From NovelPro critiques: "Intense, sexy & unpredictable."

Dream of The Blue Monkey

by Doug Osborne

Copyright © 2007, Doug Osborne
All Rights Reserved

(In revision)

Chapter 1: Lauchenauer Building, Syracuse NY

Melinda Dupree was officially an orphan.

She was lots of other things. Engineer. Construction manager. Short. Red head. Tom boy. She'd felt like an orphan since her mother died. With her father's death she was a double orphan at age thirty-one. Not that Joe Dupree had been much of a father.

The TV psychologists would say he had emotionally abandoned her. She said he was a cold son of a bitch, and with the mess the business was in her opinion hadn't improved a bit.

He'd sold all the equipment and closed all the contracts before she came back from the mall job in Michigan. Because he was sick, he said. But every cent from the company's accounts went into a Telecommunications Center project. Now Joe was dead, she owned the company, and the customer wanted to fire her because no work was getting done on the job.

So now she was going to the most important business meeting of her life.She'd run jobs as Joe Dupree's site superintendent for the last three years, but now old Joe was food for worms and the business was hers and hers alone. And she felt very alone at this moment.

The reflection in the streaked stainless steel elevator door didn't even look like her. Someone dressed in a business suit with neatly brushed hair. Too perfect for Mel Dupree, but necessary to set the tone of her relationship with Crosby and Brown Architects and Engineers.

The elevator door opened and blasted her with the moldy cardboard stench of dirty air filters. Lost in thought she hadn't noticed the empty and neglected condition of the building. Debris and dirt gathered in the corner of the elevator. No one had made an effort to clean the stainless steel in a long time. Image comes first with a successful company. How could Joe have gotten involved with these losers?

When she stepped into the third floor hallway the only light came from a grime covered south facing window and faded to shadow at the end of the hall. The chipped gold letters on the double glass doors read 'Crosby and Brown, Engineers and Architects'.

The darkened office looked closed at first, then a fluorescent light flickered. She caught a glimpse of two greasy engineer types standing by a water cooler. She could do this. She'd done Joe's dirty work for years, she could do her own. Her fingers found their way into her carefully combed hair and ruffled it back until she resembled an angry rooster. With a deep breath she pulled open the heavy glass door.

Inside, the lobby looked like the remnants of a fire sale. No two chairs matched each other. A cracked Naugahyde sofa leered at her from a dark corner. In the center the receptionist, in a wheel chair, sat at a raised dais that looked like something from the demolition of a court house. A single spot directed her eyes to a brass plaque on the front of the bench:

'Dedicated to James T. Abbott (1882 - 1944)
Federal Prosecutor 1924 - 1931
County Judge 1932 - 1944

"From the Onondaga County Courthouse," had been stenciled at the bottom of the brass plate.

Above this memorial a name plate read "Mae Washington" which logically referred to the aristocratic black woman sitting behind the bench, acting as a receptionist. Mae's gaze was off somewhere in the distance while she spoke into the microphone of her headset. Finally she ended her conversation by stabbing a button on her phone with a long, straight finger and turned to Melinda. "Can I help you?"

Melinda drew a deep, calming breath. "Yes. My name is Melinda Dupree and I am here to meet with Mr. Crosby."

Mae Washington peered over the half lens reading glasses perched on her nose and seemed to consider Melinda an example of something distasteful carried in from the street on the bottom of someone's shoe. "Mr. Crosby has been taking no appointments," she said with a tone intended to end the discussion before it began.

"He's expecting me. Please let him know I'm here," Melinda turned away and sat on the couch. Mae shrugged and dialed her phone. There was a brief exchange and the Mae said, "Yes sir" into the headset and "He'll be with you in a few minutes" to Melinda.

"Thanks," Melinda said and straightened her suit as best she could.

A few minutes apparently meant immediately as a door opened at the end of the darkened office and a tall man strode down toward the lobby.Melinda stood, the better to meet him on an equal level. She hated being short, five foot in her bare feet and not much more with sensible shoes.She always had to look up when she met men, which was a disadvantage.

Crosby was taller than most. He might have been fifty with his short hair going to gray and salt in his goatee, but he radiated energy and strength. He stuck his hand out and she took it with some concern, but his grip was gentle and warm. The warmth spread in ways Melinda rarely experienced with men.

"Melinda. I appreciate you coming. I'm sorry to hear about your father.Joe's death seemed to come pretty quick?" he said.

"Thanks for your concern, Mr. Crosby. Cancer isn't a quick way to die no matter how fast it seems. I wouldn't wish it on a stray dog." Melinda reluctantly let go of his hand. What the hell is wrong with me?

"I understand. It's tough losing a parent at any age." He smiled hard at her. "We've got a lot to talk about. Shall we go to my office?" He waved her down the hall.

Mae harrumphed as they passed the Bench of Justice and spun herself around in her wheel chair. "Josh? Are you taking appointments now?"There was a definite edge in her voice, like she wanted to throw a knife at him.

Josh looked back at Mae and pointed to Melinda. "This lady is special.This is a special time for our company. We all have to do our parts."

Mae looked at him over her glasses and attempted a smile, but it never reached her eyes. Melinda looked back at Crosby. Had she just been insulted? Before anything further could be said he turned and strode down the corridor, with Melinda struggling to match his long legged pace.

The corridor opened on an office bay where at least seventy five cubicles could be set up. There were only a couple of workstations and tables covered with plans and spec books. The rest of the space was dark and empty, partially illuminated by the bright May sunshine filtered through the dirty windows.

Josh ushered her into his office. Well dusted and lit with sunlight through clear windows, the room contrasted sharply to the dinginess of the rest of the office. The large dark wood desk looked freshly polished, its top protected with a heavy sheet of glass. He drew thick curtains across the clean windows, leaving the room lit only with artificial light.

"I'm glad you came," he said and pointed to the two overstuffed leather visitor chairs. "C'mon. Have a seat. I've been looking forward to this."

"Sure," Melinda said. She eyed Josh Crosby carefully as she sat down. He seemed subtly different from the man she'd just greeted, darker and a little dangerous. With the door shut and the drapes drawn she had the feeling she'd been locked in some animal's den. Maybe it was the after effects of her odd reaction to him. "I came as soon as I could. Joe's funeral was Saturday."

"I should have attended but things- have been so unsettled." He half sat on the edge of his desk and pulled a cigar out of an ornate humidor.

"Do you...?" He lifted the cigar to his nose to savor the aroma.

Melinda leaned forward and plucked the stogie from his hand. "Nothing like a good cigar to set the mood of a business meeting." She bit the end off, spit it on the floor, and lit the cigar with a Bic she pulled from her jacket pocket.

Crosby's eyes seemed to follow her every move. She shifted on the uncomfortably big chair and drew smoke through the cigar. Her opening gambit to show him she was his equal.

"Business meeting?" His smile twisted with a dark irony. His eyes lost their jovial warmth, replaced with something harder.

So that's how it's going to be? Melinda raised her eyebrows as high as they would go and blew a stream of smoke his way. "Joe said you were his partner in this telecommunications center deal. I'm Joe's heir. So I guess we have a lot to discuss, don't you agree?"

Crosby looked at her as though she had grown gills and was spouting poetry in ancient Sanskrit. What was it about men that made them think women couldn't handle business? She hated the patronizing. She hated fighting every day for their respect.

"Well," he said, his voice a bit lower, his tone suddenly condescending."Since you're here, what do you want to talk about?"

She settled back in the chair as far as she could without her feet coming off the floor just to show him she was relaxed and in control."Joe put every nickel he had into this project. And now the bonding company has told me they have been issued a cure letter by the developers. According to them we're months behind schedule and no work is being done. Joe's dead. I can't ask him what happened so I've got to ask you." She leaned forward and pointed the cigar at him. "What's the problem?"

A shadow skipped across Crosby's face as he paced to the window. His lips pursed into a tight line. Was he offended by her bluntness? Too bad if he was.

He turned back to her and made a grimace like he had to clean up something distasteful. "It's the Hotel Excelsior. It's in the middle of the property and the title hasn't been resolved."

"Why not?"

"The owner doesn't want it destroyed." Crosby's voice became brittle like the sound of boots on broken glass.

"Isn't the building abandoned? It's got to be a wreck by now." Melinda noted each subtle shift in his body language and the intonation of his words. He was holding something back, or lying outright. What was he trying to get from her?

Crosby glared at her. "The Excelsior was the most elegant hotel in Syracuse. Presidents stayed there. Captain's of Industry. It was important." He turned away, again, and said in a whisper. "And it still is."

"Look, I don't care about the damned hotel. You're the designer. We're partners. If it's a problem why aren't you designing us a way around the damned hotel?" Melinda kept her own voice cool as ice despite a sudden wave of nausea. He wasn't acting like a business man. She blew another stream of cigar smoke his way.

Anger flared in his eyes. He seemed to struggle with his self control, walking away from her, then pacing back to the desk.

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter -this contract. What does it matter anyway? You're not going to build the damned telecomm Center. Your business looses money. So what? It doesn't matter. None of this matters." Crosby's pacing became more like a wild animal's panic after being placed in a cage than a man's thoughtful exercise. Shadows flickered across his face like so many different masks.

Melinda felt the hot flush of anger, but she'd had this trick played on her before during negotiations. One side tries to get the other emotional. The loser gets mad.

He's playing the game. Trying to shake me into folding. This is just business. He wants something. Everyone wants something. But what does he want?

And Joe, what were you thinking getting involved with this fruit bowl?And risking everything? If he wasn't already dead she'd kill him. She dropped her cigar in an ashtray.

"Let's try this again. Let me tell you what I want." Melinda bounced out of her chair and stood in front Crosby, cutting off his pacing. Her eyes were about level with the third button on his shirt where she poked him with her forefinger. Crosby backed up with each jab until he collapsed in his chair.

"Josh." She leaned into his space and spoke with a tone she'd learned on the construction site, hard as steel. "I want my company made whole again. Significant progress has got to be made in the next two weeks or the bond is called and the contract is terminated. Now tell me what you want, so we can do business and make lots of money."

Everybody wanted something. That was the nature of business. Joe taught her early to find out what the other guy really wants. The key to a good deal was to get what you want and leave the other guy thinking he got what he wanted. But what the hell did Crosby think he could get out of this deal by acting crazy and letting the job go into default?

His attitude shifted again. Shadows of emotion flickered across his features like so many images on a screen. Harsh and angry, pleading, haughty, kind, cruel. At last his features settled on sad eyes and a weak smile. He slid around the desk until their knees were almost touching.

"I'm not sure how to put this." His eyes darted up, then away.

"Just spit it out." Melinda concentrated on her control. His bizarre antics sent chills up and down her spine, and not in a good way. "You know what I want. Now tell me."

"OK," he said, scooting his chair until their knees did touch. "I know the business is important to you. It should matter to me, but it doesn't anymore. Don't you see? I've spent my whole life chasing success and it's meaningless. All I want is you. With every bit of my soul I want you with me, in my life, in my house. Now you've come to me. I need you, Melinda."

She rocked back like he'd slapped her. He was throwing both of their businesses away because he wanted her? She struggled to keep calm. "Get a grip on yourself old man. This is business. We need a plan to keep this contract solvent."

Crosby pushed himself out of his chair and leaned over her. She stopped him with her hand. "You're on drugs right? Meth? Or Ecstasy? Is that what's going on here? Is that why your office looks like the inside of an abandoned building? You're going to ruin my company so you can put something up your nose? Bullshit." She walked to the door. Her temper creaked like an unraveling cable. How could she do business with a man whose priority was head candy? If it was. He didn't look like he was drugs. Worse if he wasn't.

"No. I swear it. I've been waiting for you all my life. You're my destiny. You're my soul mate and I'm yours." He stood in the awkward leaning position like he was hung on a hook where she'd left him.

"You're so full of shit, Josh," she said as she pulled the door open. "I don't know whether you're on drugs or crazy or just stupid. It doesn't even matter any more. I'm not losing everything my father left me because you're a space case."

Crosby took a stiff legged step nearer to her. Melinda stalked out of the door, and turned. "And Josh. No matter what else happens with the contract that damned mausoleum is coming down."