Better Than New Ch. 02

"I'd better get back to work, Mr. Beeson. Thank you for inviting me. It was an amazing experience."

"Please, call me Warren, and if you don't mind, I'll call you Valentine," the man requested. He couldn't resist the implied formality.

"Thank you, Warren. I don't mind at all."

"It's going to take me a couple of days to absorb all this. I wonder if you wouldn't mind letting me know where I might obtain insurance."

"I'll do that. I see you have an e-mail address on your card. I'll send you the information there if that's all right."

"Fine. We should get together to talk about what needs to be done to bring the cars back to good running order. In the meantime, please send me your bill. You've been an invaluable help to me."

"No charge, Warren. This was a learning experience for me. I'd have paid for the privilege."

"Not a very good business practice," he chuckled.

"On the contrary. You never know when what I've learned can be turned into cash."

"Thank you again, Valentine. We'll talk soon."

Friday, December 4th, 3:45pm

"What was that all about this morning?" Doreen asked.

"It's confidential, and please keep this to yourself. Mr. Beeson has discovered two old, rare automobiles stored in his original factory building. They apparently were brought over from Europe by his father after World War II. Warren asked me to have a look at them. Coultard is an expert appraiser, called in because I was pretty sure they were something special. I just didn't know how special. He's suggesting Beeson insure them for five million dollars."

"Oh my god! Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"So, you and Mr. Beeson are on a first name basis now, huh?"

"Since about an hour ago," I admitted. Which reminds me, I've got to e-mail him the names of a couple of specialty insurers. I'd better do that now."

"Okay, Valentine," she smirked.

"So now you know."

"Yeah. Let me guess ... you were born on February 14."

I looked at her with a wrinkled grin. "I only hire smart people."

I saw her arch an eyebrow as she returned to her work.

Wednesday, December 23rd, 8:05am

"Good morning, Better Than New, Val speaking."

"It's Damon Coultard, Mr. Keating. Thought I'd give you a call before I sent Mr. Beeson some further documents. I hope you received a copy of my report and photographs."

"Yes, I did, and thank you." I was interested in what he had learned about the ownership.

"I talked to Mr. Beeson a few moments ago, and he authorized me to talk to you as well. As far as we can discover, the Mercedes was spirited away from an officer by the name of Baldur Hauptman, sometime prior to the surrender of the German army. We can find no evidence that any survivors exist, since he was the only son of his parents. We have attested to this and had it notarized. It should be sufficient to obtain registration in most of the U.S.

"As I suspected, the Bugatti was registered to a Mons. Jacque LeSarde in Clermond-Ferrand. Unfortunately, Mons. LeSarde's family were Jewish, and they were sent to the concentration camp in Choiseul in 1941, from which they never returned. We have no information about how the car ended up in Germany, if that is where it was found."

"Even nearly seventy years later, these things still haunt us," I said.

"Yes. In my travels in Europe, I often see evidence of the atrocities. Not just German, but Russian, and even some by fellow countrymen. I doubt I'll ever come to terms with them."

"So, I'm assuming that Mr. Beeson has now the ability to register the two cars?"

"Yes, he should have little problem with our documents in hand."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased. I appreciated your prompt work and helping me understand what is involved in your profession. The detail in your report will assist me in assessing projects in the future. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, Mr. Keating. Good Day."

By all accounts, Mr. Coultard had just made Warren Beeson Senior five million dollars richer. I didn't have long to wait for confirmation.

"It's Warren Beeson, Valentine. I think you've probably already heard from Damon Coultard, so you know the outcome of the title search."

"Yes. You must be pleased, Warren."

"Very. I've already had preliminary discussions with my lawyer about registering the cars. Once that's done, I'd like to get together with you to discuss what needs to be done to bring them up to concours standards. I'd like to show them a few times before I put them up for auction."

"Good idea. Advertising of a different kind," I suggested.

"Exactly. I'd also like to discuss moving them to a more secure location. Once the word gets out, I want to be sure I don't become a target for thieves."

"I think I may be able to help there too. Let's talk about it when all the registration issues are taken care of."

"Fine, and thank you again for all your assistance. It's been very valuable."

"You're welcome. Bye."

Thursday, December 24th, 1:20pm

"Are all the checks made out, Carolyn?"

"Yes, Val. I've put them all in envelopes for you."

"Good. Why don't we get started then? Find one with your name on it."

"Right here, on the top," she grinned.

"Merry Christmas, and thanks for all your contributions to our success. I'm delighted we have a decent profit to share with each of our employees," I said, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I want to thank you for including me and Doreen. We haven't been here that long, but it's a great present just at Christmas. Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome. Now, let's go find Doreen and get things going. I'd like to close up in a few minutes."

Since Carolyn had made up the checks, there were no surprises, but she was amazed at just how large they were, especially for the longer term employees. The checks she and Doreen received were greater than any they had ever earned at Beeson.

"Merry Christmas," Carolyn chimed happily as we tromped into the portable. "Santa's arrived."

Doreen clapped her hands in glee as she spied the envelopes. There were no surprises about what gifts Santa was bearing.

"Congratulations, Doreen. You two girls have made a huge difference in the last six months. This is well deserved," I said, handing the envelope and surprising her with a kiss on the cheek.

The look on her face was one of shock for a moment, before it disappeared. She looked uncertain and confused, and I wondered if I had stepped over the line with the kiss.

"Sorry, Doreen. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No ... no ... it's okay. You just ... startled me. Anyway, thank you very much. This is a wonderful time for this to arrive."

"You're welcome. It's well earned. Let's go, Carolyn. Santa has some little boys to call on next."

Twenty minutes later I had locked the door and was walking in the cold drizzle toward my van.

"Val!" I heard Doreen call from the walkway.

"Right here."

"I just wanted to apologize for how I reacted in there just now. I wasn't expecting ... what you did. I got a little spooked. I'm sorry, I'll try not to let it happen again."

"Don't worry about it Doreen. I just thought it was a little more personal than a handshake, but if you're uncomfortable with it, I won't do it again."

"No ... that's not what I mean. I ... it's just that ... I can't explain right now. Someday, I will. Sorry. Merry Christmas. See you Monday," she said, trying to brighten the mood as she turned and ran to her car.

"Merry Christmas," I mumbled quietly as I watched her go. We'd come a long way from that first golf game, but every once in a while, she'd go quiet or seem to be a bit down. I'd wondered what that was about, but had no idea how to approach her about it. There wasn't anything wrong with her behavior or attitude around the office, so I had nothing to complain about. Right now it remained among the unsolved mysteries of women, a fairly thick book for me.

Thursday, December 24th, 7:55pm

"Merry Christmas, Val."

"Merry Christmas, Paul. Thanks for calling. What are you up to tonight?"

"Oh, Carolyn and I are just relaxing in front of the fireplace, drinking a hot cocoa and eating cookies."

"Really! Since you don't have a fireplace and you don't drink cocoa, I won't bother to ask what you're really up to," I chuckled.

"Thank you for that. What are you doing besides watching TV?"

"Not much. I'll be spending tomorrow with my parents from noon on. How about you?"

"Yeah ... well ... I'm spending tomorrow with Carolyn at her parents' place."

"No shit! You're driving a hundred miles to be with your girlfriend's parents on Christmas Day? What should I make of that?"

"I'll tell you about it when we get back. We're staying over and coming back Sunday. It should make a nice break for us. You really made Carolyn's year with that profit sharing check. I think she's spent it about ten times over already."

"It's the most fun I get all year, to tell the truth. There was lots of hootin' and hollerin' at the old corral yesterday afternoon, as Carolyn has probably already told you."

"I'm jealous. We don't see our bonuses until nearly February when the books are closed, and then it's nothing the size of yours. You really spoil your people, but you won't hear me complain."

"Yeah ... well ... it's been a great motivator. I just hope we can keep it up when the new addition is finished in April. I've found some new people for the shop, but it's a bit of a gamble that they'll fit in and work out well."

"Oh ... I've got a hunch you'll be fine. BTN is a great place to work. Everyone says so, so it must be true. Just keep doin' what you're doin' and you'll be okay. Anyway, have a Merry Christmas and say hi to your folks for me."

"You too, Paul. Thanks for calling. Bye."

I'd barely put the phone down when it rang again.

"Good Christmas Eve, Valentine."

"Oh ... Merry Christmas ... Warren. How are you?"

"On my own this evening. Trip is off with his lady friend and Mrs. Davis has gone to her daughter's home for a couple of days."

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"My son and his lady will be here for our Christmas dinner. We'll do the usual gifts then. And you?"

"Spending the day with my parents. It's pretty traditional, too. Gifts around noon, then dinner at four. Gives us a few hours to digest my mother's wonderful cooking."

"Well, I've already received my Christmas present, thanks to you. I just wanted to call and wish you a Merry Christmas and thank you once again for all your help and guidance. I'd like to discuss what to do with the cars with you at some future date, but let's leave that until after the holiday season."

"I'd be glad to help in any way I can. I suspect that once the word gets out, our little part of the world is going to become quite well known to the collector community."

"You could be right. Ah well, a little notoriety can't hurt too much. Maybe even bring about some good. We could use some in this economy."

"Yes, we could."

"Once again, Merry Christmas, Valentine. I hope you have a wonderful day with your family. We'll talk again soon."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Warren. Thank you for calling."

I put the phone down and wondered if Trip's "lady" was still Monica. I noticed Warren didn't identify her by name. I wondered if he knew our history. I wondered also if Trip knew just how involved his father and I had become. Wouldn't I love to be a fly on the wall when that conversation came about, if it hadn't already. It was enough to make a fellow smile.

Friday, December 25th, 5:40pm

"Oh, brother. It seems like every year your mother makes more food than we can possibly eat, and I'm supposed to be on a diet. I don't think I'll be able to get up out of this chair for a while."

"Yeah. I think I could have done without that last helping and the dessert as well. What the heck, Dad, it only happens a couple of times a year. I guess we can survive it."

"I guess. You hand out the checks yesterday?"

"Yup. Made twelve people very happy. It's fun to play Santa."

"When do your new guys start?"

"I'm spreading them out over a couple of weeks. I've got one on each Monday starting January 4th. That should give Tommy some time to evaluate them. They're all out of work now, so they should be anxious to do well. They've got the experience. I just have to be satisfied they will do the work the way I want it done and fit in with our people. The worst thing that can happen is them causing problems on the shop floor."

"Yeah ... well ... Callaway Custom had a pretty good reputation for work, but he wasn't much of a businessman. Very disorganized. Couldn't rely on him to meet dates and was forever revising estimates. I'm sure that's what got him into trouble."

"That's the word, all right. How's your side doing these days?"

"Fine ... got all the work I need. I did like playing with that DeSoto, though. That brought back a lot of old memories."

"Dad, that car was built before you were born. Just what old memories are you talking about?"

"Aw, hell, you know what I mean. When cars were simpler. None of this electronic stuff, and power everything."

"I wanted to tell you about a discovery that was made locally. Warren Beeson II found two cars in his old factory. Apparently, his father snatched them out of Europe after the war and brought them into the country. One's a 1937 Mercedes and the other is a 1936 Bugatti. We've had them appraised and authenticated. You won't believe how much they're worth."

"We? How did you get involved?"

"Warren came to me for advice. I was pretty sure they were very special, so I put him in touch with a professional appraiser."

"You and Warren Beeson," my father said with an unbelieving look. "You mean, Warren the second?"

"The same," I grinned.

"After what his kid did to you?"

"That was Trip. His father isn't anything like him."

"I know that, but ... Jesus ... Val ...."

"Relax, Dad, it's business, and Warren is still a prominent man in the community."

"I suppose," he exhaled. "It still knocks me out."

"I was thinking ... I wonder what Trip will say when he finds out his father and I are working together. That should give him something to think about."

"Yeah," he said with a smirk, "it would, wouldn't it. Makes you wonder what dear little Monica will think too."

"When she finds out what those cars are worth, she'll wet herself."

"How much are they worth?"

"They're insured for five million," I smiled, waiting for my dad's reaction.

"Holy shit!"

"David ... language please," we heard mother call from the kitchen.

"Ain't that always the way. The rich get richer."

"Seems like it," I agreed.

Sunday, December 27th, 11:00am

"Hey, Val, how was Christmas?"

"Fine, thanks, Paul. How about you. You get along with Carolyn's folks okay?"

"Yeah. You know me. I can get along with anyone. Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know, besides my parents I mean. Carolyn and I are engaged. I gave her the ring Christmas morning."

"Well, I'll be damned. The town's most confirmed bachelor is engaged? I don't believe it."

"Believe it, man. I waited a long time for the right one to come along, and now I've got her ... or maybe she's got me. It's hard to tell who's happiest."

"Congratulations, Paul. I'm really pleased for you. Carolyn's a great girl. You can't miss with her."

"Yeah. I think so too. Anyway, her folks are happy, my folks are happy, and you're happy. That's the trifecta I was hoping for."

"When's the wedding?"

"Haven't decided that yet. I think I'll let the mothers and Carolyn work it out. I'm just along for the ride."

"You got it. That's how it works," I laughed.

Monday, December 28th, 12:15pm

"So what are you doing on New Years Eve, Doreen?" I asked between bites of my sandwich.

"Nothing, I guess. Carolyn and Paul wanted me to tag along with them, but I'd be a fifth wheel, and I'd rather not. What about you?"

"Same. No plans. This past Christmas and New Years are the first since my divorce, so I haven't really thought about what to do with myself."

She stopped eating her salad and looked at me for a few moments before resuming her lunch.

"There's an open party at the community center. A lot of the people will be singles there. You wouldn't stand out on your own," she said, almost timidly.

"Same goes for you, I guess. Tell you what ... if you'll go ... I'll go."

She thought about it without looking at me for another few moments. Then she surprised me. "All right. You have a deal."

"Great. Looks like we'll have something to celebrate on New Years after all," I kidded. "Can I pick you up?"

"I guess. I assume that there'll be drinking at the party, so one of us will have to stay sober."

"I'm your guy. I don't drink much to begin with, so I'll pace myself and we'll be fine. You can really tear it up if you want to." I was laughing as I suggested it.

"Do I look like I'm a 'tear it up' kind of girl to you?"

"I don't know. Looks can be deceiving. I guess we'll find out Thursday night. I'll look after the tickets. What time should I call for you?"

"Well, how about nine o'clock?"

"Nine it is. I'm looking forward to it."

Thursday, December 31st, 9:00pm

"Good evening, Ms. Gordon. You look even more lovely than usual."

"Why thank you, Mr. Keating. You look very handsome in yourself in that suit. I think it's the first time I've ever seen you in a shirt and tie. Very nice."

"Thank you. These clothes are reserved for special occasions only. This definitely qualifies as a special occasion," I said as I helped her on with her coat.

Holding her hand, I guided her down the walkway from the apartment toward my Jaguar.

"Oh, Val. Is this yours?"

"Yes. This is mine. Just like my suit, it comes out for special occasions."

"It's beautiful. Can cars be called sexy? I think this car is really sexy?"

"I don't see why not. If I'm going to escort a sexy lady, then what's more appropriate than a sexy car?" I got a nice smile in reply.

I held the door as she slipped carefully into the passenger seat of the E-type.

"I smell leather," she commented as I got in.

"Yes. I had the seats and door panels redone recently. I have a very skilled Italian leather upholsterer that I call on for special projects," I said as I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"It is a beautiful car, inside and out. Very sleek. How old is it?"

"It's a 1963 model, Series 1. It's the best of the best, I think. After a while, Jaguar kind of lost its way. The car got bigger and bulkier and uglier year after year. This car might be one of the top ten most beautiful cars ever built. At least, I think so, but then again, I'm biased."

I saw Doreen relax and sink back into the seat as we growled along toward the community center. I helped her out when we parked and brought an umbrella with us in case the rain started again. It was cold and damp and a good night to be indoors.

I took Doreen's coat, and along with mine, handed it to the coatroom attendant. I took her hand again, almost by instinct, but she didn't shy away as she might have earlier. We were making some progress with being comfortable in each other's company. We certainly weren't having any problems at work. She was rapidly becoming the take-charge person I wanted at my side. Now, if I could just get her to loosen up a bit socially, we might just hit it off.

I went to the cash bar and showed the two complimentary drink tickets. A white wine for Doreen and a beer for me. The band had just started up, and they didn't sound too bad. I figured I'd wait until they played some slow ones before I asked her to dance. Thinking about it, it might be the first time I'd ever touched her with more than a handshake or the kiss on the cheek.

"I can see you like the band too," I ventured. She had been tapping her fingers to the rhythm of the tune they were playing.