Ingrid Ch. 09

This is the final chapter of a re-post of my first story, Ingrid. It has been re-edited to improve the punctuation, grammar and, I hope, the readability.

Ingrid sat fidgeting in the anteroom of the Ministry of Health office, located on the third floor of an office building three blocks from the Legislature. She was naturally nervous and she was struggling to compose herself before she went into the conference room. She jumped when the door opened and a tall, slim man in his mid-forties walked out and smiled at her.

"Ingrid Solberg?" he asked politely.

"Yes," she answered.

"Welcome. Thank you for coming so promptly," he continued lightly. "I'm Gordon Davenport. I'm the Assistant Director for this Department."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Davenport. Thank you for the invitation to meet with you," she said, still nervous.

"Well, we were impressed with your presentation Ms. Solberg. Won't you come in and I'll introduce you to the others."

He held open the door and allowed Ingrid to enter before him.

There were three others in the meeting, all men. Two were casually dressed young men she recognized from her original presentation. The third was older, possibly in his fifties, and dressed in a business suit. The two younger men were junior clerks in the procurement group, while the more senior man was introduced as Eric Knorr, Deputy Minister of Health.

Davenport introduced her, and they seated themselves with Davenport at the head of the table, Ingrid on one side and the other three on her opposite side. Ingrid looked nervously around the table and wondered how the meeting would start. She didn't have long to wait. Davenport passed out an agenda on a single page and began to discuss the details of Ingrid's bid.

In a little over an hour, they described the options available to expand the contract and wanted to know what more work could be accomplished if the current base was increased by twenty, twenty-five and thirty percent. After assuring Ingrid that the additional work was identical in scope to her original criteria, she pulled out her computer and opened the program to the contract application. The group gathered around behind her as she showed them the base calculations and various special costs. Within ten minutes they had estimates, subject to confirmation, of all three. The group returned to their seats and complimented her on her professional methodology.

"That's impressive, Ms. Solberg. Your competition wants another week to put the revised bid together," Davenport said seriously. "How long will it take you to confirm these calculations?"

"You'll have them before your day starts on Monday," she said confidently. "I can fax them to you over the weekend, if that's satisfactory."

"It certainly is!" Davenport exclaimed. "I'll give you our private fax number so that it doesn't get lost in the office mail. I think that concludes our meeting Ms. Solberg. Once again, thank you for coming on short notice."

"You're welcome. Thank you for this opportunity," she smiled, feeling more confident as everyone rose to leave the room.

"Ms. Solberg." It was Eric Knorr. "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course," she replied, suddenly wary.

The Deputy Minister sat down in the chair opposite Ingrid and waited until the door had been closed behind the departing group.

"I was very impressed with your presentation and professional approach, especially considering you are a one person operation," he smiled.

"Thank you Mr. Knorr," she replied, still cautious.

"You live in the riding served by my Minister, Michael Saggert, don't you?"

"Yes, that's right," she replied simply.

"Have you met the Minister, Ms. Solberg?"

"No, I haven't." Ingrid was becoming visibly nervous.

"I see." He looked at her carefully. "Do you know a Steve Inhalt?"

Ingrid's heart jumped and the shocked look on her face answered his question immediately. "Yes ... Yes I do," she stammered. "Why?"

"I had a visit from my Minister yesterday. He was asking about this contract and what decision we would likely make. I gather he and Mr. Inhalt are friends and he wanted to know if you were likely to be awarded the contract," he continued. "Ministers almost never involve themselves in contracts this small, but I'm not in the position to ignore his interest."

Ingrid had begun to overcome her shock and her face was beginning to change to one of anger.

Eric Knorr could not help but see the change, and correctly interpreted the meaning. He held up his hand to her.

"I gather you knew nothing about this," he suggested.

"No! Absolutely nothing!" She was visibly shaking and her face was crimson. "I can tell you sir, that this presentation was developed and made by me. I expect no favors from anyone, and I certainly don't expect to get a contract I haven't earned," she spat.

The Deputy Minister had a faint smile on his face.

"I gather Mr. Inhalt is going to hear of your displeasure, Ms. Solberg."

"Is he ever! I'm embarrassed that this has happened, sir. My apologies are all I can offer," she said in a little more even-tempered tone.

"We didn't have this discussion, Ms. Solberg. The others in the room don't know anything about this and don't need to. Your bid will be considered fairly, and you will be notified shortly on how you have done," he said, rising to leave.

He held out his hand. "Good luck. I think you'll be a good choice," he concluded with an arched eyebrow.

He left the room as Ingrid stood in stunned silence. After a few moments, she began to gather her papers and computer together and left on shaky legs.

By the time she had reached her car, her anger had returned. She looked at her watch. It was only quarter of twelve. She had time to catch the two o'clock ferry to the mainland if the early summer weekend traffic wasn't too heavy. Waiting in the ferry line-up would give her plenty of time to decide what to do about Mr. Steve Inhalt and his insanely dangerous interference.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Where the hell did he get off going behind my back and trying to get the Minister to pull a favor? Ingrid knew she was politically naïve, but she knew enough that an intervention gone wrong might have poisoned the water for a long time to come.

"How could he be so ... so ... interfering!" she thought. "He doesn't think I can do it myself, that's why!"

Now she was really mad.

"He thinks I'm just a dependent woman who can't make her way in the world without a man's help. First the computer program, then the camera, then the laptop, now the fiddle with the government minister."

Ingrid was working herself up into an evil mood. She nearly snapped the head off the ferry attendant when she misheard the amount for her passage.

"Speak up, dammit. I'm not a lip reader," she snarled.

A dirty look and a curt "Lane fifteen," was the response.

She had no appetite. She should be celebrating again. Davenport made it clear he was impressed with her, and thank god he didn't know anything about the interference. Her stomach ached. There must be a quart of acid down there.

When Ingrid stomped in the door of her house, she literally yelled, "Steve! Where are you?"

In a moment, Steve came from the back of the house, looking warily at Ingrid.

"Here," he replied with a curious look on his face.

"Get your stuff and get the hell out of this house!" she demanded.

"What?"

"You heard me! Get your clothes and your computer and your god damn pots and pans and get the hell out," she hollered.

"Ingrid, what the hell is going on?" he asked, baffled.

"Well Mr. Smartass. You nearly got me thrown out of the Ministry of Health all by yourself. You and your bloody pal, Saggert nearly submarined my bid all by your big-mouth self," she steamed onward.

"You don't think I can do this by myself, so you take it upon yourself to go behind my back and try and fix the outcome. I'm just some helpless broad that can't make it in your man's world and constantly need your help." She was on a roll.

"Well I've got news for you pal, I can make it on my own. I don't need you or your high powered pals, and I sure as hell don't need you in my life to fuck it up. Now get your shit and get out! I'm not kidding!"

She had finally run out of steam and was standing in the middle of the room with her briefcase in one hand and her laptop in the other. The look on her face was pure venom, and her crimson complexion underscored it.

"Ingrid," Steve started in a bewildered voice. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't give me that innocent act, buster. You know very well what I'm talking about."

"No I do not!" he stated emphatically, beginning to get angry himself. "Just exactly what am I being accused of?" he demanded.

"You know perfectly well!" she shouted. "You went behind my back to that hack politician Saggert and you tried to get him to give me that contract. Well, it didn't work! In fact it backfired. The Deputy Minister had a little chat with me and made it clear it didn't work. I nearly lost everything because of you. How can you stand there and pretend you don't know what this is all about?" she fumed.

"Because I don't!" he said emphatically. "I know Mike Saggert, yes. He's a client, and I've set up some blind trusts for him while he's in office. But I have not, I repeat not, asked him for any favors on your behalf," he stated in a rising voice.

"Then just exactly how did the Deputy Minister get your name and use it to grill me?" she blasted back.

"I have no idea," he looked bewildered. "Ingrid, I know how much this contract means to you. I would never do anything that would jeopardize that opportunity. You have to believe that," he pleaded.

Steve tried again.

"I'm smart enough to know that you don't use political pressure that way. It can backfire more often that it can help. All it takes is a change of Minister or a change of Government. I know better than that! Please believe me," he begged her.

Ingrid slowly walked to her desk, set her briefcase on the floor, and carefully placed the computer on her desk.

"I'm too angry to talk to you right now. If you value your health, you'll get the hell out of here. Maybe when I calm down in a week or two, I'll talk to you ... maybe!"

Steve turned quietly and went back to the spare bedroom that he had been using as a temporary office. He silently packed some of his clothes and his computer and walked back into the living room.

"Ingrid, will you please ..."

"Not now!" she shouted.

He turned silently and walked out the front door. He stood on the front porch for a minute, his mind spinning out of control.

"There has to be a way to make her understand," he thought. He walked slowly to his car parked out at the curb and put his two bags in the back and looked back at the front window. There was no sign of her. He got in the car and drove slowly away, not certain where he was going.

Ingrid collapsed on the sofa and put her head back and let her breath go in a huge sigh. In a moment, the tears began to flow and shortly after she was racked with sobs. It began to dawn on her that she may have ended the best relationship she had ever had. The best she had ever hoped for. Had she let her ego get in the way? Was he really innocent and she wouldn't listen? She cursed herself for her stupid prideful attitude. She had to prove herself to everyone, but mostly to herself.

She sat on the sofa for a couple of hours when she began to realize she was hungry. She had skipped lunch in favour of working up her anger, and now it was nearing seven and she hadn't had anything since her light breakfast early this morning before rushing out the catch the first ferry.

She slowly rose and headed for the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and looked for something quick and easy. Steve had obviously prepared something for dinner and some of it was ready to eat. She pulled out the salad bowl and the devilled eggs.

"This will have to do," she thought.

She placed the food on the kitchen table and sat down. She stared at her food without much enthusiasm. Her anger had dissipated by now, but it had been replaced by emptiness. She had allowed her temper to drive Steve away and she didn't know how she would replace him.

The tears came again and she sat at the table with her head in her hands and just let them flow. After a while she got up and headed for the bedroom. She undressed, used the bathroom, and crawled under the covers. Alone in her bed for the first time in almost a month, she cried herself to sleep.

-0-

Steve unlocked the front door of his apartment for the first time in two weeks. He flicked on the lights and shuffled to his bedroom. The place was quiet. All the windows were closed, the central air conditioner hummed quietly as Steve dropped his overnight bag and placed his computer on his desk.

He was in shock and disorientated. He knew Ingrid was volatile, but her explosion this afternoon was beyond anything he had imagined. He could understand her anger if he'd done something wrong, but he had done nothing to deserve this. What the hell had happened to cause this?

He picked up the phone and dialed Mike Saggert's home number. It rang several times before the answering machine picked up. He left an urgent message for Mike to call him, leaving both his apartment and his cell phone number. The Legislature had adjourned for the summer, so he knew he wouldn't be in Victoria after today. On the chance he might still be there, he phoned Mike's Victoria number and again got the answering machine. He left another urgent message and hoped Mike would get one of them soon.

He walked into the living room and looked out over the narrows and Stanley Park as the sun began to set. He searched his memory to try and understand how this had happened. He had met with Mike twice in the last two weeks since he had become the Minister of Health. Mike was trying to comply with the new Legislative rules regarding Conflict of Interest related to investment ownership when in office. Steve was helping him conform to the rules, while making sure his investments were still secure.

They had become friends over time and often discussed their personal lives, but not in detail. Steve remembered mentioning Ingrid to him and how excited he was to have found her. He remembered telling Mike what her business was about and vaguely recalled him mentioning her opportunity with a provincial government contract. Yet, he didn't say which ministry she was bidding through. Surely, that wasn't what caused all this. But then again, what else could it have been? Mike would have to help him out of this mess.

He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He stood under the water for several minutes before stepping out and toweling himself dry. Dressed in shorts only, he headed for the kitchen. Like Ingrid, he had no appetite and was happy to grab one of the four remaining beers from his fridge, and flop down in front of the television. He must have surfed around the dial more than twice before realizing there was nothing worth watching. He had no current TV Guide and finally gave up and turned off the set.

He got up and wandered back and forth from room to room. His mind was full of questions without answers. Both he and Ingrid had been up early this morning in order for her to catch the first ferry. She had refused to let him go with her, and now he was glad he hadn't. He headed for the bedroom and crawled into the bed and tried to go to sleep. It was hopeless.

He tossed and turned and finally clicked on the radio, looking for a FM station that would sooth his rattled nerves. Sometime near midnight he finally drifted off to a fitful sleep.

When he awoke in the morning, he briefly thought of calling Ingrid, but decided against it. He had no new information that would change her mind. It was Saturday morning. If he didn't hear from Mike soon, he would assume he was away for the weekend. That meant no help until next week at the earliest.

He forced himself to have a bagel and some orange juice. He would have to go shopping for fresh food sometime today, but not right now. He wandered around the apartment for a while, then decided to go for a run. He pulled on his running shorts, t-shirt and shoes, stuffed a ten dollar bill and his key into the waistband pocket, and headed out toward the seawall.

Steve pushed himself mercilessly, trying to expunge the toxins he had gathered in the last few hours. He finally stopped running when he neared exhaustion. The sweat pouring from his pores and his breath coming in spasms, he looked around and realized he was at the other end of the village. He was several kilometers from his apartment, and faced a long trek back.

He began walking back the way he came, gradually cooling down and recovering. He remembered the bill he had tucked in his shorts' pocket, turned up the nearest connector to Marine Drive, and found a small outdoor café. He ordered coffee and Danish, relaxing for a few minutes. The extra exertion of the run seemed to clear his head.

He had convinced himself that Mike Saggert was his best solution to resolving the problem with Ingrid. In fact, it was the only solution he could think of. Ingrid had at least left a crack in the door open with her parting shot ... "Maybe when I calm down in a week or two ... maybe ..." It was a slim hope, but the only thread he had to hold on to.

One thing he was certain of beyond all doubt, he loved her. He had found that deep, unshakeable, romantic love he had longed for. The thought of losing it ... losing her, was more than he could handle. He understood what it meant now. It wasn't all joy and happiness. There was pain and fear as well. But it was the proof he had been searching for.

-0-

Ingrid tried to finish the formal resubmission of her bid that same Saturday morning. It wasn't going very well. She couldn't concentrate and after an hour of little progress, she abandoned the effort for later in the day. She retreated to the kitchen for a "food fix," the solution to all her problems she thought. A couple of heat-and-serve English Muffins in the toaster, slather on some butter and jam and she would feel better. She reheated the tea in the microwave and sat at the kitchen table wondering what to do with herself today.

She was a basket case. She couldn't put two thoughts together in an orderly fashion to save her life.

"You've done it this time, girl. You've really done it. You've just thrown away the best thing in your life, and you don't know how to fix it. Was it that unforgivable or just your big, bloody ego getting in the way the way of common sense? After all, what had he tried to do?

"Even if he was guilty as charged, he'd tried to help you, not hurt you. Sure, maybe it wasn't what you wanted him to do, but he wasn't trying to hurt you," she told herself over and over again.

"And what if he was innocent? What if he hadn't done anything? What if it was all a big misunderstanding? What then?"

She decided to go for a walk to clear her head. The seawall was only a couple of blocks and a stroll across the playground away. She slipped on her running shoes, picked up her keys and headed out the front door. She tried desperately not to think about the last few hours. She tried to concentrate on the contract revisions, and what she had scheduled to do this coming week.

"Shit!" she exclaimed to no one in particular. "I've got a meeting with Steve and Tony on Wednesday to cover the next phases of the renovation. How the hell am I going to get out of that?" she asked herself.

"I'd better delay the meeting," she thought. "I'll call Tony and ask him to call Steve. I'll put if off until the week after. I'll tell him I'm not prepared." It wasn't much of a plan, but it at least something.