Fatal Serum Page 8

  When it came to women, I was “Mr. Slow.” I knew what I needed to do or say, but my heart and head always ran three minutes behind and the person always got away, or some other dude would step in.

  My body rose out of my wooden chair. I stood directly in front of her before my brain told my tongue what to say. “I-I was wondering if you would like to join me?” My heart started pounding like a drum. “My name is Sam Abbott.” I stuck my hand toward her belly button. I hadn’t dated in several years, or at least I didn’t have a steady girl friend, money being my main problem.

  She extended her hand and said, with such a tender voice, “Jennifer Snowden, Chicago, Illinois.” Her voice sent chills down my spine. The words came out soft, yet energetic.

  “I’m from Denver, Colorado.” I knew every set of eyes in the deli were on her every move.

  “I’ve skied in Breckenridge. I’ve been to Denver several times.” The twinkle in her eyes stirred up things.

  Me, I never skied more than twice in my life and I was known as a butt skier. It seemed easier than using skies. I knew I would lose ground in a hurry. “When was the last time you were in Colorado?” My mouth became dry after the question, hoping it was when she was a little girl. My stomach swelled.

  “It has been a few years.” I nodded. “I loved the sport, but my right knee didn’t feel the same way.” I saw a touch of agony in her brown eyes.

  My chest loosened up. “I bet you were a great skier.” Her legs were long, lean and hung from her shapely posterior. God had taken his time in creating her body. She smiled.

  “If you love something, you become good at it.” Our eyes locked and the sparks were flying around the deli, like fireworks lighting up Chicago on the Fourth of July. I put my right hand on her shoulder blade to guide her toward the order counter. I felt the warmth radiate up my arm to my head and I knew my face read: code red. She ordered a veggie wrap and a bottle of mango juice. I ordered a ham and Swiss wrap and a bottle of ice tea.

  We ate lunch and our eyes stayed locked on each other most of the time. She had a cute smile and I loved her laugh. We spent the rest of the day walking, talking and discussing the goals we thought we wanted. Our day ended up with dinner at Taupo’s famous restaurant, “Kiwi Inn”. Jennifer had fresh lake trout caught from Taupo Lake and I had a t-bone steak raised in New Zealand. The candlelight dinner, two bottles of dry Chardonnay, and the ambiance created sparks of love. An hour after we finished our meal, we were in my hotel room lying naked, wrapped in each others arms with love juices flowing.

  Over the next five days, we fell madly in love with one another. We spent most of our time in bed. Our hearts and bodies couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Chapter 24

  INSEPARABLE

  We were inseparable up until the day we left each other at the Los Angeles airport. I headed for Atlanta, Georgia to meet David Holloway. He had found some acreage south of Augusta he wanted me to look at. The acreage would be the new location for our production site.

  Jennifer headed for Chicago to go back to work and plan our wedding. We would wait until fall for the wedding, September, in Chicago, after Labor Day, if things could be worked out. We had returned to early spring in the States, having left the end of summer in New Zealand.

  Jennifer worked for a large law firm in Chicago. She had been with the firm for five years, working her tail off for a promised partnership in October. She had begun to hate the firm. Her father had warned her when she had taken the job. He had a small law practice in Oakbrook, Illinois, where Jennifer had grown up.

  The wedding would be small. A few friends and immediate family would be sent invitations. The reception would be open and would be held at Gargiano’s in Oakbrook. Jennifer would check on the availability.

  Jennifer, baptized Methodist, and I-I left the Presbyterian Church after graduating high school. I still believed, but my faith had dwindled. We were going to be married in the Snowden’s Methodist Church in Oakbrook.

  My brother, Randy, would be my best man. I had studied and worked part-time for so many years, my social friends had left the scene. At almost thirty, I had maybe one friend, Robert Hayes, a cop in Denver, the guy who had lent me the money to see Holloway. Robert Hayes and his wife would be attending the wedding. Robert wasn’t the smartest oar in the water, but he was the most honest person ever made. Robert had been working homicide for the past four years. He had the body of a Greek God. His name should have been Thor. He stood six feet five and weighed around two-hundred forty pounds. He had played defensive end in high school. Quarterbacks hated to play against him. Everyone called him “Rhino.” I called him “Little Rhino.”

  Chapter 25

  AUGUSTA—ELEVEN YEARS AGO

  I arrived in Atlanta one hour and twenty minutes late. David had two rooms set up at the downtown Atlanta Marriott. I checked in at 1:00 A.M., Atlanta time. I had two messages: one from Jennifer, telling me how much she missed me already and how much she loved me. My loins ached for her. The expression on my face must have told the night clerk that, because she gave me one of those grins.

  The other message came from David. He would meet me at 7: 00 A.M. for breakfast. We would leave Atlanta by 8:30 A.M. via his corporate jet. I glanced at my watch; it was 1:15. I hurried to the elevator, wanting to lay my head on a pillow, any pillow.

  I managed to crawl out of bed seconds after the phone rang for my wake-up call. I showered, shaved and put on my stain-free, wrinkle-free, tan slacks I had purchased at JC Penney’s about three years ago. The cuffs were frayed. The sport shirt I grabbed from my bag was white and had a wine stain on the lower front side, but wouldn’t show if I put my Sears, navy, sport jacket on. The navy jacket had a missing button off the right sleeve.

  I had informed Jennifer about how poor I was. My parents were of below average income. My father drove a bus for the Denver schools and held odd jobs in between; my mother cleaned houses to help put food on the table. With money earned from washing out the backs of delivery trucks at a local dairy five nights a week after school, I had purchased a $500.00 car, paid the insurance, kept her running and spent money on girls and clothes until going away to college. I managed to save $2000 to attend college and financed the rest with a bunch of loans.

  Jennifer’s father had put her through Northwestern, where she received her law degree. She had belonged to a sorority and had a new car to drive. Her father, however, had taught her the value of a dollar and how to put it to good use. Jennifer was extremely frugal.

  I walked into the dining area and spotted David; his eyes were glued to the Wall Street Journal. “Good morning, David.” We were on a first-name basis. David preferred it that way. The time on my trusty Timex read 6:58.

  He dropped the paper instantly and stood. Extending his hand, he said, “Good morning, Sam. How was your trip?” His eyes were much brighter than mine. My legs were weak and my eyes burned from lack of sleep from flying for some fifteen hours. I struggled with constipation; in fact, I had been plugged up for two days.

  We sat down after a few more words. George, a medium built, black waiter, with a shaven head, took our order. David had dry, whole wheat toast with honey and a large glass of orange juice. I needed to eat, even though I had no idea where the food would go. I ordered two eggs over easy with crisp bacon, whole wheat toast and a large 2% milk to chase it down. I added a plate of fruit with the hope it would break up my blockage.

  The conversation was light. We headed for his limo, which had pulled up in front of the hotel less than a minute from the time he had made a call on his cell phone. We arrived at the airport and were aboard his corporate jet right on schedule.

  We landed at Augusta airport in less than forty minutes and taxied to another limo waiting on the tarmac.

  The fresh air in Augusta made my head feel smaller. Maybe my ears had finally popped. I don’t do well in airplanes. The walk to the white limo, less than one-hundred feet at the most, fell quiet. I got in on the right side; David
on the left. The doors were opened and shut by two, gigantic, black men dressed in black suits and white shirts. Our driver, also black and bigger than me, appeared tiny compared to the two men we had left on the tarmac. David and I chatted about New Zealand and, of course, the pollution problem we faced in this world.

  We arrived at the property, which would become the new company; no name as yet. Jennifer’s and my new home would be on the same property. My eyes were skating in every direction. My mouth hung open in awe. David had already walked the property and had toured the two-hundred year old home. He had called me in New Zealand to tell me about the property. When I had told Jennifer, she became ecstatic. We were naked at the time and she began jumping around the room like a young fawn on a sunny, spring day. She had always dreamed of living in a plantation home, with a large garden and flowers everywhere.

  We met the realtor, Helen McGuire, at the property. A tall, sophisticated lady, who knew her business, with a Georgia smile and an accent no man could say no to when asked a yes/no question. She was pushing fifty, maybe sixty; colored hair, her face redone, but her hands said differently. Her breasts were not large, however, they made her look like a model in her skin-tight, lavender dress. She listed the property and wanted to sell it to David Holloway, today. Her eyes told us she was winning.

  I walked around the tall, Georgia pines and pecan trees like I owned the five-hundred acres. I took long strides and had one hand in my pants pocket. David let me look and dream for half an hour before he said, “Sam, let’s look at the house.” I told David about Jennifer and our marriage plans. He informed me he had met his wife in May and married her in June of the same year. They still didn’t have any children. I never asked why. Jennifer and I are going to fill the house with kids.

  The house was humungous compared to the tiny house I had grown up in, in Denver, on Alcott Street. The home needed some attention—windows; paint, inside and out; new appliances; curtains; the hardwood floors needed to be refinished; and, yes, it needed furniture. My God, it’ll cost a fortune to furnish the place. I frowned, only because I wanted the best for Jennifer. I hope she understands.

  Helen came up behind me, less than five feet from my heels, when she asked me a yes/no question. “Mr. Abbott, do you think Jennifer and you could make this gorgeous house a home to share your love for one another?” Thoughts of Jennifer and me running naked throughout this four thousand square foot home made my loins warm.

  The smile on my face as I turned around told Helen McGuire the answer before the word, “yes,” rolled out of my dry mouth. She smiled, turned and walked across the large room toward David. Her heals pounded the closing march the closer she got to him.

  A handshake sealed the deal. The closing would be next Thursday, a week from today. On the way to the limo, David pointed out where the plant would be. I nodded.

  On Thursday, David wrote a check for one point five million and already had an architect lined up, along with a construction company to break ground on the ten thousand square foot plant and office, the Monday following the closing. The man was like Mario Andretti on a race track. He never slowed down and always knew where the next turn would be. His pit crew was the best money could buy and David paid them well, very well. David never used the words: “but, ah, um, maybe, I think, can’t, or any four letter words.”

  My job was to help the architects design the plant and offices. David put me on the payroll at $5000 per month, plus gave me a new Honda Accord. I rented some furniture and found an apartment near downtown Atlanta, only a few minutes from the architect’s office. David’s only comment, “build it big enough so we can grow.” David wanted the plant underground and a security fence no one could enter without going through one main entrance. He saw the curve long before I did.

  In four weeks, we had the plans laid out and drawn up for the Jefferson County planning commission to approve. It didn’t take me long to figure out David had a tremendous influence on anyone who was around him or dealt with him, personally. He called twice a day requesting updates and giving input. It took them two days, with some persuasion from David’s office, to approve them. The ten thousand square foot plant would be two stories high, but secluded under four feet of concrete, rebar, a parking garage and Georgia clay.

  Chapter 26

  SEPTEMBER WEDDING

  Our wedding day had been set for the last Saturday in September. I saw Jennifer almost every weekend since we had arrived back in the states. She would fly to Atlanta on Friday night and take a red eye back Sunday night. We spent most of our time on top of or between the sheets. Each time she left, it became harder and harder for us to kiss goodbye.

  The law firm had put their grips on her. Her production had dwindled. She would tell them about the wedding and our plans one month before. Her father wanted her to tell them immediately; he could feel the pressure they were putting on her.

  September came and Robert Hayes and his wife, Sally, and my family, including my brother, Randy, a junior at The Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, were in Oakbrook, Illinois, two days before the wedding. Randy, Robert and I went out and reminisced, while Sally and Jennifer dined together. Randy became the designated driver since he wasn’t old enough to drink. Robert and I got plastered on Miller Lite and Dewar’s scotch, which Robert had started me on. I still felt the hangover the morning of the wedding, a day and a half later. I did remember to pay back Robert the money he had loaned me.

  The First Methodist Church filled with many relatives and friends of Jennifer’s and the Snowden’s. I had less than a handful attend. David and his wife couldn’t be there as they were at a meeting in Tokyo.

  Jennifer’s maid of honor, Sue Lewis, her friend since grade school, wore a lemon chiffon dress. All eyes were entrenched on her. Her smile would make any man soften. When she spoke, her voice radiated the room. Also a lawyer, she worked for a small firm in Chicago.

  Jennifer looked gorgeous in her white wedding gown. Her shoulder length, dark hair, dark brown eyes and her full red lips made my heart jump, as she walked down the aisle with her father. All eyes were glued on Jennifer, while she so gracefully strode toward the front of the church.

  The minister’s white robe covered three quarters of his plain, navy, three button suit.

  Randy and I wore rented, black tuxedos, with white, silk shirts. A stream of perspiration ran down the middle of my back when Jennifer’s father gave her hand to me. My palms were wet, my mouth dry, as we stood in front of the Reverend Carl Stokes, a middle-aged man with a dynamic voice.

  The short ceremony consisted of one song, sung by another friend of Jennifer’s, Kathy Wilcox, who sang “The First Time.” Thoughts of Jennifer and me in Taupo, New Zealand, flowed through my head like wind covering a wheat field.

  The service ended and the minister gave those final words, “You May Kiss the Bride.” We kissed passionately, like we always did. The sparks bounced around the church.

  We held the reception at St Andrew’s Country Club, where a live band, open bar and sit down dinner awaited our arrival. All the guests and relatives had arrived, except Randy, Sue, Jennifer, Jennifer’s mother and father and my mother and father and me. Pictures always take too long.

  Entering the ballroom, Robert handed me a Dewar’s on the rocks, accompanied with a slap on the back and a big hug. He kissed Jennifer on the cheek and said, “Jennifer, if ever you need anything other than money, call me.” His grin covered the whole front of his face. “Sam, here, …” His large paw gripped my shoulder. “Sam, here, is the greatest, but if he ever steps out of line, you call me.”

  “I will do that Robert, but I rather doubt he will get out of line.” Her brown eyes made my whole body melt as she looked into my eyes. I put my arm around her waist, pulled her toward me and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Jennifer and I want to have several children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. We want nothing but Abbotts running around the house.”

  “Don’t forget Rocky,�
�� Jennifer chimed in.

  “Rocky?” I looked at Jennifer. “Rocky is Jennifer’s heart and soul,” I said with a grin.

  “He has had all my heart and soul. Now he has to share with you, Sam.” Her eyes were wet.

  We danced the night away and by two a.m. we had loaded a ton of gifts from the ballroom into my parent’s rental car, a Ford Fusion, and Jennifer’s parent’s new Lexus.

  Jennifer and I headed for the Marriott downtown Chicago, where we had a suite for the evening. We were catching a ten a.m. flight to the Caymans for a week’s stay.

  Chapter 27

  FIRST CHRISTMAS

  David and his wife, Joan, had given us a $30,000 gift certificate to the finest furniture store in Georgia. Jennifer picked out everything and wrote out all the thank you notes by the second week after returning from the Caymans. She hired two painting contractors to paint the inside and outside of the house. All I said was “wow.” She was like David—she saw the turn long before it became visible.

  She had the four bathrooms re-plumbed and new fixtures and cabinets installed. New cherry cabinets and appliances were put in the kitchen. Jennifer organized everything, while I worked twelve hours a day, six days a week, getting things lined up for the new manufacturing plant and organizing and hiring a staff. David stressed the hiring of top-notch security people would be far more important than top-notch people for the manufacturing. Great security people don’t have to be trained, but manufacturing people do. I never realized our product would require that much security. I never saw around the curve.

  Christmas came and my parents and Jennifer’s parents, along with my brother, came to our place for the holiday season. Jennifer had the house all decorated. All the molding had been refinished. I found it simply amazing. I took off one day, Christmas. The rest of the time I spent planning, structuring and organizing my staff. Christmas Eve day, 4:40 in the afternoon, is when I interviewed and hired Virginia, my secretary.