Chance Encounter Ch. 08

"I was sure that you were wearing some." She said as she retook her chair. She started giggling. "I'm wearing some perfume, could you tell, Walter?"

Walter nodded his head quickly. "Yes!" he gasped.

"I'm tipsy from the wine." Marge giggled seductively. "I feel as vulnerable as a schoolgirl."

She leaned into Walter and whispered, "You wouldn't take advantage of me, would you?"

"No, Marge, don't worry." was his nervous reply.

"No, I should think not! At my age a woman doesn't have to worry about that any more." she feigned self-pity.

"Nonsense, Marge! I think of you as being very attractive." declared Walter.

Marge scooted her chair closer to Walter's. Their knees touched and Marge noted that he didn't pull away.

"Do you think so?" she asked eagerly. "You wouldn't just say that, would you?" She drove her eyes right through his.

Walter shook his head 'no'. Marge back away slightly and waited silently for Walter to speak.

"Marge, I took and a chance and bought some tickets for us. I hope that you can go."

Marge waited patiently for Walter to finish.

"It's for the performance of Handel's "Messiah" at the University of Michigan down in Ann Arbor. It will be on the first Saturday in December."

"That sounds wonderful, Walter!" Marge exclaimed.

Walter's face took on a satisfied look.

"But there's just one problem." Marge put on a frown.

"What?" Walter was suddenly deflated.

"It would be such a long drive in the winter—two hours one way—and it would be so expensive for two hotel rooms." Marge pointed out.

"I hadn't thought of that." Walter said, but Marge knew that he must have.

"Walter, at our age lost opportunities are more expensive than when we were younger."

She let her point hit home and placed his hand gently over his. Walter was silent, but Marge could tell that his mind was stepping nicely into line. He picked up his half-full cup of wine and drained it. Marge leaned forward. She whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe as she spoke.

"I made some apple pie for dessert. We can have some later."

She gently clasped his hand and led him upstairs. Walter wore a nervous smile. Soon he would be wearing nothing else.

Poor Walter never stood a chance, but he may not have wanted one in the first place.

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The holidays passed quietly. Paul was happy to have his daughter and son home from school for a few weeks. It gave him a chance to catch up with them. He didn't mention his romances with Glenda and Marge. Both were in the past. It would be pointless to upset them.

Marge and Walter were still an item. She didn't talk a lot about it, but Paul noticed her stepping lightly about the office as she did her filing. She seemed happy. Paul was glad that she was.

Ted Wilson told Paul that Glenda had taken a new job at the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. She was the Appointments Secretary for the General Counsel. She handled the schedule and appointments of that executive. She reported to The Counsel's Administrative Assistant. She was taking Paralegal Training at night, hoping to step into the higher level when the incumbent retired in September. Paul was happy for her.

The lawsuit involving the Peoria Project was progressing slowly. The lawyers had been in court countless times. Not a single word had been argued in favor or against the plant. The issue was whether the case belonged in State or Federal Court. Hopkins had brought the suit in Federal Court, the tribunal of choice of activists. Wilton's Agency, of course, preferred its own brand of judge. As the case ping-ponged between courts, Paul gave up on ever building a solvents plant in that city. When he thought of the waste, it angered him, but he had other work to do.

January gave way to February. Business took Paul to Latin America and then to Texas. It was nice to have a respite from the Michigan winter. He had important business in Corpus Christi and Texas City. From there, he took a flight to Georgia to interview a candidate for the Plant Engineer position at the Marietta Plant. The whole trip consumed two weeks and he was glad to be heading home. He found himself in Hartsfield Airport awaiting his flight back home.

He was ambling down the concourse when he heard his name being paged. He wasn't expecting to meet anyone that day. He arrived at an information desk and the attendant handed him a message: "Meet Leonard Raines in the Red Carpet Lounge".

Paul knew Raines. Usually, they were adversaries. Leonard Raines was Executive Director of Concerned Scientists of America (CSA). The two men seldom agreed on anything, but they respected one another. Raines had impeccable credentials, including a PhD in microbiology. Paul knew him to be very intelligent and sincere in his views. If Paul saw a shortcoming, it was Raines' inability to effectively control his herd of zealots. He had heard that Raines hadn't sought out the administrative job. His reputation had landed him there. For organizations like his, the power of name recognition and prestige were equally as important as science.

Raines was about Paul's age. He had a slender build and was shorter than average. His hair was wavy and salt and pepper-colored. His beard matched. He was a quiet sort of fellow, not given to idle chat or bluster. In another time and place Paul and Leonard may have become friends.

They had clashed many times. Paul always noted that Raines never went personal when he skirmished. Paul appreciated that. Many of Raines' people did not have the same discipline. Arthur Hopkins was a good example. As always, with money flowing into a controversy, the stakes increased along with passions. Grants from foundations and government were the fuel that powered CSA's engine. The quest for profit and competitive advantages drove Dunn's. Both men knew that there was always plenty of margin for error on both sides of any argument. That was their private face. In public they had to bare their teeth, or the press would sense surrender.

Paul arrived at the lounge. He slid his keycard into the security door and punched in his PIN. He wished that the airliners were guarded as closely as the private VIP bars in the nation's airports.

"Go ahead and blow us out of the sky—just stay away from our booze." He said to himself to no one in particular. Paul knew he was tired. He always became sarcastic when he was worn out.

He sauntered up to the bar and got a Scotch. He looked around and finally found Leonard Raines sitting at a table in the corner, almost unnoticed. He strode over to him.

"Hello, Leonard!" he called out. "It's good to see you."

Paul startled Raines, who had been lost in his thoughts.

"Hello, Paul. I'm glad that you got my page." Both men extended their hands and shook them as they got close enough. "I was trying to reach you at your office. They told me that you were here in Atlanta. I took the liberty." Raines explained.

"I've got ninety minutes before boarding." Paul told him, taking a pull on his Scotch.

"They cancelled my flight to New York. I've got two hours." Raines one-upped him.

"We haven't seen one another in more than a year." Raines said.

Paul nodded. He sensed that Raines had something to say, but was having a hard time getting started. Paul was very good at cutting to the chase.

"What's up, Leonard?" Paul demanded.

"It's this suit over that plant proposal in Peoria, Illinois." Raines started. "I just wanted to let you know that we never really wanted it."

Paul absorbed Raines' statement and tried to analyze it. His first reaction was disbelief. He stifled it. Experience of the past year had warned him that anything was possible.

"You'll have to explain this to me, Leonard. I'm sure that you remember that you are the plaintiffs and we're the defendants."

"It's Hopkins!" Raines began. "He did this on his own without our approval. It was done before we even knew it existed. He arranged it with Northwestern Law School without our knowledge. By the time we found out about it, it was too late."

Raines' revelation reminded him of the long-destroyed compromising photos of Hopkins and Judson. Paul envisioned how Raines' story could have happened. He decided to keep that to himself.

"What do you mean 'too late'? Why don't you pull the plug on him?" Paul queried.

Raines looked away. Paul could see that he was groping for a way to answer.

"There is a lot of money being wasted on this lawsuit." Paul pressed harder. "That plant should be up and running now. Your case has no merit. The lawyers have been in court a dozen times, and they haven't even argued it yet."

Paul paused, waiting for an answer from Raines. Receiving none, he continued.

"There's a construction company owned by a guy named Harry Carmichael that was nearly ruined because they were slated to build that plant. They turned down three other jobs, and then got left high and dry. Think of the people down there that should have jobs. On top of all that, Dunn should be down there producing, taking over the market, instead of wasting its money on these lawyers."

Paul waited again for his answer, and still didn't receive it.

"Leonard, I hope you don't mind some free advice, but I would have to say that your organization is out of control." Paul issued his final words.

Raines turned his gaze from the window and looked at Paul.

"I know." He said, almost in a whisper.

"Is that what you paged me for?" asked Paul, rising from his chair. "I've got a plane to catch."

"Wait, don't go." pleaded Raines. "You've got to understand about Hopkins. We both know that he's a quack, but he's a quack with a big following. A lot of people think that he walks on water. Those people are the ones who make contributions to our organization; they write their congressmen to support us with grants. When I confronted Hopkins about this, he threatened to split away from us—go public—take his support with him. He's got us over a barrel."

"So this is really a PR battle!" Paul replied. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought that you might have a solution." Raines suggested.

"Like what?" Paul demanded. "Do you want us to give up the suit?"

Raines nodded yes. "We could have a secret arrangement to accommodate you another time."

"Not a chance!" Paul countered.

"We really don't want this." Raines said. "You have to understand—our hands are tied."

Paul thought for a minute. Raines' admissions infuriated him. Paul fought to control his anger. If there was a chance that the Peoria problem could be resolved, he didn't want to lose it.

"There is something, Leonard." Paul said. Raines leaned forward intently.

"Let me tell you that I am going to divulge this because I've been able to trust you in the past." Paul warned. "If you use this against me, it won't go down easy."

"I've always been straight with you, Paul." Raines assured him.

"It's just this." Paul began. "There's a plant proposal of ours in Corpus Christi that I know that you've filed a brief against."

"I know of it. We filed, but never thought that our suit had much chance." Raines interjected.

"We're not going through with it. We already have a plant in Texas City. We'll expand that plant and put the production in there. It will be announced next week. You must promise to lay off the Texas City expansion. You can take credit for foiling the Corpus Christi project. Then, you can order the suit in Peoria dropped. If Hopkins and his followers howl, you can say that you flogged Dunn Chemicals already, just used a different whip. They won't like it, but they'll swallow it."

Raines eyes lit up. Paul knew that he had carried the ball into the end zone.

"That just might work!" Raines exclaimed.

"You have to make it work!" Paul commanded. "In the meantime, I'll set things up at our office. I'll call you in a day or two to coordinate. It will be good for everyone. You'll have Hopkins under control, the suit will go away, and we'll have cover for backing out of Corpus Christi."

They clinked their half empty glasses together to seal the agreement.

And so, while two men were waiting for a plane in Atlanta, they resolved the lawsuit over the proposed Peoria Plant. They accomplished what an army of lawyers could not in months of wrangling and maneuver. Their budget was the cost of two drinks. They didn't need blackmail, fraud or bribery. It was actually very easy.

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TO BE CONTINUED...