campsite with both Jimbo and I watching as they left.


    "We''re in trouble, aren''t we?" Jimbo asked.


    "We sure are," I agreed, "So much trouble."


    "Sorry about that, Sir." Jimbo repeated.


    "Don''t be," I said to him, looking back at the cougar on the ground. "It was attacking you. If you didn''t shoot it, you''d be off for the hospital, or worse being dragged back for many cats to eat you whole. You made the right call."


    "And yet we''re still in trouble," Jimbo added. "How is that fair?"


    "With women nothing is ever fair," I said to Jimbo, "No matter what happens you''re screwed. So if she''s gonna get mad anyway, make sure she is mad at you for the right reasons."


    "Amen to that," Jimbo said, "Let''s get this thing back to camp."

 38. Rachel

    When the first shot rang out, I thought it was a firecracker or something. It was however loud enough to also get everyone else''s attention as well. Mr. Parsons was at the grill, overseeing the cooking of our supper when the shot came out, and it startled him. Then three more shots rang out, proving that the first wasn''t a fluke. Everyone at the camp site were looking around and at each other, unsure what to make of it. I looked over at Angie and Mrs. Parsons and they book look worried, even terrified.


    "What the fuck was that?" Mr. Parsons said, still taken aback by it all.


    "That was gunfire," Nicholas said, as he stood up from his chair.


    "Where''s Jimbo?" I called out, as I noticed he was the only person missing from camp.


    "Nic," Mr. Parsons called out, passing the tongs over to him. "Watch the food. I''m going to check it out."


    "Alright, boss." Nic said as he took the tongs and took his place near the food. He didn''t look interested in investigating so he appeared pleased to take over the grill rather than be asked to venture out and find out what the hell was transpiring.


    I stood there with Angie and Mrs. Parsons, rather shocked myself, as we watched Mr. Parsons leave the camp site and enter the woods in the direction the shots came from. I looked back at the boss'' wife and could see the look of worry on her face.


    "I wouldn''t worry too much," I told Mrs. Parsons, "Odds are that was Jimbo doing the shooting."


    "He brought a gun?" Mrs. Parsons asked, "Why would he do that?"


    "I''m not sure myself," I answered, "But I''m sure we''ll get a good reason rather soon."


    "I''m not going to wait to find out," Mrs. Parsons said, laying her knife down. "Let''s go."


    Angie and I followed Mrs. parsons into the woods, and mere moments later we caught up with Mr. Parsons who was speaking with Jimbo who was unharmed and doing alright. Jimbo was also holding his gun, which I knew he had brought out with him but didn''t want to mention unless I really had to. Jimbo was a bit believer in using guns for protection, and laying on the ground with several bullet holes in it was a good reason to keep one around. The cougar wasn''t breathing and lay there motionless as all the ladies looked back at Jimbo with shocked faces.


    "Seriously," Jimbo said upon seeing our faces, "If I didn''t shoot this bugger, it would have had me for supper tonight. I will not apologize for defending myself."


    No one else replied to that statement, but I walked up to my fiance and gave him a big hug. I was just happy to see him in one piece and doing alright.


    "I''m sorry," I said to him, squeezing him tightly. "I''m glad that you''re safe."


    "Still," Angie added, "Nice shooting."


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    "Thanks," Jimbo said, relieved to not be getting an anti-gun lecture. "I didn''t want to do it. I even warned the bastard a few times. He just came at me. Must have been pretty hungry to be desperate enough to go after one of us."


    After a little debate, Jimbo and Mr. Parsons decided to bring the cougar carcass back to the camp. The ladies and I went back first while the men picked up and slowly walked the big, dead cat back with them. Nic was still manning the grill as he watched everyone return. His eyes looked as big as saucers when he saw the two men carrying back the big cat.


    "Sorry guys," Nic called out, "There''s not enough room on the grill for that."


    "Ha, Ha," Jimbo said, as he walked past Nic with the carcass.


    "This is to keep other predators away from our camp," Mr. Parson said, taking the tongs back from Nic, "Last thing we need is more of them wandering around."


    "I''ve kind of lost my appetite," Angie said, as she didn''t look that well. "I''m going to my tent."


    "I understand dear," Mrs. Parsons said, looking rather sympathetic. "I''ll leave something for you in case you get hungry later."


    "Thank you," Angie said before disappearing behind the zipped up walls of her tent.


    "Are you alright," Jimbo called out to me, "You don''t well either."


    "I''ll be alright," I replied, "A little shaken, but I''m famished. I want some food!"


    "It''s coming," said Mr. Parsons, as he understood my impatience.


    As Mr. Parsons and his wife resumed getting the evening meal ready, I walked over to where Jimbo was stashing the dead cougar and put an arm around his waist and hugged him as I arrived to check up on him.


    "Are you alright?" I asked him, still shocked by what had happened.


    "I''m good," Jimbo replied, leaning over to kiss my brow. "I''ve had worse."


    "Seriously?" I asked him, doubting he was attacked by anything larger than that cat.


    "Seriously," Jimbo confirmed, "There was one time I had to shoot a..."


    "Aright people," Mr. Parsons then called out, "The food is finally ready. Come and get it!"


    Jimbo and I returned to the campfire where the food was being cooked, and the two hosts handed out a plate to everyone that had steaks, a baked potato, and salad. It wasn''t anything too fancy, but after all the walking and stress I had I was ready to eat anything.


    "Thank you, Sir." I said, sitting down on one of the lawn chairs to eat my meal. I had to balance the plate out on my knees but it could have been worse. At least we had real plates and not something made of paper that would crumble when trying to cut the steak.


    "This is pretty cool," Jimbo said as he sat beside me. "Good food, open air, and even better company."


    "Thank you," Mr. Parsons replied, "This surprise hasn''t always been taken well. Some people are just not made for camping."


    "I think Angie might be one of them," Nic said, noticing that she never came out of her tent.


    "That might be my fault," Jimbo replied, "Those shots must have startled her."


    No one laughed at that, but I covered my mouth to hide a smile that might have appeared on my face. I was amused by the fact that Angie was cowering away in her tent. Was she missing Josh, or did those shots and the dead cat really freak her out that badly. I''m not sure how her hiding was going over with the Parsons but it couldn''t hurt me as I was out here and being brave. She was acting like a scared princess, hiding in her metaphorical castle. It was rather funny but I tried to play it straight.


    It was at this moment, when some lights started to approach the campsite. It was on the road so we knew it was a car, but as it got closer to the tents blue lights turned on to let us know that the person arriving was a member of the local law enforcement. Mr. Parsons got up and walked over to greet the man, and they appeared to know one another as they shook hands and were chummy and laughing it up.


    "What''s going on, Bill?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "We got reports from several campers about gunfire in the area," Bill replied, "Would you guys know anything about that?"

 39. Bill

    The weekend had been relatively quiet, and while I''m not one for superstition, I knocked on wood every time that word had crossed my mind. The last thing that I wanted to do was tempt fate and end up having the busiest weekend ever. With one of my deputies already out taking care of a call, I was all by my lonesome at the station and having a cup of tea. I was tempted to break open a candy bar, but the phone suddenly rang. Clearly I had tempted fate too much this evening and was about to pay the price.


    "Sheriff''s desk," I said, answering the phone.


    "Bill, it''s George," The voice on the other end said. George was the manager of the campsites by the lake.


    "Good evening, George," I said to my caller, "What can I help you with."


    "I need you to come down here and check on something," George answered, "I''m getting reports of gunshots coming from one of my campsites."


    "Gunshots?" I repeated, as that was the last thing I expected to hear. "Are you sure about that?"


    "Not really," George honestly replied, "I never heard them myself so I can''t confirm. For all we know they could have been firecrackers but multiple sites are saying it was a gun. Can you send someone down to look into it?"


    "Dave''s out on a call right now," I informed him as I thought about it. "But last thing I want is to get more calls about this so I''ll come down and look into it."


    "You will?" George said, rather surprised. "Thank you very much, Bill."


    "I''m leaving in a few minutes," I continued, "Meet me at the front gate."


    Just as I was walking out of the station to get to my far, Deputy Dave was just pulling back in from his call. He looked rather surprised to see me outside.


    "Sheriff," Dave said as he stepped out of the car, "Where are you heading?"


    "I''m heading down to George''s campsites," I answered him, "We got reports of possible gunfire, so I''m going to check it out to ease everyone''s nerves."


    "Gunfire?" Dave repeated, "You want me to come out too?"


    "No need," I said, as I didn''t think it was necessary. "This could just be firecrackers, or if it is a gun some jerk off shooting up into the night sky. I will call for help if I need it."


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    "Alright, Sheriff." Dave said, "I''ll be here if you need me."


    "Damn right you''ll be," I said, "That is what I pay you to do. I shouldn''t be long. I''ll grab some coffee on the way back."


    "Thanks," Dave said, before entering the station.


    I pulled the car out of the lot and slowly made my way down to the campground. George was at the main gates, waiting for me to arrive. I rolled down the window as I pulled up beside him.


    "Thanks for coming, Sheriff." George said.


    "Any more shots since we talked?" I asked him.


    "No, Sir." George answered, "None since the initial incident. But based on the people I talked to, it was coming from the north side by the lake."


    "How many spots are used over there?" I asked him.


    "Just one," George replied, "The Parsons have a small group up there for the night."


    "Alright, I''ll talk to them first." I said, since that seemed to be the best way to go. "I''ll update you if I find anything."


    "Thanks again, Sheriff." George said as he stepped back and watched as I pulled away.


    It took me only a few moments to drive over to the Parsons campsite, and as I approached the area, I flipped the lights on to let them know I was a member of law enforcement. Upon seeing my lights, I could see Parsons walk up to meet me as I parked the car and turned the lights off. I stepped out of the car and met Parsons half way and shook the man''s hand. I knew David for over twenty years, so I didn''t expect anything less than the truth from him and his wife.


    "What''s going on, Bill?" Mr. Parsons asked.


    "We got reports from several campers about gunfire in the area," Bill replied, "Would you guys know anything about that?"


    "As a matter of fact, I do." Parsons answered, "We had an incident, and one of my guests was forced to defend himself."


    "He was attacked?" I said, surprised to hear that wasn''t reported. "By whom?"


    "More like a what," Parsons answered, "Come on, I''ll show you."


    I was both intrigued and curious, so I eagerly followed David as he led me back to his camp and he walked over to a table, and moved a blanket that was covering it, and there was the body of a cougar that was stone cold dead. I counted as many as five bullet holes in it, and the shots were close to each other in a tight pattern. The person who shot it was a marksman.


    "Who did this?" I asked David.


    "I did," A man said as he walked up.


    "What''s your name?" I asked the man who walked up to us.


    "I''m James," The man answered, "But people call me Jimbo."


    "What happened here, Jimbo?" I asked him, "Why did you shoot this animal?"


    "I was taking a piss in the woods," Jimbo answered, "And this bitch tried to sneak up on me while I was draining my main vein."


    "And that''s when you shot it?" I asked.


    "No," Jimbo replied, "I fired a warning shot hoping that it might scare it away. All it did was anger it, and that''s when it attacked. I had no choice but to defend myself so I put it down."


    "Damn, these creatures usually don''t act that way." I said, examining the body. "I''m just glad to hear no one was injured beside the cat."


    "I hope we didn''t scare anyone," David said, looking genuinely worried.


    "I think everyone will be fine," I replied, "George was a bit worried, but he should be fine."


    "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Jimbo asked.


    "I''m afraid so," I said, sighing deeply. "Put your hands behind your back, son. You''re under arrest."

 40. Nicholas

    While at first I was surprised to see the sheriff arrive, it did occur to me a few minutes later that someone was bound to call the authorities after shots were fired near a camp site. Another assumption that I made was that Jimbo would give a reasonable explanation and that all would be well and we could go back to our crappy camping trip. Yet I was wrong yet again as I watched Jimbo turn around, put his hands behind his back, and allow the sheriff to cuff him.


    "What the hell?" I called out, hopping out of my chair. "He was defending himself!"


    "I don''t interpret the law," The sheriff replied, "I just enforce it. Your friend has a very good defense and I''m sure any reasonable judge will accept it. But I''m not a judge, so he comes with me until the matter is settled."


    "Guys, just relax." Jimbo said, trying to be the voice of reason, which was another unexpected surprise to everyone who was watching.


    "Where is the gun right now?" the sheriff inquired.


    "In the tent," Jimbo answered, "Black gym bag. I usually keep it on me, but decided to keep it off my person in case you came over."


    "Smart man," the sheriff said, walking into the tent to retrieve the gun. Seconds later he emerged with the small handgun. "I''ll take good care of it."


    "Much appreciated," Jimbo replied, "We''ve been through hell together."


    "Combat vet?" the sheriff asked.


    "Yes, Sir." Jimbo answered.


    "Same here," The sheriff added, "David and are were in the same division."


    "Bill," David said, "Take good care of him, I''ll have bail ready and get him out asap."


    "I expected nothing less," the sheriff said, "But I still have to do my job. Sorry everyone."


    "What about the body?" David said, rather patronizing. "You gonna wake up the coroner as well?"


    "I''ll come back out in the morning to grab it," the sheriff replied, grinning at his friend.


    I couldn''t believe what I was witnessing as Jimbo was put into the back of the car, and it slowly left the campsite. I walked over to Rachel who was pretty much still in a state of shock, and gave her a hug to be supporting.


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    "Don''t worry," I whispered into her ear, "If your boss doesn''t get him the best lawyer, I know people who can. We''ll take care of this."


    "Thank you," Rachel said, as she them smelt something, "I smell something burning."


    Everyone was so concerned with what was going on with Jimbo, the steaks over the fire were left unattended too long and were started to develop an overblown char. I quickly went to the pit and flipped them, and while they were a little dark it didn''t look too bad.


    "I think they''re ready, Sir." I called out to Mr. Parsons.


    I was right, as Mr. Parsons took the meat off the grill and gave it to his wife who was finishing up the sides and served everything up. Everyone took a plate and sat down in the chairs around the fire, but no one was saying a damn thing. We chewed our food, and said nothing as I assume everyone was still processing what had just happened to Jimbo. First Josh was too tired to wake and Jimbo pumped a cougar full of iron. We were losing friends, as David and I were the last men standing, and outnumbered by the women.


    "Are you alright, Nic?" Mrs. Parsons asked, trying to talk about anything.


    "I''m feeling better, thanks." I said, as I took another bite of the steak, "I just feel back about Jimbo. He didn''t do anything wrong."


    "I know that," Mr. Parsons responded, "I''ll make sure we get him the best attorney and we''ll make these charges go away."


    "Thank you," Rachel said, the first words she had spoke since sitting down to eat. I could tell that she wasn''t in the mood to talk about anything after what happened. She was likely going to crash in her tent early.


    "I wonder what Josh is doing?" I asked, trying to change the subject.


    "Knowing him," Angie said, thinking about it for a moment, "He''s probably been writing and talking to his agent all day. And probably roaming around in just a robe and boxers. he gets more don''t when not wearing restrictive clothing."


    "Good to know," Mr. Parsons replied, "Too much info, but it''s good to hear he''s getting some work done."


    "That is one benefit to being a writer," Angie added, "It doesn''t matter where he is, whether on a weekend retreat or at the beach in paradise. That kind of mindset doesn''t have an off switch. No matter where he is, he''s always writing or thinking about writing."


    "That''s rather interesting," Mrs. Parsons said, "So he never takes a break?"


    "Sometimes, but now always." Angie replied.


    "Fascinating," Mr. Parsons added, "I had no idea writers clocked in so much time to finish their works."


    "It depends on what kind of momentum he''s got," Angie explained, "If he''s on a role, he doesn''t even want to sleep. But when it''s a struggle, he''ll make up for lost time and veg out. It all eventually evens out, it''s just so chaotic."


    "That''s an interesting way to put it," I replied, finding the insight so intriguing.


    "Regardless of how he''s doing," Angie added, "There a chance he''d rather be out here."


    "Are you sure about that," I asked her, "He''s sitting pretty not having to stay in a tent."


    "True," Angie agreed, "But I think he would have found the cougar incident rather interesting and even inspiring.


    "He''ll have to take our word for it," Mr. Parsons said, "That will have to do."


    "To be fair," I continued, "I''d rather be where he is right now. I''d rather not sleep in a tent. I don''t mean to complain but if Josh is working, he''s doing it quite comfortably."


    "No arguments there," Angie agreed, "He''s probably kicking it back right now and just chilling."

 41. Joshua

    I could tell that the new of Mrs. Parsons also being up here for the weekend had disturbed the young lady a great deal. Based on that reaction, it wasn''t hard to tell that the woman who tasered my ass just a short while ago was David Parsons'' mistress. Not that I could blame him, as this Megan chick was a very attractive looking young lady. Big time emphasis on young, because she looked to be at least a few years under thirty, which would make Parsons at least fifteen years older than her, maybe even twenty. Meagan was slender, frail like a flower, and had a nice tush ass that told me all I needed to know why she was so sought after by powerful men. Yet she was also tough, as her ability to taser my into unconsciousness would tell anyone. My body still ached from that, but there was no way I wasn''t going to use that experience in a future book. I like to share my pains with my readers, so this would be no different.


    I could tell the news of Mrs. Parsons hosting of this event rattled the young lady a great deal. I was pretty sure the two women had ever met, and Meagan pretty much never wanted to ever occur. She kept to herself and was unsure how to respond to that information. Instead she retreated into the kitchen, and made a pot of tea. I followed her in and watched as she put it together, not even asking if I wanted a cup. I could tell as she was making the pot that she knew where everything was, almost as if she had been living her for quite a while, which led me to believe that she visited here often. I suspect most of those visits were private ones with David. I knew this had the potential to blow up in everyone''s face if I didn''t hand it correctly.


    As I took a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, I watched with amusement as she also dug around the cupboards to get the flavor of tea that she preferred.


    "What?" Meagan said, as she noticed that I was watching.


    "Nothing important," I said, looking rather amused. "I''m not noticing how familiar you are with the kitchen. If I didn''t know better, I would have thought that you lived here."


    "Is that so?" Meagan said, taking as a compliment more than a slight.


    "That is so," I concurred, "Which tells me this affair has been going on for years."


    "Why do you have to call it that?" Meagan asked.


    "Because that''s what it is," I replied, "You are sleeping with a married man, so what do you think I should call it?"


    "Fair enough," Meagan said, gesturing to the pot. "Did you want a cup?"


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    "Considering the headache I have, it''s the least you could do," I replied and then paused, "Yes, Please."


    "Sorry about that," Meagan said, "For tasing you that is. I''m not used to other people being here and you scared me."


    "I get it," I said, trying to not be such an jerk. "I might have done the same in your shoes. Taser first and ask questions later. It still hurt though, but I get it."


    "This should help," Meagan said, handing a cup of hot tea over the counter.


    "Thank you," I said, accepting her modest offering. "I wish we had some food."


    "We do," Meagan corrected me, "I brought it with me. I usually bring food when I come over. This time I grabbed a few sushi platters from David''s favorite place."


    "Oh," I said, looking rather surprised. "I like sushi."


    "Well, we might as well." Meagan said, smiling back. "This is what I get for trying to surprise the man. I thought he sounded rather stressed."


    "He is," I agreed, "Just not for the reason you thought. He was probably stressed about this weekend and naming a new executive. This whole trip was an extended job interview for the newly and highly coveted position."


    "Oh, one of those getaways." Meagan said, "So what are you here for then?"


    "Support I suppose," I answered, "And I also think the Parsons wanted to meet the significant others so that they can make sure home life doesn''t interfere with the new job."


    "Interesting approach," Meagan confessed, "Seems rather underhanded."


    "Just a tad," I agreed.


    "I''ll be right back," Meagan said, as she left the kitchen. She came back moments later carrying two small boxes that I can only assume were the sushi platters.


    "Whoa," I said, as she put them down, "That''s a fair bit of sushi."


    "Well, we usually eat them over the course of the weekend." Meagan answered, "So we''ll share this one and stash the other in the fridge."


    "Sounds good to me," I said, looking at the platter as she opened the box. "Looks nice."


    "It''s expensive," Meagan said, "But I put it on David''s card."


    "What a guy," I said, grabbing a piece and popping it into my mouth. It was fucking amazing. I know I should feel bad eating his food, but the piece of shit is sleeping around on his wife so he''ll have bigger fish to fry when he gets back with the gang.


    "So let''s start over," Meagan said, "My name is Meagan Peters."


    "Joshua Packard," I said, quickly tossing another piece of sushi in my mouth.


    "That''s cool," Meagan said, "Any relation to the writer J.R. Packard?"


    "Are you a fan?" I asked, curious to why she had asked.


    "Oh yes!" Meagan said, quite excitedly, "I''ve read all his books. I''m halfway through his newest hardcover right now, and it''s in my bag. I usually do some reading when David does any work during our weekends."


    "I see," I said, amused by the irony of the moment. "Do you know what J.R. stands for?"


    "I remember hearing it somewhere," Meagan said, "But I forget."


    "I can help with that," I said, smiling back at her. "It''s Joshua Robert."


    "Excuse me?" Meagan said, as the info was taking a while to set in.


    "I''m J.R. Packard," I informed her, "You just tasered your favorite writer."

 42. Jimbo

    When the Sheriff put the cuffs on me, I had a moment of disbelief. I had shot that big fucking cat in self-defense, but that didn''t change the fact that I was under arrest and being put into the back of a squad car. I could see the disappointment in Rachel''s face, but at the same time I knew it was a bit of an act, so she could totally milk it for sympathy. David was sure to be embarrassed by what was going on, and that would turn things to my girl''s advantage. Rachel didn''t need anyone to fight her battles for her, but I did it just because it made me feel good and like a man. But Josh wasn''t there either, so it''s not like she would be outnumbered. If anything, being arrested by the sheriff only even the odds. As we were leaving the camp grounds and getting back onto the roads, the Sheriff could see my thoughts were elsewhere.


    "You alright, son?" the sheriff asked from the front seat.


    "I''ll be fine, Sir." I replied, "I''m not fond of leaving my partner on her own, but she''s tough and can take care of herself. It''s one of the things I like about her."


    "Sounds like a keeper in my books," The sheriff replied, "But none of this Sir, bullshit. You can call me Bill."


    "Well, Bill." I said, taking advantage of the break in decorum, "Did you need to be such a ball buster here? I mean it was self defense."


    "Like I said before," Bill recalled, "I don''t pick the laws to enforce. If you have a good reason, take it up with the judge."


    "That''s not what I meant," I replied, "You could have just taken away my gun and issued a summons and I could have surrendered at a later time or appeared for court. Did the arrest seem really necessary?"


    "Fraid so, son." Bill answered, "You fired off a gun in a public park ground. I can''t let people do that in my town, so it was necessary."


    "Fair enough," I said, as it was clear to understand.


    "I appreciate your understanding," Bill continued, "Most city folks seem to not appreciate the key to fair law enforcement is to make no exceptions. We have to remain consistent for order."


    "I get it," I repeated, "Your job is tough and thankless, just like mine."


    "I noticed the make of the gun," Bill said, "How long did you serve?"


    "I still do," I answered, "I''m still active with the reserves."


    "Good for you," Bill complimented, "I''ll make sure this is well taken care of. I used to serve as well so I respect how important a man''s sidearm is."


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    "Thank you," I said, relaxing into the seat as well as I could.


    It took the Sheriff about ten more minutes to drive us back to the station, and then he pulled into a sweet parking space which I am sure was reserved for him. He pulled me out of the pack and slowly walked me into the station. The deputy that was at the desk seemed rather surprised that the sheriff was returning with someone in shackles. I doubt they had many arrests considering how slow and calm things are in this hick town.


    "Hey Sheriff," The deputy called out, "What''s this guy in for?"


    "Two counts, Nate." Bill said as he escorted me to the desk. "Book him for discharging of a firearm, and for killing an endangered animal."


    "Oh, okay." Nate replied, "I''ll get right to it, boss."


    Bill handed me off to his slow, yet loyal worker bee and immediately processed me for the two charges the Sheriff asked for. It was straight out of a television show, as I was fingerprinted, had mug shots taken, and asked basic questions before being escorted to a cell. There were only give cells in the back room and all of them were empty. That meant I was going to be their only occupant that night barring any crime waves.


    "What time is check out?" I asked Nate as her started to walk me to the back room. "What''s the WiFi password?"


    "Give it a rest, smartass!" Bill called out, "It may not be the four seasons but I''m willing to bet that cot is going to be a lot more comfy than the ground would have been where your tent was in the camp grounds."


    "Touche, Sheriff." I called back, as he was clearly right about that.


    Nate tossed me into what looked like the cleanest cell, and slammed the door behind me. I watched as the deputy left without a word and was stuck in there for at least the time being. It wasn''t a small cell and could hold at least three our four rather comfortably if necessary. Yet it was all mine so I picked a cot and stretched out on it. I had no contact with my jailers until close to a half hour later when Bill came strolling into the back.


    "I''m heading out to grab supper for myself and Nate," he informed me, "I assume the food cooking when I arrived was your supper and you haven''t eaten yet?"


    "You assumed correctly, Sheriff." I confirmed.


    "Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?" Bill asked, "Or if you''re a vegan?"


    "No allergies, and I eat meat like a man." I informed him, "You seem like a reasonable guy, I''ll take whatever you''re having."


    "Alright, sounds good." Bill said, "Nate''s going out to get some grub right now. We''ll eat in about thirty. That okay?"


    "Sounds fine," I said, "Thank you, Sir."


    I watched as the sheriff gave a big huff before walking out of the room, sounding like a man who was like a classic care. Still looked decent for his age, but the mileage was a tad high and the engine light was probably going off. I laid back down on the cot and closed my eyes, trying to pretend this was a hotel, and room service was just ordered. Well, compared to roughing it out at the campsite, this was a lot more like a hotel. At least I didn''t have to worry about rain or the elements. I did notice some clouds in the distance, so I hope the campers are not poured on too much. Not like I cared that much anyway, as I was sure they''d all have a better time with out the bitter, sarcastic man around. I sighed deeply and remembered that Josh was still at the cabin, and relaxing while everyone was out. At least I had food coming, but knowing my luck that big sheriff was probably going to have a salad. Based on the Bill''s expanding waistline, I was betting on getting a greasy cheeseburger and fries.

 43. Meagan

    I had never been so humiliated in my entire life. I never meant to hurt him, but I was just acting off of instinct. There a strange man in the house when I arrived to have my monthly romp with David, so I thought it was an intruder. Not only was it not a burglar, it happened to be the very writer who I''ve spent the better part of five years worshiping the very ground that he walked on. Yet there he was, sitting across from me and eating Sushi in David''s place, still recovering from the blast that knocked him out hours ago. I still can''t believe I did that to him, and he must still hate me for shocking him with my taser.


    "I am so sorry," I said, as it was the first thing that popped into my head.


    "You said that already," Josh reminded me, "And I believed you the first time."


    "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, as my mind was blank. "Are you here to write?"


    "My girlfriend works for Mr. Parsons," He reminded me, "I''m just her plus one because employee invited down here was asked to bring their significant other. To answer your other question, I have been getting some writing done this weekend."


    "Really?" I said, sounding like an excited school girl, "What kind of story is it?"


    "Oh no," Josh said as he reached out to his laptop and slapped it closed. "No one reads my work while I''m composing it. That tends to cause problems and chaos, so I prefer not to talk about it."


    "I understand," I said, feeling a little disappointed inside. "Sorry about that."


    "It''s okay," Josh replied, "You didn''t know. I bring enough doubts to the table, I just don''t need anymore tossed onto the fire. It''s nothing personal."


    "Fair enough," I said, as I tried to relax. "I just can''t believe we''re eating sushi together. I''ve been reading your latest book and it''s been amazing so far!"


    "Thank you," Josh said, as I could see the glimmer of a grin. He was doing his best to hide his glee and take it with modesty. It made him look really cute in my eyes.


    "So are we going to see a movie on that one too?" I asked him, aware that most fans knew he was negotiating the film rights with several studios.


    "The quick answer is yes," Josh said, being less modest this time. "The only question is which studio will be producing it."


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    "Wow," I said, excited to getting the inside info, "This is all so exciting."


    "It is," Josh confirmed, "But I''d rather be writing something new, and just move on."


    "But why?" I asked him, "Can''t you take a moment to savor the success your book is enjoying? You''re in the spotlight, can''t you just take it all in for a moment?"


    "Not really," Josh confessed, "Because I''m a writer. Whenever I''m not writing, I''m always thinking about writing. There''s only one goal, and that''s the next book. We never take a break or go on vacation because we''re always working. Even if I''m sitting in a chair and daydreaming, that is still the job for us. What dreams to one person is brainstorming plots idea and coming up with characters for the next story. For some of us that never ends."


    "That''s very interesting," I said, "I never really thought of it that way."


    "Sometimes I feel something''s building up inside me," Josh tried to explain, "And if I don''t get it out and vent, then I fear that I might explode... metaphorically of course."


    "Of course," I said with a laugh, more like a small pity chuckle. I had no idea that he took his craft so seriously, far more seriously than I''ve seen other people take their jobs. Those people just clock in, do their eight and go home. According to Josh writers never clock out, and are always thinking about what to write next. That sounds intense, and exhausting.


    "I have a copy here with me," I reminded him, "Can you sign it for me?"


    "Who should I sign it out to," Josh asked, "To the woman that tazed me?"


    "Well, Meagan would be fine," I said, trying to forget our first encounter.


    "Last thing I want to do is lose a fan," Josh said, taking another piece of salmon. "Of course I''ll sign it for you. I hope you''re enjoying it."


    "I am!" I said, almost giggling like a school girl. "It''s so good!"


    "Thank you," Josh said, as if he had never heard that before. He seemed rather modest about his work despite there being thousands of great reviews already on every site online.


    "What are you working on right now?" I asked him.


    "What makes you think I am?" Josh said, slyly deflecting.


    "You said it, always writing." I reminded him.


    "Touche," Josh said, even smirking about it. "I''m working on something new, inspired by the lively events of last night."


    "What happened last night?" I asked him.


    "I''m sorry," Josh said, "Sometimes I forget that you just got here. It turns out this entire weekend isn''t a couple''s retreat but is in fact a secret job interview."


    "That''s odd," I said, thinking about it. "Dave brought everyone here to interview them?"


    "He wanted to see how people naturally responded without knowing that a big job was on the line," Josh explained, "But the cat came out of the bag at the dinner table last night and that''s when it all hit the fan."


    "At the dinner table?" I repeated, "Oh that must have been exciting."


    "More like confrontational," Josh continued, "Everyone here are alphas, and no one was willing to surrender an inch. People were being zinged and roasted right, left and center. It was a bloodbath to be honest."


    "Metaphorically, of course." I added.


    "Yes, of course." Josh agreed, "Dave was being a little underhanded and those in the running didn''t appreciate it and let it be known in front of everyone. It was ugly, and I mean bowling shoe ugly."


    "Ouch," I said, "You have to tell me everything."


    "Alright," Josh said, as he waved around an empty glass. "But I need a refill first."

 44. Angie

    Despite Jim being arrested by the local sheriff, Nicolas still managed to serve the food without horribly burning it. We all sat around the fire and ate our food in silence, which was the exact opposite of what kind of meal we had the night before. I''ll be the first to admit that without Josh or Jim around to push things forward, there were not a lot of people who wanted to speak. The shooting and arrest also kind of bummed a lot of people out, and that had to be considered as well to explain the current mood. I could only imagine how the boss felt, as this was clearly not the kind of weekend Mr. Parsons wanted to have. He wanted to see a friendly exchange of ideas to evaluate people by and instead of got chaos and was no closer to picking someone for the job that was recently vacated. It was clear to everyone that Rachel wasn''t happy about what had happened, and both Mr. Parsons and his wife were trying to reassure her things would be alright.


    "I''ve left several messages with my lawyer," Mr. Parsons would remind her. "We''ll get him out as soon as we can and I''m sure the charges will be dropped."


    "He''s right," Nicholas said, trying to act supportive. "Once they realize the cat attacked first, no D.A. will want to waste their time on this. They''ll totally dismiss."


    "Thanks for that," Rachel said, as she barely touched her food. "I suppose you''re right."


    "He is right," Mrs. Parsons concurred, "But the sheriff has to do his job, it''s not his discretion to ignore the law but just apply what''s in the books. We''ll make sure this goes away."


    "Thank you," Rachel said, as she stood up. "I don''t know about you guys, but I''m beat. I''m going to head to bed."


    "So soon?" Mr. parsons asked, but he wasn''t entirely surprised considering the events and the excitement that had already occurred. Jimbo''s cat shooting as well as his arrest for it seemed to kill any chance he had of trying to pick their brains again. He clearly had chosen not to try again afraid to get the same rejection as the night before.


    "We might as well call it a night," Mrs. Parson said, as she was feeling rather tired herself.


    "I suppose so," Mr. Parsons said, signaling his surrender to what everyone else was thinking.


    I watched as most of the people sitting around the fire slowly disburse. When most of them were gone, Nicholas and I were the only two left.


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    "Still awake?" I asked him.


    "A bit," Nicholas said, "I''m also very comfortable here, so I''d rather not move until I absolutely have to."


    "Is this weekend pretty much a bust?" I asked him, eager to get his views.


    "It might be," Nicholas said, smiling at the thought. "Might serve him right for trying to do something this underhanded to begin with. If he was more open about it, I doubt it would have been as confrontational as it turned out to be."


    "I think our better halves had more to do with that," I reminded him.


    "That is true," Nicholas conceded, "They are both rather outspoken and not afraid to show it."


    "They did appear to be in their element, didn''t they." I said, even laughing a bit. "I hope Josh is doing alright."


    "Oh, I''m sure he''s fine." Nicholas said, even pouting about it. "He''s indoors with a soft bed to lay on. And he''s got a fridge full of leftovers. I wish I was back there too."


    "That makes two of us," I agreed, wishing I was still with him. "Knowing my luck he''s having a great time and is writing another bestseller."


    "Wouldn''t doubt it," Nicholas said, "He''s doing rather well with those, isn''t he?"


    "Just a bit," I said, not hesitant to brag, "He''s been doing rather well and feeding off his current successes rather than let it go to his head."


    "I can only imagine what kind of writing this weekend inspired," Nicholas said, "I want a cut if our story ends up making him more millions."


    "Josh is very big on profit sharing," I said, "He would want to show his appreciation if something like that were to happen."


    "Good to hear," Nicholas said, saying nothing more on the subject.


    We both sat there in silence for a while, staring at the first as it lost its breath over time and started to dwindle down. Neither of us had the energy or the eagerness to toss anything into it to keep it going knowing that we''d both be heading for our tents soon, so there was no point. When it started to die rather low, I picked myself up and said goodnight to Nic before shuffling off for my tent. I was so tired from the walk that I didn''t care who was the last person at the fire. Contrary to what impression we were given, there was no competition anymore and I didn''t feel like staying up longer than I had to. Yet when I unzipped my tent, there was someone in there that I wasn''t expecting. Rachel had moved her sleeping bag and stuff into my tent and had taken up the right had side of it without even asking me. A part of me wanted to flip out and tell her off but I didn''t have the energy. Another part of me was confident that she was still upset about what happened to Jim and just didn''t want to be alone. Considering that Josh wasn''t here either, I could understand how she felt. Rachel was already asleep so I just moved over to what side of the tent was left and into my own sleeping bag. As long as she didn''t snore, I could put up with her for a few hours...


    "Angie?" Rachel softly whispered.


    "Yeah?" I replied.


    "You don''t mind sharing, do you?" Rachel asked.


    "Depends on what is being shared." I answered, "Tents I don''t mind, but not my men. I didn''t want to sleep alone either so I don''t mind."


    "Alright," Rachel said, rolling over. "Goodnight."


    "Night," I said, before rolling over to my own side.

 45. Mr. Parsons

    I watched as Angie went back to her tent and disappear for the night. She was rather quiet tonight and had little to say at the campfire. There was a chance she was feeling rather outnumbered and alone without Josh here. I walked out to Nicholas who was last person sitting at the fire. He was wrapped up in a blanket, and keeping as warm as he could. It wasn''t that cold out, but he still clung to the wrap as if there was a blizzard outside. Nic saw me getting closer and greeted me with a forced smile.


    "Hey boss," Nic started, "Not ready to call it a night?"


    "I''m getting there," I admitted, "But I thought I''d clean up a bit since I still have too much energy."


    "I know the feeling," Nic replied, "I can''t sleep until I have no energy left."


    "None?" I repeated.


    "Not a lick," Nic confirmed. "If I''m not near exhaustion, I can''t fall asleep. I''ll just be staring at the ceiling, and if I''m doing that I might as well be working."


    "Is that a part of your condition?" I asked him, mildly curious.


    "Kind of," Nic said, squirming in his seat.


    "What is this condition called?" I asked him, curious to know more.


    "It''s called Ankylosing Spondilitis," Nic answered, sighing deeply. "It took me a while to learn how to say it properly, still can''t spell it."


    "I''ve never heard of it," I confessed.


    "Not that surprising," Nic said, "It''s not widely know, and only effect less than a percent of the population. It''s hard to get help from anyone, even some medical personal because even some of them have never heard of it before."


    "That has to be frustrating," I added, feeling a bit bad about it.


    "You get used to it," Nic said, pretending like it wasn''t a big deal.


    "What does this do exactly?" I asked him.


    "I''ve heard someone else who had it describe it as arthritis on crack," Nic answered, "It''s not entirely accurate as my condition is much worse than that, but people seem to understand it a bit easier when described that way."


    "What''s the complicated way to explain it?" I asked him, as I didn''t want the dumbed down version.


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    "It''s an inflammatory disease," Nic started, "You get it from one of your parents, and in this case it was from my mother''s side. Over time, it can cause some of our bones in the spine to fuse together, and that can make us less flexible and result in a hunched posture. I''m on different meds to slow down the process and to manage pain, and those are actually more responsible for my insomnia rather than the disease."


    "That''s unfortunate," I said walking closer, "Is it worth the side effects?"


    "Most of the time, I would say yes." Nic said, "But sometimes when I have a bad flare, nothing seems to help and I just gotta ride it out."


    "A flare?" I asked, sounding rather confused.


    "People with my conditions get flares," Nic explained, "They comes out of nowhere and can sometimes leave us bedridden for days depending on where we''re hit."


    "On where you''re hit?" I again repeated.


    "The flares effect my joints the most," Nic again explained, "And it can be any joint on my body. From the shoulders all the way down to the knuckles of my toes."


    "That''s terrible," I said, sounding rather sympathetic. "Is there any one part that hurts the most when flaring up?"


    "The ribs," Nic answered, "They hurt the most and it can be difficult to breathe deeply when they''re flaring. It doesn''t matter how many pain meds I take, it still hurts like a mother..."


    "That''s alright," I interrupted, waving a hand. "I get the point."


    "Sorry about that," Nic said, "I don''t mean to dump this on you."


    "I''m sorry you have to suffer alone," I said, as I could hardly believe it.


    "It''s what we do," Nic said, "People who suffer with what I have rarely talk. It just doesn''t seem worth the effort. Half of the people don''t understand what''s going on, while the other half thinks we''re faking it for attention or to get out of work."


    "And you''ve learned to hide it and work with it," I said, noting how I rarely see this side of him during the days at the office. "Why is it so different not?"


    "Usually I get sore late at night," Nic answered, "The meds I take in the morning and mid-afternoon start to wear off around now as well."


    "I thought you said no meds could help the pain?" I asked, remembering what he said earlier.


    "That is true," Nic answered, as he nodded to concur, "But these meds I take are not pain killers, but rather anti-inflammatories, and other pills meant to increase mobility and not lower pain. I try to avoid pain killers, cause if you abuse them the body gets used to them and I''d rather save them for days when I''m really hurting."


    "They can also be addictive," I added, "So it''s wise to not take too many if you don''t have to. I had no idea you were feeling this way. How long have you been suffering like this?"


    "I was diagnosed about five years ago," Nic answered, "And I don''t need any special treatment. I can and will perform my job as expected when I return to work on Monday."


    "I have no doubt about that," I said, "You''ve never shown any signs that it has been effecting your work so far."


    "I''ll be alright," Nic said, trying to reassure himself as much as me. "The cold has been getting to me and I prefer to stay outside with the warm fire."


    "The fire is nice," I said, looking back at Nic. "Will you be alright in the tent?"


    "I''ll be alright," Nic tried to reassure me again.


    "I have an inflatable mattress," I offered, "Will that help?"


    "I didn''t want special treatment, Sir." Nic reminded me.


    "That''s not what this is," I countered, "I have this on hand to offer help to anyone at the camp who might need it. So nothing special here, alright?"


    "Alright," Nic said, letting out a sigh. "Could you help me set it up?"


    "Of course!" I replied, "It can be tricky. Let''s go!"

 46. Bill

    I considered going out to get the food myself, but decided at the last minute to send Nate out for it instead. I placed the order with my favorite place and it was waiting for my deputy when he went out to get it. It took Nate about twenty-five minutes to get there and back with our food, which was still nice and hot when it returned. I took the extra meal ordered and walked it back to the cell that was in plain view of the desks at the front of the lobby. I walked over to the cell where Jimbo was residing for the time being for the crimes that he committed at the campsite.


    "Here you go, Jim." I said, walking up to his cell. "Same thing I''m having tonight."


    Jimbo hopped out of his cot and walked up to the cell door to accept his meal. He hadn''t eaten since lunch, so his stomach was seriously growling by the time I showed up with his last meal of the day.


    "What did you order, Sheriff?" Jimbo asked, curious to see what he was getting.


    "A grilled chicken sandwich," I replied, "With a side of Caesar salad. You can thank the wife for the healthier eating lately. Usually I order a garden salad with ranch, but I thought I''d get a Caesar to make it a little more tolerable for the both of us."


    "I appreciate that," Jimbo said, as he didn''t seem to mind. "I love Caesar salad, so thank you."


    "Least I can do," I said, sitting down to eat my grub. "I hate to lock you up for merely defending yourself, but I didn''t write the law I just enforce it."


    "You could have given me a summons," Jimbo countered, "I would have shown up to court to fight the ridiculous charge."


    "I''m sure you would have," I replied, "But we don''t do summons around here. I prefer to arrest people after the crime rather than wait for later."


    "Good policy I guess," Jimbo admitted, "I can see where that would be ideal."


    "Don''t take it personally, son." I said, eating the same healthy food as my prisoner. I was tempted to get the same burgers and fries that the deputy was wolfing down, but wanted to shield himself in case the wife came barging in to check up on my diet. She didn''t do it too often but based on the tone I got from her earlier I wasn''t taking any chances.


    "The food is good," Jimbo called out, "Thank you."


    "I''m not an unreasonable man," I said back to him, "Despite how this looks."


    "I have no doubt Mr. Parsons is waking up lawyers as I speak," Jimbo said, "I didn''t mean to put him into this position, but I literally had no choice. That cat wanted to take a bit out of me, and I would have been short a leg and in the hospital, bleeding out. It was me or her, literally."


    "I get it, I really do," I said, as I believed the man. he didn''t seem like the kind of guy who would waste ammo just to shoot a damn cat.


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    Things got awfully quiet from that point as we both just concentrated on our food and ate without having bring up anymore small talk. Yet that silence was soon shattered when my old lady came into the shop, probably to check to see what I was eating to make sure it wasn''t too greasy and what not. Thankfully I hadn''t tried to cheat my diet and was bullet proof tonight as I greeted my wife with a warm smile.


    "Darling!" I called out, standing up to greet her. "What brings you here?"


    "The diner just closed up," my wife said as she walked closer. "Thought I''d check in with you before heading home for the night."


    "Is that all?" I asked, aware that she liked to check up on me too.


    "Well, I heard you made an arrest tonight?" she said, mildly curious. "There are rumors going around that there was a shooting."


    "There was a shooting," I confirmed, "But it was made in self defense. One of the campers at the lake was attacked by a cougar, and he put a few slugs into the beast and killed it."


    "I see," my wife said, thinking about it. "And you arrested him for defending himself?"


    "I had no choice, hun." I informed her, "Killing endangered animals around here is a crime. It''s my job to enforce those laws."


    "That doesn''t seem fair," she said, holding up a box. "I brought leftover apple pie for you and the prisoner."


    "That''s mighty nice of you, dear." I said walking over to take the box from her. "It will be greatly appreciated."


    "Hold on," my wife said as she looked over to the cell where the prisoner was sitting. "Is that him over there?"


    "It is," I said, as I noticed a sudden change in her demeanor. "Are you alright?"


    My wife took a few steps closer to the cell and peered at Jimbo like another that was looking at a child that had seriously screwed up.


    "You don''t know me?" she called out.


    "My apologies, Ma''am," Jimbo replied, "I couldn''t recognize your voice without that god awful smacking gum to go along with it."


    I turned to face Jimbo, "You two have met?"


    "Only briefly," My wife replied, "This is the asshole who lipped off at me at the diner earlier this weekend. The guy who said my toast was blacker than Denzel Washington."


    "Is that true?" I called out, as I recalled my wife telling me about that incident the day it had occurred. She told me that a young man had complained about the state of his toast and made a big deal about it in front of a lot of customers. I remember telling her that I was there when it happened that I would have tossed that prick out of the diner myself.


    "Not exactly," Jimbo replied, "I said the toast was darker than Don Cheadle."


    Without warning, my wife snatch the box she had brought with her. All of a sudden the offer of pie was being rescinded. She then proceeded to storm out of the station, and disappear into her car and drive away. I stood there and looked back at the prisoner.


    "Do you know what just happened?" I asked Jimbo.


    "Yeah," Jimbo said, sighing. "I''m guessing we just missed out on some great pie."


    "Best in the state," I informed him, "The kind that is so good that it brings a tear to a grown man''s eye."


    "Can this night get any worse?" Jimbo asked.


    "Yes, it can." I said, almost laughing. "The diner supplies us with breakfast everyday for all staff and prisoners. Do you know what that means?"


    "What?" Jimbo asked, curious to know where this was going.


    "It means you''re getting two pieces of burnt with your breakfast tomorrow," I informed him, as I walked back to my desk.


    "Lovely," Jimbo said, sighing again.


    "I suggest you keep your critiques to yourself this time," I continued, "Karma is already pissed at you, so don''t push your luck."


    "Yes, Sir." Jimbo said, agreeing with me.


    Things got quiet again and the prisoner soon went to sleep. I resumed my paperwork and couldn''t help but softly chuckle at the dumb luck of the situation. Of all people to be arrested for shooting the cougar it was the same punk that lipped off at my wife at her diner. Karma was truly working overtime today, so right then and there I decided to proceed with extreme caution. Because like my wife, that bitch was on the warpath.

 47. Mrs. Parsons

    Things had settled down after Jim was taken away by the sheriff. I thought the most surprising part was when Angie and Rachel decided to share a tent rather than sleep alone. There are just some people who can''t stand being alone at night, and it looked like these two young ladies were a few of them. David was already settling into bed for the night when I returned to the camper and I could tell by his demeanor that he wasn''t impressed with how badly things were going all weekend. Nothing was going as he had planned, and it was up to me to try to sooth his badly bruised ego.


    "To be fair, David," I called out for him as I was changing for bed, "This is the worst employee retreat weekend we''ve ever had."


    "It''s not?" David replied without looking at her. "I don''t remember any endangered animals having a few caps popped into their ass."


    "True," I said, trying not to argue. "But I think the bee sting was a lot more dire. She barely made it out of that alive."


    "True," My husband replied, "If the other camp hadn''t gave us their epi-pen, it could have turned out a lot worse for us."


    "Then there''s the canoe incident," I reminded him, "We nearly lost someone that day too. The only reason no one was hurt this time out was because one of the spouses was packing heat."


    "True," David said, as his tone was softening up. "And it was self defense, so I don''t think the lawyers will have any trouble taking care of it."


    "Don''t fret about it, hun." I continued, "I bet Bill is taking good care of Jim, and I''m confident whatever cot he''s sleeping in is a lot softer than anything out there in those tents too."


    "Probably right about that," David said as he finally rolled over. "I''m sorry, dear. This weekend has been a total clusterfuck. What do you think we should do?"


    "Well, before something else goes wrong, we should leave camp at first light," I suggested, "And we shouldn''t hike back without Jim either, so call us a car and we''ll drive back to the house. After you drop us off, you should head to the station and check up on Jim."


    "Alright," David conceded, "We''ll drive up back to the house in the morning. Angie will probably be happy to see Josh again. I hope he''s doing alright on his own too."


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    "He''s a writer, David." I reminded him, "Odds are he''s probably enjoying the solitude and is writing another bestseller as we speak."


    "Good point," David said, with a small chuckle. "The rich just keep getting richer."


    "What was that?" I asked him.


    "I''ll tell you tomorrow," David said, rolling back over. "Let''s get some sleep."


    Without saying anything else, I laid down beside my husband and we both quickly nodded off to sleep and the morning came to us a lot faster than we wanted it to. When I woke up, David was already gone as it usually was between us. I enjoyed sleeping in, but my husband had always been an early riser. As I was getting dressed, I could smell the coffee that was brewing and I was looking forward to having a mug. As I departed the trailer, almost everyone was already awake and packing things up to go. I would have preferred to have someone else take care of it for us, but they appeared to be doing it to pass the time waiting for me to wake up.


    "What time is it?" I asked.


    "Almost seven-thirty," Angie answered, passing me a cup of coffee.


    "Thank you," I said before taking a sip. "When are we being picked up?"


    "The van is already on its way," David answered, "We were just about to wake you up. We were waiting on the coffee to use as a shield."


    "Smart move," I said, taking another sip, which was just perfect. "I''m glad the van''s on its way, I want to get away from this camp as quickly as possible and get back to the cabin."


    I stood there and watched everyone else pack up the tents and clear the space away until the fan finally rolled up to pick us up. After all the events of the previous night, there as no way I wanted to hike back to the cabin. I was just eager to get back to the house and let David go to the station to take care of Jim. It took the van only fifteen minutes to drive us back to the cabin, but when we arrived I noticed something different. There was an extra car that wasn''t there the previous day.


    "Whose car is that David?" I asked him.


    "I have no idea," David replied, "Maybe it''s one of the lawyers to help Jim."


    "Seems fair," I said, as the van pulled up and came to a stop.


    I ignored the car as I just wanted to get back into the house, and while I was hoping it was a lawyer, what was waiting inside was the last thing I expected to see. There was a blond haired woman standing in the middle of the living room, wearing only a dress shirt that thankfully went down to her knees and covered everything up. When the woman noticed everyone arriving, her eyes went wide and she seemed startled.


    "Oh shit," She softly said, as if we had caught her doing something.


    It was at this point where Joshua came strolling out of the kitchen, wearing only a bath towel around his waist and was drying his hair with another smaller towel.


    "Meg, you''ve got to try this shower..." Josh said but then stopped when he realized the room was full of people. "Oh, hey! Welcome back!"

 48. Joshua

    After having some coffee and left over sushi for breakfast, I immediately went upstairs to take a shower. I had considering inviting Meghan to shower with me, but thankfully good judgement got the best of me. I used up a lot of hot water and had a nice scalding shower. After washing up and feeling like a million bucks, I went downstairs and into the kitchen wearing only a big towel around my waist and a smaller towel wrapped around my head like a silly turban.


    "Meg, you''ve got to try this shower..." I called out as I emerged from the kitchen behind her.     My intent was to surprise Meghan in the kitchen and maybe provoke some more funny business, but there was an even bigger surprise waiting for me in the living room as I emerged from the kitchen. Mr. Parsons, his wife, Nicholas, Rachel and my Angie were all in the main room looking at me with weird and even shocked faces. I had a moment very similar to a deer getting caught in the headlights, but I shook out of it and decided to just be friendly.


    "Oh, hey!" I called out, smiling at them all. "Welcome back!"


    "Josh," Mr. Parsons said, "Glad to hear you like my shower."


    "Forget that, David." Mrs. Parsons said, "Who the hell is the blonde and what is she doing here half naked in my home?"


    "That''s a good question," Angie then called out, with her arms aggressively folded.


    "Oh," Meghan started, "I... Umm..."


    "She''s with me," I blurted out, "This is Rosemary Jones and she was sent out here to do business for my agent. It was running a little late when she got here and it was too dark for her to head back out, so I insisted she stay the night. I even offered her my shirt because she hadn''t packed to stay the night. I was just trying to be hospitable."


    "Is that so?" Mrs. Parsons asked, somewhat doubtful. "What business is she here for?"


    "She came to deliver my latest offer," I quickly answered, using a shred of truth to sell my lie. "Bidding for the new book is getting out of hand and for some reason my agent couldn''t contact me out here. So, he sent this young lady to deliver the latest offer, which I believe I am going to accept."


    "That''s very interesting," Mr. Parsons said, as he seemed to be buying what I was selling. "I take it the offer you were made was quite impressive?"


    "Very impressive," I confirmed. "But most of the details I have to keep hush, hush. You know that sort of deal. I''m going to my room to change, I''ll be right back."


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    I was tempted to retreat back to the kitchen and use those stairs to get back to my room, but I was so close to the main staircase it took those and bolted right up to my bedroom. I tried to close the door behind me, but Angie has followed me up the stairs and came into the bedroom with me. She closed the door behind me and still looked as fierce as she did earlier in the living room.


    "That was a very impressive load of bullshit you dumped there, Josh." she started, "Care to tell me the truth now?"


    "The truth is overrated," I slyly replied.


    "Who is she really?" Angie asked, still angered.


    "She''s a mistress." I honestly replied, as I just ripped off the band-aid.


    "Why would you invite your mistress up here?" Angie said, "Why do you even have one?"


    "Hey, she''s not my mistress," I replied, "That young tart is your boss'' mistress."


    "Hold on," Angie said, as she couldn''t believe what she just heard. "What did you say?"


    "What I''m saying is we now have the upper hand," I said as I walked closer to her, "I covered for your boss and said she was with me to help you. We can totally hold this over his head and that means the new promotion is as good as yours."


    "That''s why you said that?" Angie said, slightly shocked. "You plan to blackmail him?"


    "Of course not," I said, repulsed by the idea. "I''m simply going to hint that he owes me, and I hope he''ll get enough of the hint to make the right decision. His wife already knows that girl is someone''s mistress... might as well let her think she''s mine. But if we want to sell this, you need to be alright with it."


    "I am not alright with it!" Angie said, sounding very upset.


    "Honey, that whole thing you saw," I said with a calm voice, "It was set up on purpose. I wanted you all to see her in my shirt, and me wrapped in a towel getting caught red handed. It all takes the head off of your boss. Anything less, and she totally would have suspected the truth. I have to pretend she''s my side chick, or your boss is toast."


    "So, what you''re saying is this was all an act?" Angie asked.


    "Yes!" I said, reaching out to give her a hug. "I slept on the couch downstairs."


    I could feel Angie''s lung release as she let out a huge sigh, and it let me know that she was believing my total and utter bullshit. Truth was I took advantage of the young girl and spent the better part of the night shagging her rotten. We made out until the wee hours of the night, but Angie didn''t need to know that. After all, it''s all an act to save her boss from landing in the dog house... and we were going to use that to land Angie that sweet promotion.


    "And the part about the offer is partly true," I continued, "We have ten million reasons to be very happy this morning."


    "Shit!" Angie said, as that was the first time she was hearing that figure. "Wow!"


    "I know, right?" I said, kissing her brow. "For now we need to focus. So if they ask, we are in an open relationship and I''m polysexual."


    "What?" Angie said, as she thought about it for a moment. "So, you''re serious. You''re going to take the bullet for my boss."


    "I can handle it," I reassured her, "As a result, your boss will owe us, big time. I can assure you there is only one thing that will buy my silence, and it''s not money. I already have too much of that as you just found out."


    "Alright," Angie said as she smiled for the first time since we started talking. "I''m in."

 49. Jimbo

    While my sleep was a little restless that night, I was pretty confident that the cot I was laying in was far more comfortable than the ground that Mr. Parsons had expected everyone else to sleep in while he and the wife slept in that comfy looking camper. The food was pretty good last night, but I wasn''t looking forward to breakfast that morning, as it was coming from that diner where I had eaten with Rachel only a few days ago, and my words were likely going to come back and bite me in the arse. I didn''t think I was that rude, but I might as well have horns and a tail right if we''re going to base the Sheriff''s opinion about me based on how thick his wife probably told him the story to him later that day. The Sheriff was uncharacteristically quiet after his wife had left, and rather than try to explain myself I chose to stick with my right to remain silent for the rest of the night. I also knew Mr. Parsons was likely going to send a lawyer down here to quickly get me the hell out of here, so no point saying anything that could be used against me in a court of law. I just stayed in my cot and kept my damn mouth shut. The only Intel this soldier was prepared to share was just my name, rank, and serial number.


    The Sheriff, or Bill as he preferred to be called, was sitting at his desk and doing a lot of paper work and making phone calls. He was a very busy man for a guy who worked in what looked like a very small town. Bill was a hard worker and he seemed like the kind of guy who would be more frustrated if he had free time on his hands. The kind of fellow to do other people''s work just to avoid having idle hands. It wasn''t until breakfast arrived that Bill actually said something to me as he came over to personally deliver it.


    "Here you go, soldier." Bill said, handing the meal through a gap in the bars. "I apologize in advance if the toast looks like any African actors."


    "Thank you, Sheriff." I said, taking the food and opening it up. To my surprise, the toast wasn''t burnt at all. It looks like someone was more interested in making good food rather than trying to make a point. Chalk one up for someone trying to be more professional than petty.


    Things were quiet for about another hour. I finished my breakfast rather quickly and they laid back down on my cot and just waited for the cavalry to eventually make an appearance. When it did happen, it was hard not to notice. The dude strolled into the station, dressed rather casually. He was wearing a dress shirt and dress pants, but the sleeves on his dress shirt were rolled up. A part of me was under the impression this lawyer was working at the office on a big case and had to drop what he was doing a drive out to butt fuck nowhere to deal with this garbage. The man was screaming or anything, but I could tell by the waving of is hands that threats were being made and a decent amount of comment sense was being applied to what was an unnecessary arrest of one of his client''s guests. After several minutes talking to this person, Bill strolled over to my cell and opened the door.


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    "Come on out, young man." Bill said, gesturing I come out and join them.


    I grabbed my stuff and even picked up the garbage from breakfast and tossed it into the trashcan on my way into the room where the lawyer was waiting for me. Once I was out there I could tell the attorney didn''t want to be there anymore than I did, but I was happy to see him none the less. He reached out and shook my hand.


    "Colby Jones," the man said, "I''m here on behalf of Mr. David Parsons who notified me of the situation rather quickly."


    "Thanks," I replied, "So, what''s going on now?"


    "I spoke to the county D.A. earlier this morning," Jones answered, "And he assured me that there would be no pursuit of the charges if the shooting was done in self defense. Mr. Parsons insisted that it was, but I we need to hear it from you since you were the shooter."


    "Yeah, totally in self defense," I insisted, "I wasn''t looking for trouble. I just wanted to take a piss when that thing started walking up to me."


    "Was that when you shot it?" the lawyer asked.


    "No," I answered, "My first discharge was actually a warning shot. I was hoping the sound might be enough to scare it off. Turns out it was more hungry than scared because that''s when the bastard charged at me. Since I really didn''t want to be dinner, I fired several times and added some iron to that kitty''s diet."


    "Alright, that sounds good to me," The lawyer said turning back to the Sheriff, "Are you satisfied with that explanation, sheriff?"


    "Yeah, I am." Bill said, "He doesn''t seem like the kind that would run around and shoot things for sport. The man is also former military so I reckon he''s got more respect for his sidearm and wouldn''t use it unless it was absolutely necessary."


    The lawyer then handed over a letter to the Sheriff and waited for him to read the contents.


    "Alright, this is good enough for me," Bill said, as he turned to face me. "You''re free to go, toast boy. Have a nice day."


    "Toast boy?" the lawyer repeated, looking rather confused.


    "It''s an inside joke," I replied, even grinning at him. "It''s alright."


    "Okay," the lawyer said, "Sorry for your trouble Sheriff, but we''ll be going now."


    "No offense, Sheriff," I said as I shook Bill''s hand, "But I hope I never see you again."


    "Ditto," Bill said, with a soft chuckle of his own. "Take care."


    The lawyer held the door open for me as I walked out of the station, back into the world a free man. Not that there was ever any doubt to begin with, which was the entire reason I never panicked at all during my brief stay. There was a sweet Jaguar in the parking space when we got out, which was rather ironic since I was here for shooting a similar cat in the first place.


    "Get in," Jones barked, "I''m going to drive you back to David''s place."


    "Will do," I said, walking over to the passenger side. "Sorry about dragging you out here in the middle of the weekend."


    "I appreciate that," Jones said, standing outside his door, "But shit happens, and I''m still billing his ass for a few extra hours for it anyway."


    "I''ll be sure to tell him you fought valiantly and for a long time," I added.


    "No need, but appreciated," Jones said opening the door, "Let''s get going."

 50. Mr. Parsons

    I had called Colby Jones before we left the campsite, and while I expected him to be asleep and grumpy as hell he was actually awake and already working on something. Turns out he was prepping a big case that was starting soon, which meant my interruption of that work to get Jimbo out of lockup was going to cost me dearly. Yet it had to be done, as I didn''t want one of my guests spending the rest of the weekend behind bars for something that was clearly self defense. After the whole debacle with Josh and Meagan, I was really hoping for any good news to lighten the mood. That call came while everyone was making something in the kitchen for breakfast, so I excused myself and went out to the back patio.


    "David," Colby started, "I got your fellow out of jail. Bill took good care of him."


    "Good to hear," I replied, "I''ll make sure you''re well compensated for your efforts."


    "Oh, I intend to be," Colby replied, almost laughing. "You''re going to get a bigger bill than usual for this one, David."


    "Understood," I said, taking a deep breath. "Thanks for the help anyway."


    "Happy to help," Colby said, as I could hear his smile, "But I need to work on Monday''s case, so after I drop Jim off ask your guests to behave for the rest of the damn weekend."


    "Will do," I said, "See you soon."


    "We''ll be there in a few minutes," Colby confirmed.


    As I disconnected the line, Meghan just happened to emerge from the kitchen and we locked eyes. I was tempted to yell at here and demand what the hell she was doing here but the last thing I wanted to do was give my wife the impression that I knew here well. Josh was covering for me for a reason and I needed to go along with it.


    "It''s nice this morning," I started, just sticking to idle small talk.


    "I''m sorry," Meghan whispered, "I thought there would be no one here. At worst I thought it would just be you."


    "Wrong weekend," I reminded her, "You need to pass it by me whenever you want to visit."


    "You''re not angry?" She asked me.


    "Oh, I''m pretty angry," I whispered back to her, "But I can''t show any emotion in front of the wife."


    "Fair enough," Meghan agreed, "She seems very nice."


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    "How long do you intend to stay here?" I asked her, hoping to get her out asap.


    "I''m not sure," Meghan answered, almost teasing me. "Maybe tomorrow I''ll hitch a ride back to the city."


    "I''d pay if you''d find a way back today," I suggested.


    "Not a good idea," Meghan reminded me, "Paying for anything for me."


    "What is this bullshit about Josh?" I then asked her.


    "Just go with it," Meghan insisted, "We''re both covering your ass."


    "And what''s Josh''s motive to cover me?" I asked her.


    "I''m sure he''ll let you know his terms," Meghan replied, "I''m sure it''s going to have something to do with the promotion his girlfriend wants."


    "Great," I said, as I was finally cluing in. "He''s going to blackmail me with it."


    "I prefer to call it mild persuasion," Meghan corrected, "but you can call it whatever you like."


    "You and Josh appeared to be getting along well," I reminded her, "What was that about?"


    "I''m a fan of his work," Meghan said, acting innocent. "Jealous he''s getting my attention."


    "Not at the moment," I answered, but it was clearly a lie. "Try to mind his girlfriend too."


    As if almost on queue when I needed them most a car started to pull up the drive. It was Cody driving Jimbo back from the station, and I didn''t hesitate to use it to end this awkward conversation with the young lady.


    "That''s my lawyer," I informed her, gesturing to the car arriving, "Excuse me."


    Meghan stayed on the porch and watched as I descended down the back stairs and walked into the driveway to greet the new car that arrived. Jimbo was the first to get out and he appeared to be happy to see me.


    "Hey bossman," Jimbo said, shaking my hand. "Thanks for sending in the cavalry."


    "Was the least I could do," I said, smiling back. "Didn''t seem right so I moved mountains to make it right."


    "Thanks anyway," Jimbo said, gesturing to the house, "I''m going to make sure Rachel is okay."


    "Go for it," I said, stepping aside. "I''ll talk to you later."


    As Jimbo walked away, my lawyer had already stepped out of his side of the car and walked over to speak with me.


    "David," Colby said, also shaking my hand. "Nice to see you''re doing well."


    "Thanks for your help, but I might need more." I said, as I gestured him to look behind me.


    Colby took a moment to peek over my shoulder and realized I was referring to the young lady that was still standing on the back deck.


    "David," Colby started, "Is that who I think it is?"


    "It is," I replied, glad to see he was able to take the hint.


    "What the hell is she doing here?" Colby asked, "Does your wife know about her?"


    "She''s met her, but not about us," I explained, "She got her weekends mixed up and it''s going to be a disaster if she stays any longer."


    "I have a feeling you''d like me to do something about this," Colby assumed, "Am I right?"


    "It you can take care of this," I started, "Then you can charge me double for today''s work."


    A small grin slowly appeared on my lawyer''s face, something that I rarely saw.


    "Alright, David," He said, padding my shoulder like a good friend, "I got this."

 51. Colby

    On most Saturday nights I would be either at the club in sleeping in my bed, but this time the answer was neither. I was actually at the office, working on my opening for a case that started on Monday, clocking overtime like a madman. I was slowly sipping scotch and eating cold pizza while working on it when I got the call from David Parsons. He sounded a little panicked but it was kind of hard to tell as the signal was weak. He told me about the situation, and that his friend was arrested and I needed to come down there asap to get him out of jail for shooting an animal in self defense. I took a deep breath and said I would be on my way. After having a few cups of coffee while getting dressed to leave, I managed to get sober enough to drive and made good time to get to this sheriff''s station, but I stopped at every coffee shop on the way down to help get me even more sober. When I arrived to the station, all it took was a little sweet talk a few fibs to get the man out of his cell. These hicks were too gullible and Jim was a free man in no time at all. I could tell that despite the brisk air, Jim was happy to be a free man again.


    "Get in," I called out to Jim, "I''m going to drive you back to David''s place."


    "Will do," Jim replied, as he appeared happy not to be walking, "Sorry about dragging you out here in the middle of the weekend."


    "I appreciate that," I said, as he appeared to mean it, "But shit happens, and I''m still billing his ass for a few extra hours for it anyway."


    "I''ll be sure to tell him you fought valiantly and for a long time," Jim added.


    "No need, but appreciated," I replied, "Let''s get going."


    Once back inside the Jag, I fired it up and got us back on the road as it would only take a few minutes to get him back to David''s cabin.


    "I hope this didn''t ruin your weekend," Jim said, trying to sound sympathetic.


    "My weekend was already done," I replied, not really that upset. "I was lacking sleep but I substituted it with caffeine on my way up."


    "I noticed the cups in the back," Jim said, "You must have gotten sloshed last night."


    "Only a little bit," I said, lying again. "But let''s keep that between us."


    "I can''t believe you woke up the local DA," Jim said, sounding impressed.


    "I didn''t," I said, revealing the truth, "But this early in the morning people will believe anything just to get assholes like me to shut up."


    "Damn, you are good," Jim said, as he couldn''t believe it.


    "That why I get the big bucks," I said, as I cut the corner, "But after talk, I bet you that fat fuck won''t even file the paper work and the DA will never even know the incident occurred. If you hear back from someone, I''ll still take care of it but forgive me if I don''t hold my breath."


    "Sounds alright to me," Jim concurred, "I doubt we''ll hear back from them either. Well done."


    "Keep quite for a moment, Jim." I said as I had the car dial a number for me. Moments later David Parsons answered his phone.


    "David," I started once the line went live, "I got your fellow out of jail. Bill took good care of him."


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    "Good to hear," David replied, "I''ll make sure you''re well compensated for your efforts."


    "Oh, I intend to be," I replied, almost laughing. "You''re going to get a bigger bill than usual for this one, David."


    "Understood," David agreed, "Thanks for the help anyway."


    "Happy to help," I said, as I could hear his smile, "But I need to work on Monday''s case, so after I drop Jim off ask your guests to behave for the rest of the damn weekend."


    "Will do," I said, "See you soon."


    "We''ll be there in a few minutes," Colby confirmed.


    After I disconnected the line, I looked back at Jim.


    "What?" I asked him.


    "You two sound rather close." Jim observed.


    "He''s been my client for a very long time," I explained, "And his company also has very deep pockets so the billing is going to make the effort all worth it."


    "Fair enough," Jim said, as he understood.


    "Here we go," I said as the cabin was becoming visible. "Man, there''s a whole party up there."


    "You have no idea," Jim said, laughing a little bit.


    "Well, stay out of trouble from here on." I reminded him.


    "I will be, scout''s honor!" Jim said, making a half-assed salute.


    As I pulled the car into the lot, I could see David coming down the stairs to greet us. Jim quickly got out of the car and was greeted by David. I took my time getting out and let the two men have a moment to speak and the moment Jim left to go back tot he cabin, I stepped out of the Jag to have a talk with David.


    "David," I said, walking over to shake his hand. "Nice to see you''re doing well."


    "Thanks for your help, but I might need more." David replied, as he gestured for me to look behind him.


    I took a moment to peek over his shoulder and realized I was referring to the young lady that was still standing on the back deck. If I didn''t know better, that sure looked like David''s young mistress from the city.


    "David," I started, "Is that who I think it is?"


    "It is," David confirmed, glad to see I was able to figure it out.


    "What the hell is she doing here?" I asked, "Does your wife know about her?"


    "She''s met her, but doesn''t know about us," David explained, "She got her weekends mixed up and it''s going to be a disaster if she stays any longer."


    "I have a feeling you''d like me to do something about this," I asked David, "Am I right?"


    "It you can take care of this," David added, "You can charge me double for today''s work."


    A small grin slowly crept onto my face, and I think David was even a little creeped out.


    "Alright, David," I replied, padding his shoulder like a good friend, "I got this."


    I quickly scooted up to the cabin and up the stairs to the back patio where Megan was still residing as she was watching me speak with David.


    "Meagan," I said, trying to give her a warm smile, "I''m a little surprised to see you here!"


    "Ditto," Meagan replied, "What are you doing here?"


    "I bailed his friend outta jail," I answered, "Something about shooting endangered wildlife."


    "Seriously?" Meagan asked, as she could hardly believe it.


    "What about you?" I asked her, "What are you doing here when the wife and guests are here?"


    "This is technically my weekend," Meagan replied, "I guess he changed plans without telling me."


    "That''s a royal fuck up," I admitted, "But something tells me his wife had something to do with this more than David did. So, let''s get you out of here now. I''m going back tot he city right now and can give you a lift back."


    "And what if I don''t want to go?" Meagan asked.


    "I''m not asking," I said, my tone getting a little more annoyed. "Unless you''d like me to inform David who bailed you out two weeks ago after your little spat at Club Zee."


    Megan didn''t respond, and was biting her lip as she had no answer to that.


    "Yeah, that''s what I thought," I said, aware that the matter was settled, "Say your goodbyes and get your shit. You''re coming with me."


    "What about my car?" She asked.


    "Forget it," I answered, "I''ll have it towed. We''ll say there''s engine issues and that''s why you couldn''t return and that I offered to take you back."


    "You''re not that trusting, are you?" Meagan inquired.


    "Not one bit," I replied, "I am going to personally make sure you get your cute ass back to the city. So pretty please with sugar on top... get your shit and get in the Jag."


    "Alright," Megan said, "I''ll be right back."


    "Quickly," I reminded her.


    I watched as Meagan when back inside to get her things, and I turned to David and gave him a wink to let him know all was well. The sooner I got that brat out of here, the less likely it would all blow up in David''s face. I took a deep breath, and patiently waited for Meagan to get her shit and act together so I could get her the hell out of dodge.

 52. Meagan

    While I was tempted to stay and see how things played out, Colby was correct as usual. Staying here with the wife and the guests would put David into a very difficult position and that was the last thing I wanted to do. I care about David enough that I started to gather my things to leave. I used the cover story that Colby said I should use, saying the car didn''t start and that I would be getting a ride with the lawyer back into town. Everyone seemed to buy it, expect for the one guest who knew better, the writer. Josh walked up to me when the coast was clear and slipped something into my hand. It was his business card.


    "My cell number is on the back," Josh whispered into my ear, "Call me next week and we''ll do lunch. Sound good?"


    "That does, thank you," I replied, slipping the card into my pocket for safe keeping.


    With no one looking, I leaned in and gave Josh a small peck on the cheek and then moved on to collect my things. It only too a few moments, and I started to descend the stairs to get the hell out of there. My exit however, was intercepted by Mrs. Parsons who pretty much blocked my exit and appeared to be doing it on purpose.


    "Young lady," Mrs. Parsons stared, "What has you leaving in such a rush?"


    "Oh, I was never meant to be here that long," I apologized, hoping a little humility might deflect any suspicion. "I meant to leave yesterday after I delivered the offer, but my car wouldn''t start. The lawyer is heading back to town right now, and was nice enough to offer me a ride back. I''ll have a two truck come and take my car later in the week. I''m very sorry for the inconvenience."


    "Oh, that''s why you''re still here?" Mrs. Parsons said, "And what is with the sushi platters?"


    Damn it, she was cornering me with the food I had brought to eat with her husband. I had to do some careful bullshitting if I was going to talk my way out of this one.


    "I''m not a big fan of it myself," I started to explain, "But Mr. Packard is a big fan of it, and his agent made the order and had me pick it up to deliver with his offer."


    "Oh, I see," Mrs. Parsons said, as she thought about it, "Do you normally do that, bring food out with official business."


    "Not usually," I conceded, "But Mr. Packard''s agent was obviously trying to kiss up to his biggest client. He was also probably afraid he might not like something in the offer and was using this to soften the blow. I''m not exactly sure which it is but his agent seems to work like that."


    "That''s very interesting," Mrs. Parson said, as she was clearly analyzing every statement I made and was clearly in interrogation mode.


    As if he had a sixth sense and could feel that I was in need of assistance, Colby came into the kitchen out of no where and pointed over to me and called out.


    "Hey!" Colby called out, "We need to get moving. Time is money!"


    "Sorry about that," Mrs. Parsons said, turning to face the attorney. "Do the two of you know one another?"


    "Nope," Colby said, lying right to the hostess'' face. "I''m just in the middle of a big case that actually starts tomorrow. I need to get back to the city asap so that I can keep working on the opening I was drafting when your husband called to get help with his cat killer."


    "That is awfully nice of you to offer her a ride," Mrs. Parsons added, still suspicious.


    "Well, you''re already paying me a lot to be here," Colby reminded her, "So, since I''m heading back in there''s no need to add an expensive Uber to your costs. You, let''s get going!"


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    Mrs. Parsons turned to face me, and I could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to ask more questions.


    "Of course," Mrs. Parsons answered, "Off you go. I don''t want to keep you from your work."


    "Thank you kindly, Ma''am," Colby said as watched me pass by her in the staircase. "We''ll get her out of your hair and allow you to enjoy the rest of your weekend."


    "Thank you for your help, Mr. Jones," Mrs. Parsons said, "For helping with our cat killer."


    "That''s what I get paid the big bucks for," Colby said, trying not to be boastful, "I was happy to help but I do really need to get going."


    "Drive safely," Mrs. Parsons said, as she watched the two of us leave the kitchen.


    "What the hell was that?" Colby asked, "That is the last person David wanted you talk to!"


    "She cornered me on the staircase," I replied, "It was more of an ambush than an actual attack. Thanks for getting me out of there."


    "Get in the car," Colby ordered, "We''re going to get you as far away from this damn cabin as we can."


    As we were walking back to the car, which was a very nice looking Jag, I noticed that David Parsons took his lawyer aside for a moment and whispered something to him.


    "It''s all good, David," Colby said, reassuring him, "We are outta here. See you soon."


    "Thank you," Mr. Parsons said.


    Once Colby Jones was back in the driver''s side of his Jaguar, he didn''t even hesitate to start the car up and rip right out of there like a bat out of hell. As the drove up the long driveway and took a sharp turn back onto the road, I could tell that he was steaming over what happened.


    "I swear to you it was an accident," I told him, "If I knew that anyone was there, let alone his wife, then I would have steered clear of that place."


    "He didn''t send you any messages, not even a text?" Colby asked.


    "He didn''t, I swear!" I pleaded, "Maybe he couldn''t send anything as his wife was watch too closely or something. I don''t know why this mix up occurred, but I didn''t do this on purpose."


    "Alright, alright," Colby said, as he ripped another corner to get onto the highway. "I believe you. Let''s just chalk this up as bad timing. As long as there''s no harm, I guess there''s no foul."


    "I am still sorry," I said again, "I had no idea there was anyone up there."


    "I just need you to realize that if you truly love this man," Colby carried on, "That you need to be more careful and keep your distance from the missus. If that marriage goes to hell in a hand basket, you do not want to be anywhere near the blast zone. You don''t want to be the woman that was responsible for his marriage going into the shitter. Don''t be that woman. Let someone else take the fall and get labelled with that."


    "Someone else?" I repeated, as I didn''t like the sound of that.


    "Yes, someone else," Colby said, with a sly grin on his face. "I can assure you there are more women on the side than just you, Megan. I am pretty sure there''s someone at the office whose wick he''s dipping his pen into. Hell, it might be one of the women who were there for this crazy business retreat."


    "If that were true," I responded, "It would be pretty dumb to invite her to the cabin with his wife there too."


    "Maybe," Colby said, "But it''s not as dumb as you think. That gives him deniability, and that 3D chess like thinking if you know what I mean."


    "Well, if I had to guess," I said, thinking about it, "I think he''s banging the one that''s dating the writer. She was staring at him the whole time I was there. She didn''t even seem to give a


    shit that I was there with her man, so I''m thinking they might have an open relationship."


    "How the hell would you..." Colby stopped himself as he realized it himself. "You didn''t!"


    "Oh, I did," I said, smiling back at him. "So, I don''t think you have to worry about me hounding David going forward cause I''m going to give that writer a call back the first chance I get."


    "You are a real piece of work," Colby said, almost laughing.


    "Thank you," I said, as I was quite happy with how the weekend actually turned out.


    "That wasn''t a compliment," Colby replied.


    "Never took it as one," I countered.


    "Well, at least you weren''t caught in the act," Colby said, trying to salvage something. "But that was reckless even for you."


    "What''s reckless was not warning me someone was there," I said, "Now the writer and his woman have David in a position he might not want to be in. So, it doesn''t take a rocket scientist to figure out who''s getting promoted... does it?"


    "Shit," Colby said, as the thought had never occurred to him.


    "David is a big boy," I reminded him, "He doesn''t need you for everything."


    "I guess not," Colby conceded, "But it''s nice to know you''re need every now and then."


    "I know what you mean," I said, smiling back at him. "I really do."

 53. Nicholas

    Everyone was busy getting settled back into the house, except for me. Not only did I not want to put my things away, I was so sore that I didn''t even want to go up the stairs. Part of me just wanted to crawl up onto that couch in the living room and just pass out. I had slept like shit the night before, and it wasn''t cause of the tent or the inflatable mattress, as those were alright. I would have been in pain regardless of where I was sleeping, as that''s just how I felt whenever someone like me was in what my rheumatologist would call a flare up. There was nothing I could do but just ride it out, and wait for the pain to subside. I used to knock back pills like they were going out of style, but that was a method and an addiction that I wasn''t in the mood to dive back into. So, I just learned to take it and over the years my threshold for pain has significantly increased. It got to the point where I broke my wrist, and if I had done that thirty years ago I would have been wailing as a baby. The today me just sat patiently in the waiting room for three hours to treated. I used to be afraid of needles, and now it doesn''t bother me to the point where I got an eight hour tattoo and didn''t even flinch the whole time. Yet when I have these flares, they''ve become more of a nuisance and I have gotten better at waiting them out. While sometimes I can''t hide it, to the normal people I just look grumpy rather than in pain. That works and I let it pass so that I can suffer in silence.


    Rather than keep standing, which made things more painful after a while... I slowly moved over to that catch I had been eyeing and softly parked my arse there and took a deep breath. I watched quietly as everyone else was running around and doing things while I was content to just relax and not do a damn thing. Finally, the first person who noticed where I was happened to be the wife of the big boss. Mrs. Parsons walked up to me and quickly engaged in conversation.


    "Nic," she started as she walked closer, "Are you alright?"


    "Not really," I honestly replied, "I feel like total shit, but thanks for asking."


    She appeared to be taken back, but attempted to recover from it.


    "Are you hurt?" she inquired, which was rather night.


    "Always," I replied, "But it''s something that I''ve learned to live with."


    I could tell Mrs. Parsons was a tad confused by the situation, as clearly she never spoke to her husband about it. He was likely distracted by the cougar shooting and Jimbo''s arrest and it probably slipped his mind.


    "Is there anything I can do?" she asked, doing her best to be hospitable.


    Clearly she was trying, so I felt the need to give her a task at least to give her the feeling that she was contributing to me feeling better, despite it not being possible at the moment.


    "If it''s not too much trouble," I replied, "I''d love a cup of tea."


    "I can do that," Mrs. Parsons said, excited to do anything. "Two milk and sugar?"


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    "That would be great," I answered, even though it wasn''t accurate. I didn''t care, just go away.


    As Mrs. Parsons bolted off for the kitchen to get my tea, Jimbo came down the stairs and appeared eager to speak to anyone about something.


    "Hey!" I called out, surprised to even see the man. "When did you get back?"


    "I just got here," Jimbo answered, "Rachel was excited as shit to see me and wouldn''t let go for almost five minutes."


    "I bet," I replied, eager to know more. "What the hell happened?"


    "The bossman sent a lawyer," Jimbo answered, "Dude did some fancy talk and got me the hell out of the cell. To be fair, I bet that cot was a hell of a lot softer than those air mattresses."


    "Probably," I said, as I honestly didn''t care about that. Despite being out and about, Jimbo appeared to be as nervous as a cat. "What''s going on, dude?"


    "Something odd is going on," Jimbo answered.


    "You don''t know the half of it," I said, eager to dish on something Jimbo didn''t know. "Did you see that blonde that was on the back deck?"


    "Yeah, I did," Jimbo confirmed, "Who the fuck is she?"


    "I have no damn clue, but she was here playing around with Josh when we got back," I said, enjoying the chance to gossip. That often helped me get the mind off my flares. "He claims she was a courier delivering an offer, but they looked a little too chummy if you ask me. Something was going on when we walked in."


    "Fuck me," Jimbo said, as he didn''t know. "Angie must have been pissed."


    "She looked annoyed, but seemed to take it well," I admitted, "They''re upstairs talking about it now. And the blonde is still on the deck."


    "Not anymore," Jimbo corrected me.


    "What the hell does that mean?" I asked him, as I was now in the dark about something.


    "This lawyer that just drove me back," Jimbo started, "He took that chick aside and said something to her. After that exchange, she got in his car and they just peeled off together."


    "What?" I said, as that was clearly confusing me. "If she was here to deliver something for Josh, why the hell did she leave with the lawyer?"


    "Tell me about it," Jimbo said, as he was also confused. "That makes no damn sense."


    "Not one bit," I said, thinking about it. "What about her car?"


    "Parsons is saying it wasn''t working," Jimbo added, "He''s acting rather weird too. Did you notice that when you guys got her before me?"


    "Not really," I admitted, as I couldn''t remember anything. "If he was rattled, the dude hid it well."


    "You don''t become a C.E.O. of shit if you can''t look adversity in the face and not flinch," Jimbo said, as he started to pace the room. "I''d hate to sit down a poker table with that man."


    "No shit," I said, as his poker face was clearly impeccable.


    "So, if she agreed to leave with his lawyer," Jimbo added, "They why was she really here?"


    Before either of us could answer that, Mrs. Parsons returned to the room with my cup of tea. She put it down on the table in front of me and we both shut the hell up as she did so.


    "There you go," She said with a pleasant smile, "Can I get out anything else?"


    "No, thank you," I said, "This will be fine."


    As the boss'' wife left the room, suddenly we both had the very same thought.


    "She''s his mistress." Jimbo blurted out the moment she was out of earshot.


    "Damn right she is," I concurred, "That would explain the lawyer dragging her out of here asap."


    "Do you think Josh knows?" Jimbo asked.


    "Of course he does!" I snapped back before taking a sip. "For whatever reason the dude is covering for him."


    "Sneaking fucker," Jimbo said, as he realized something else. "I need to speak with Rachel."


    Before I could say anything else, Jimbo ran up the stairs to look for his woman. I sat there and softly sipped my tea, wondering what the hell else was going to happen tonight, which was the final night of the retreat. damn, this was going to be good.