Ride the Rainbow Home (15 page)

"Now where's that team spirit we expect of our people?" Meg shuddered. Monty was really laying it on thick this time. "You are a team player, aren't you?"

Meg sighed. "Yes, Monty, of course I'm a team player, but—"

"No buts," Monty said, interrupting again. "You are or you aren't. Now, are we going to see you back in time to talk to AeroTech next Monday?"

Meg thought of the flying hawks, the thunderbirds that soared off Lucy's rug, the freedom of wide-open spaces. She thought of Jim and the class reunion Saturday. "No," she said quietly. "I'll call you when I get back into town, around mid-August as planned."

She waited, wondering what he would say next. "You've let me down, Meg," he said after a moment. There was an ugly underside to his tone. "Call me if you change your mind." The line went dead.

Meg put the phone down and sat heavily on a kitchen stool. The small confrontation had already sapped her energy. Why did she feel guilty over asserting her right to take off time she had earned? How could Monty make her feel bad when his own behavior was so outrageous? As she sat there fuming, she realized this was one of the management practices she counseled other businesses against. One had to value one's people to get the best work from them—to appreciate their skills and allow them freedom to make choices. If Monty couldn't practice these skills in his own business, no wonder he was having trouble adjusting to the concepts of team management and employee empowerment!

She hesitated. Monty had sounded so angry, and she couldn't afford to lose this job, could she? Should she call him back? Apologize? Promise she'd be there this weekend? She stood. "No!" she said aloud. The word ringing through the empty kitchen made her feel better. "If he's willing to fire me over this, let him. It will be the worst mistake he's ever made!"

"Fire you?" Sally asked as she came through the sliding door. "What on earth happened?"

"Monty's a creep," Meg said in frustration, then detailed the story while she helped Sally bring the children inside.

"I can't believe he'd really fire you over taking your earned vacation when he said you could," Sally said as she finished.

"I can't either, but it's hard to tell with Monty. He can get fairly whimsical with his decision-making."

Sally paused for a moment. She seemed to be pondering an idea. "Meg, have you ever considered getting away from Monty and starting your own consulting practice?''

Meg groaned. "Not you too. Jim was trying to talk me into that this weekend."

Sally nodded as if that sounded perfectly logical. "I suppose we both have a stake in it. If you started your own business, you could work from here. Then we'd all be together again."

Meg shook her head. "Out of the question, Sal. If I had what it takes to start my own business, which I very much doubt, I certainly couldn't do it out of Rainbow Rock. The nearest clients are four hours away in Phoenix. It wouldn't make sense to work here."

"Just a thought," Sally said. "Oh, there goes Serena again!" She hurried off, content to change the subject. But Meg couldn't let it drop. Through the rest of the afternoon she pondered her short chat with Monty and all that it might portend. If she left Montgomery Adams, could she make it on her own? And if she could, was there a way of moving her business closer to Rainbow Rock? Would she even want to? Or would that just be setting herself up for a business failure, not to mention a heartbreak, later?

By noon the next day Meg's restlessness was filling Sally's small house, making everyone around her jumpy. "You need to go spend some money on yourself," Sally declared as they finished lunch. "Help me get the kids down for their naps, then I'll wash up the dishes and you can drive into Holbrook and look around. Stop in at Babbitt’s,” she said, referring to one of the local dry goods stores. “Maybe buy yourself something new to wear to the reunion Saturday."

"No thanks," Meg said, content to mope. "Besides, there's no place to shop in Holbrook. Babbitt’s has its place, but--"

"Then just get out of here!" Sally said, her smile more friendly than her words. "You're driving me nuts, girl!"

"Okay, okay," Meg grumbled. Then she patted Sally's shoulder. "Thanks, Sal. I realize I'm not very good company just now."

"I'll bet you'd be better company if Jim were here." Sally's eyes spoke much that she left unsaid.

"Maybe," Meg answered, noncommittal. Then suddenly she needed to get out, get away, get some thinking done. “I believe I will make that trip into Holbrook after all. Can you put the kids down by yourself?"

Sally's brows went up. She hadn't missed the sudden change in Meg's mood, but she flowed with it. "No problem. Go. Enjoy."

Meg was out of the house and on the highway within minutes. She hadn't bothered to tell Sally that she'd bought a new dress for the reunion before she left Walnut Creek. It wasn't the shopping that was drawing her to Holbrook. It was the chance to get away, to do some serious thinking.

She began her methodical analysis as she drove. She knew her discontent with Montgomery Adams went much deeper than she'd first thought. She was beginning to recognize that she would never be content working for Monty again, not under the present unstated rules. Still, the idea of starting her own consulting practice was terrifying. Did she know enough about the business end? The advertising and scheduling? The hiring and training? What about accounting and taxes? She shuddered. No, she wasn't ready for that.

Maybe the answer was to find another job, with a different company. There had been periodic overtures throughout the last few years, including some from major training vendors. Maybe that was the answer to the question. Maybe she could even work out of Phoenix. But did she want to? That was the question. There was no prettier locale than her home in the East Bay, and no place more miserable in July and August, than the Valley of the sun.

Feeling more frustrated than she had when she left, she pulled up near the corner of Navajo and Hopi, yanked on the emergency brake, locked her car out of habit, and then started wandering up the sidewalk, looking for a dress shop or boutique.

"Meg! Nice to see you!"

Meg looked up, startled. She'd been so intent on her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the tall blond man until she'd practically bumped into him. When she did notice him, her tension eased. "Hi, Kurt. What brings you into Holbrook?"

"About half a ton of animal feed, but it's all loaded up now. How about I buy you lunch?"

"No thanks. I've eaten," Meg answered, and then realized how much she'd enjoy the company. "I wouldn't mind a cold drink, though."

"You've got it." Kurt doffed his cowboy hat and waved her through the open door of the Kachina Cafe, where a perky waitress in a checkered apron showed them to a table and brought menus. Kurt seated Meg at one side and himself on the other. "Maybe you'd like some dessert?"

"No, thank you," Meg said amiably, "but go ahead and eat if you're hungry." She perused the menu. "Milk shakes! Kurt, they have real malted milk shakes! It's been a long time since I've had the real thing, not those soft- freeze imitations you get most places now."

"These are as real as they come," Kurt said, apparently amused by her enthusiasm.

Meg bubbled with childlike delight. "I'll have one. A big one. Make it strawberry."

Kurt put down his menu and signaled the teenager who'd shown them in. He ordered the rancher's lunch for himself and an extra-large strawberry malt for Meg. The waitress hustled away and started preparing Meg's drink. A little embarrassed at her display over a strawberry malt, Meg found herself with nothing to say. She cleared her throat. "So tell me about yourself, Kurt. What is it you do besides farming?''

"I'd rather hear about you and Jim," Kurt responded. "He keeps insisting there's nothing going on between you two, but I've never seen him invite a woman to church before, or bring her to our place."

Meg stifled a groan. "So Joan tells me."

"Ah, I see the family has already gotten to you." Meg nodded. "Did Joan mention that he never takes anyone onto the reservation with him either? Usually not even family."

Meg's eyes widened. "Really? No, she didn't mention that."

"Thought you'd want to know."

"Interesting. Thanks, Kurt." She paused, then remembered that she'd been trying to coax Kurt to talk about himself. "But back to you. You work on the pig farm, but your degree was in... what?''

"Video production," Kurt said as his large bowl of thick beef stew, served with a fist-sized loaf of whole-wheat bread and a pickle spear, arrived.

"Ah, I remember." Meg paused to taste her malt, eating the thick concoction with a spoon. It was every bit as good as she'd remembered. "Jim said you shoot a wedding now and then."

"Right, a wedding here, a birthday there. It's hard to get a video business off the ground in Rainbow Rock."

"I can imagine." She'd just been thinking the same thing about management consulting. "So what would you like to do? If there was enough business here to do it, I mean."

"Educational video," Kurt answered without skipping a bite. "It was my primary interest in school."

"You mean like kids' programs?" Meg asked.

"Yeah, maybe," Kurt answered, "but my real interest was in video training for businesses and government agencies. My senior project was a short piece on employee hiring practices."

"Really." Meg put her spoon down. "Tell me about it."

Half an hour later, Meg still sat fascinated, asking questions and listening to Kurt's answers as her malt melted in its glass. "And this friend of yours in Phoenix, the one who's considering selling his studio . . . How much did you say he wants for it?"

Kurt named a figure that made Meg whistle, then hurried on, "I've got more than half that saved, and I already have two good-quality super VHS cameras and all the tripods, lights, and light poles. A top-quality Betacam comes with the deal, plus the whole editing bay, so it would really give me everything I'd need to go into full-scale production."

"Why don't you?"

Kurt smiled at her enthusiasm. "Well, there are a few things between here and there. To begin with, there's the other half of the money. I'm good for it, and I'm sure I can borrow it, but if the deals don't come in quickly enough to pay off the debt, I’ll lose it all." He shrugged. "Then too, there's the question of trying to set up shop in Rainbow Rock. If I'm dealing with video, rather than live training, I don't have to be in the population centers because I can market by mail, but I still wonder whether I'd have everything here that I'd need to support the business."

"I hear that," Meg agreed, absently toying with her straw. She'd been thinking the same thing herself only an hour ago.

"Mostly," Kurt went on, "what I'm lacking is the expertise. I'm good at camera angles, a great editor, sharp with artsy fades and folds and such as that, and I can spot a stray slide when it whirs by a light speed, but I don't have the content to put into the programs. I enjoy shooting and editing educational stuff, but I need someone to organize the material, write the scripts, and tell me what's hot in the training market."

"Someone like me," Meg said, speaking almost to herself. She had only recently refinanced her condo and she knew almost to the penny how much equity she had. That, plus her personal savings, would be more than enough to buy half of Kurt's business and finance the first several months of production. They could set up the studio in Rainbow Rock and sell by mail order out of the local post office. And she already had an extensive client list. They could—

"Pardon me? What did you say?" Kurt's face reflected the same thunderstruck look Meg must have been wearing.

"Ever thought of taking on a partner?" she asked, and then she slowly began to outline the thoughts that were racing through her mind. Kurt pulled out a pen and began sketching on his paper napkin. By mid-afternoon they had used eight napkins and Meg had ordered another malt, but they had the rough plan for a viable business in video training, based out of Rainbow Rock. "You realize this is all a pipe dream," Meg warned as they finally left the cafe. "The odds are slim that anything can come of this."

"It's worth a little investigating, don't you think?"

"I thought so or I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place. Listen, Kurt, don't mention this to Jim, okay? I mean, if it doesn't work out—"

"I get it. You don't want to get his hopes up."

Meg nodded. "Or mine either."

"Okay, it's our secret."

"I'll make some of those phone calls we talked about tonight," Meg said. "And you call your friend in Phoenix. See if he's serious about selling and whether he'd consider coming down on that figure."

"Okay. Shall we meet again tomorrow?"

"Say one o'clock? Right here at the Kachina Cafe."

"Sounds good," Kurt agreed. "Come hungry. I'll buy you lunch."

"I'd like that," Meg said, offering Kurt her hand.

He surprised her by bowing at the waist and kissing it, a perfect picture of chivalry. "Have a good evening, pretty lady," he said, and then shook his head. "Wow, my brother is a lucky cuss."

Meg colored at the compliment, but she was beginning to think she might be a little bit lucky too.