All I Ever Wanted(36)

“Oy, mates!” Fleur said, her British having unraveled from upper crust to Cockney.

“Hi!” I called as they approached. Fleur made the introductions. As Ian shook Mark’s hand, he glanced over at me. That’s right, Ian. Me, emotional diarrhea, DMV. Yep, that’s him.

Five minutes later, we were off, down the trail and into the woods. The line was clearly ranked. First went Mark, Muriel and Charles, followed by Anna and Bill. Then came the rest of us in a somewhat tangled knot…Fred, Damien, Pete, Leila, Fleur, Ian and yours truly. Karen had been excused, claiming to have sprained her ankle while watching television last night.

“So, Fleur, how do you know the good doctor here?” I asked, glancing over at her.

“We met through Tony Blair,” she said, referring to her foul-tempered and obese Jack Russell terrier. “He ate something a bit off, yeah, and wasn’t his chippy self.”

“Huh,” I said, shooting Ian a look. Dang. I really, really wished I’d thought of something other than “The dog ate my paper.” Ah, well. Water under the bridge.

The trail began as a fairly wide and lovely path through the woods. Little stencils of a deer falling from an incline were painted on a tree every fifty feet or so to mark the path. As the trail grew steeper, it also became more narrow. Our group began to string out.

It was then that my stomach emitted the most astonishing gurgle. Squeerrrllllerrrggghhh… I jumped at the sound. What the heck? I’d eaten lunch…well, I had a couple of carrots, not wanting to feed the food baby anything fatty when Dr. Duncan’s Cleanse ’n Purge had worked so… Squeerrrllllerrrggghh.

Oh, dear. A slight cramp bit into my left side, and I flinched. Oh, no.

“Hungry?” Freddie asked.

“Um…no,” I said. Not a lie. “I’m fine.” Gluuuurrrrggggghhh. I tried to clamp my stomach muscles down on the sound. It didn’t work. Goooorrrrggghhh. God, it was loud! Ian gave me a look, but said nothing.

Just then, Charles deVeers decided he had to have more time with me. “Callie!” he called, turning around to wave. “Join us up front and chat a bit!”

“Would love to!” I called back. Gluuuurrrrggggghhh. “Excuse me, guys. Duty calls.”

Great. Not only was my stomach making Exorcist- type noises, but I had to trot up the path thirty feet or so to join the big guns, Bowie leaping at my side. And my biking shorts were making themselves known to me. The thing about clothes made from plastic bags…they don’t breathe that well, as you might imagine. They smother, and right now, they were asphyxiating my thighs. Swatting at the gnats that danced around my head, I tried not to inhale any as I panted.

“How’s everyone up here?” I gasped when I reached the front of our line. “Aren’t these woods gorgeous, Mr. deVeers?”

“I told you to call me Charles,” he reminded me, grinning. He might’ve been seventy or so, but the man hadn’t broken a sweat. Neither had his daughter, but then again, I suspected she was half reptile. “By the way,” he added, “I loved your idea for the new logo.” Goodbye, long silly name with floating plastic bag, hello simple, stylish initials.

“I’m so glad,” I said, not daring to look at Muriel.

“Callie, I was telling Charles about the ad campaign we put together for that ski resort last year,” Mark said. He gave me a little grimace, which I read clearly. He needed help buttering up the client, and no one could pitch woo the way I could.

I smiled at Charles. “Oh, that was a great time, let me tell you, Charles.” Wwwweeerrrrrggghhh. I quickly burst into laughter to cover the gurgling slosh of my stomach. Was that one over? Apparently not. Boooorrr… I talked over it, hoping no one else noticed as our feet crunched along. “Well, we like to know our products, of course, so Mark and I went up there to get the lay of the land. Now, Mark here, he grew up on skis. Me? No.”

“Uh-oh,” Charles said.

“I love to ski,” Muriel said. “Dad, we should go to Utah again.”

“That would be fun, honey. Go on, Callie,” Charles said to me. Muriel’s mouth tightened.

Wwwwweeerrrrrgggghhh.

“Are you hungry, dear?” Charles asked, striding manfully along.

“Oh, no! Well, I skipped lunch. Didn’t want to cramp up on this lovely hike. But I’m fine!” I said, beaming, trying to suck in enough oxygen at the same time. I reached down to pet my dog, hoping the motion would somehow assuage the alien life force in my belly. Another cramp lanced through my side, making me gasp. I coughed to cover. “Anyway, Mark told me not to worry, just go up the mountain with Skip, the owner of the resort. It wasn’t really about skiing.” I gave Mark a look. “So he said, right, Mark?”

“I’m still sorry,” Mark answered, smiling at me.

I’d worked with Mark long enough to understand his signals. He needed me to work the crowd, and work it I did. I continued with the story, which involved me, too terrified to get off the ski lift, clutching Skip so that he couldn’t get off, either, riding back down the hill, then up once more, finally tangling skis with Skip, causing him to fall about ten feet onto hard-packed snow. The ski patrol had to come not only for their fallen boss, but to give me a ride down, since I could neither ski nor walk in those boots.

“Did you get the account?” Charles asked, smiling at me.