Becky considered her unlikely situation as she walked down the hall to meet for the first time ever with Mrs. Olivia Blake, the owner of the Centerfield Resort and Country Club. Becky had recently secured the position of assistant marketing director for Centerfield. It was her hope she would retain that title after her meeting with Mrs. Blake.
Upon graduating from State University summa cum laude, Becky had searched for almost two years to find a position in her chosen field. During that time, she had waited tables, washed dishes and tended bar in order to pay her bills. She had steadfastly refused to give up on her dream of a career in marketing.
The previous spring she had learned of an opening in marketing at Centerfield. It was an entry level position, but Becky felt certain hard work and her marketing knowledge would allow her to climb the corporate ladder. After three interviews, she had been offered a position, which she quickly accepted.
Becky had only been working for Centerfield just over two months when Martha Higgins, Becky's immediate superior, managed to mishandle a bundle of her son's Fourth of July fireworks and lost part of her hand, along with her desire to remain in the labor force. Becky had been promoted to fill her position.
In early August, William Bassett, the assistant marketing director, was arrested for a multiplicity of offenses, not the least of which was child pornography. A few days after Bassett's arrest, Becky was appointed the new assistant marketing director!
The previous afternoon, Becky had been informed that the owner of the resort wanted to meet with her the following day. Becky had managed very little sleep that night as she pondered how to properly impress her boss, who happened to be one of the wealthiest women in the state.
Becky had seen Mrs. Blake's picture in newspapers and on the internet many times, but she wasn't prepared for the power and charm the woman exuded when she was ushered into the office.
"Thank you for coming, Miss Carson. Would you like something to drink?" asked Mrs. Olivia Blake.
When Becky politely declined, Mrs. Blake pointed to a large chair near her desk and asked her to sit. Becky was surprised, as well as a bit flummoxed by the wealthy woman's friendly demeanor, but didn't allow her confusion to show as she smiled and took her seat.
"You must be wondering why I've asked you here today. No one would blame you for being more than a little curious, Miss Carson. I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'll lay everything out right now. I want you to marry my son," stated the older woman with no preliminary explanations.
Of all the topics Becky considered likely at her meeting with Mrs. Blake, being asked to marry her son had never been on the table, or even in the room. Becky considered her response while Olivia Blake watched her closely.
"Mrs. Blake, I'm flattered that you would consider me as possible daughter-in-law material, but I don't even know what your son looks like. I've never even met him, so marriage to him would not appear likely at this time."
"Are you in a relationship at present? Is there a special someone in your life?" asked Olivia Blake.
"I don't see how that matters," replied Becky carefully. "As I stated, I do not know your son. The last I knew, marriages are not arranged in the United States. I may seem a bit old fashioned, but I like to be wined and dined by a suitor. At the bare minimum, I would expect the opportunity to look him over and speak with him in private."
"We don't really have time for those formalities," replied the older woman with a weak smile. "There are important reasons why my son must be married by Sunday, and I believe you to be an excellent match."
"Mrs. Blake, I know you are not trying to be insulting, but you're making me feel like a brood mare or something. You appear to think I would make a good mate for your son, but you've left out a great deal of detail.
"Why isn't he here to speak for himself? Why me? Why would the son of a very wealthy woman be in a position where his mother is selecting his spouse? These are a few questions which come to mind immediately," explained Becky. "Finally, why would you ever expect me to agree to such an unusual proposal?"
"Ah! Now we're negotiating," retorted Olivia Blake with a smile. "I'm prepared to offer you half ownership in this resort. I will sign it over to you and my son as soon as you complete your nuptials."
"Seriously?" stuttered Becky in amazement. "The resort must be worth at least twenty million dollars. That offer makes no sense."
"It was recently appraised at twenty four million six hundred and thirty thousand dollars," stated Mrs. Blake. "Your half would have a value of over twelve million. That's a rather substantial dowry, don't you think?"
"I admit that it's a nice round number," replied Becky sardonically. "There's a great deal you're not telling me. Who would own the other half of the resort? Exactly what would be expected of me if I were to become your son's wife? How could a man as wealthy as your son not be capable of finding a wife on his own? Is he deformed, a druggie, mentally ill, terminally ill, or perhaps gay? Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"My son is exceptionally good looking, very fit, extremely bright, disease free and as straight as they come," declared Olivia Blake proudly as she unsuccessfully tried to repress a smile. "I understand your doubts, but I promise you will find nothing wrong with him physically. In fact, a young woman like you should be quite pleased with his prowess."
Becky felt her face turn warm as she considered the other woman's statement. She was actually offering Becky the perfect opportunity to extricate herself from the mess her life had become.
"This is Wednesday. There's no way I can get my family and friends here before your Sunday deadline. It's simply impossible and I'd never get married without my parents and sisters," insisted Becky. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline."
"I can have a private jet pick your family up in Springville tomorrow afternoon. They would be here by late in the evening Thursday, which would be in plenty of time for a Saturday afternoon ceremony," reasoned Olivia Blake.
"I have three college girlfriends who would..." began Becky.
"They'll each receive a first class ticket to fly here from their local airport," interrupted the woman who was becoming increasingly likely to be Becky's mother-in-law.
"If I should marry your son, I might stop him from seeing you, or the rest of your family. You know how daughters-in-law are. Doesn't that worry you?" asked Becky. "You may as well know I'm less than fond of your skanky daughter."
"I didn't know that," replied the older woman with a brief grimace at Becky's description of her daughter. "However, I didn't make this proposition on a whim. You came very highly recommended as a woman of scruples and strong family ties. I'm sure you'd encourage my son to spend time with his wealthy and generous mother."
"If you think you'll be able to bribe me into allowing Junior to visit you, you're probably right," conceded Becky as she reached her decision. "I'll probably accept your offer once I have a lawyer go over the documents and determine everything is on the up and up. I must seem like a pretty despicable person to you now, but I have reasons for accepting your proposal, twelve million of them."
"My dear, I have nothing but admiration for your common sense, as well as more than a little envy of your beauty. We'll get along famously. I'm certain of that. Now that we're almost family, please call me Olivia. May I call you Rebecca?"
"I prefer to be called Becky, if you don't mind, Olivia. I've always been called Becky and that's what I answer to," replied Becky with a smile as she firmly shook the offered hand of Olivia.
Becky was pretty much in a daze as she walked back to her office. Just as she sat down, Beverly Wentworth, her immediately superior and the current marketing director entered her office.
"Do you still have a job, Becky?" demanded Beverly with an evil grin. "You could have at least dressed better for a meeting with the boss. Did she mention your attire? How about your job performance? I didn't want to do it, but she asked me point blank how you were working out, so I had to tell her how you mishandled the Martins last week."
"Olivia seemed fine with the way I dressed. She never mentioned it, or the Martins," replied Becky meekly.
"Olivia?" repeated Beverly. "Are you insane? If she heard you use her first name like that, you'd be looking for a new job before you finished your sentence."
Becky was slowly returning to reality when Beverly made her last statement. It dawned on her that in a few days she would be an owner of the resort. Beverly's career would be in her hands.
"Why don't you fuck off, Beverly? You're really quite annoying. You should know that successful managers and owners never like ass kissers, or squealers. Piss off. I have to make plans."
"That's it!" declared Beverly. "I'm going to report your insubordination to Mrs. Blake. You may as well start packing your things. You won't be working for me any longer!"
"Yeah," agreed Becky. "You're right about that. Give it your best shot, Bitch."
After Beverly stormed out of her office, Becky began to worry that she had acted rashly. What if Olivia was toying with her, or playing some elaborate practical joke? She'd find out soon enough since Beverly was practically sprinting toward Olivia's office.
