CHAPTER 1
Stressed-out from working under pressure in marketing at Roebuck Industries for nine years, the last two as a marketing director, Louise Flint resigned, and signed in to a health resort after leaving.
During idle chat, one of her therapists suggested it was time she should marry.
Louise sighed. She'd often thought she should do that before her ovaries calcified but then a new crisis would hit and she'd not have time to focus on personal fundamentals. But this time was different... she'd escaped the grind and high-risk burnout.
Men were not unknown to Louise. Now thirty-two, she'd been sexually active since she was nineteen and usually had enjoyed 'messing about'. The thought of finding a mate had suddenly been firmly implanted in her mind. She knew it would be not easy to find a good mate but she ought to be able to pull it off. So when Louise's three very expensive weeks of being mollycoddled ended, she walked away into what she hoped would be her new life.
Regrettably it seemed little had changed.
The blue-eyed and tall blonde was still alone, her parents these days living in Hawaii and her married brother lived in England and her sister worked as a ski instructor in Austria. It suddenly hit Louise she knew little about real life, that her life had revolved round corporate life. Where would her husband come from? The only men she associated with to any real degree where work colleagues, clients and males at the golf driving range and her tennis club.
She sighed. The problem was she had no plan but at least she now appeared more relaxed and de-stressed. That was a big plus.
It was mid-afternoon and she no longer possessed an apartment, having signed over the remainder of her lease before going into the health farm.
Gregan near where the 'health farm' was located was a small, pleasant town. She thought she should book into a hotel and attempt to plan her future. She yawned and thought how boring and went into a café for coffee, picking up the morning newspaper. The front page had a picture of three abandoned kittens and the stories were about mayhem from round the world apart from the lead story that featured complaints about the town water supply, with one critic describing it as 'reminiscent of cat's pee."
Obviously Gregan was big into cats, kittens and mayhem, she surmised, aware that was a jaundiced view and wondered how one became an authority on what cat's pee really tasted like, Louise thought she would only effect change to her personal life if she forced it and one way to help was to change her environment. She decided a beach near LA rather appealed. She picked up her hand luggage and pulled her big travel bag on wheels behind her, all her other possessions being in storage, and flagged down a cab. The cabbie put her things in the trunk and asked where did she wish to go.
"To the airport. I wish to fly to California."
"No from here you won't," he said, explaining that the nearest regional airport was eighty-five miles away.
"That's ridiculous."
"I don't locate airports ma'am."
"Well I'll drive to LA. Please take me to the most reputable pre-own car sales place in town."
The cabbie said there were all very similar.
She sighed and asked where would he go to buy a car for his wife? He said without hesitation, "Five Star Motors."
Louise paid the modest fare, tripled it with the tip and went into the showroom of Five Star Motors and decided the guy leering at her looked shifty.
"I'd like to deal with a female salesperson,"
He sighed and said they had none but the boss's wife was familiar with the inventory.
"Please call her."
"Gwen," he yelled and a motherly looking woman came from the office marked accountant.
Mrs Marks said she really didn't sell cars but guessed Louise wanted to buy from a woman. "You may test drive any of our vehicles."
"That won't be necessary Mrs Marks because I don't know how to test a vehicle but I can drive. For the past nine years I've always had a company vehicle. I trust you to sell me the best-valued and most reliable vehicle you have on this floor, but not those sporty things."
Louise drove off in a midnight blue metallic Buick LaCrosse CX, nine months old, with only 4800 miles on the clock. The previous owner, a widow, had traded in for a small hybrid sedan.
Two evenings later, still well away from Los Angeles, Louise asked herself why the hell was she going to California? Everyone she knew reckoned it must be a really pig of a place to live, although obviously they weren't from LA. She had no answer, realizing she was already in a new environment. She turned off the Interstate and entered the charming looking small city of Pickleford
"It's pretty," Louise said aloud, looking at the tree-lined streets. "A pity about the name of the place."
She booked into the largest hotel in town, having noted it had a heated swimming pool and two tennis courts. She took a small suite and was about to say two nights but changed and said for a week.
After showering and a cool drink Louise dressed in a white top and white shorts and white sneakers and went down and hired a racquet and a couple of balls hoping to find someone who'd invite her into a game.
Only a guy about fifty was there, serving from a big bucket of balls and sweating like a pig.
"Hi."
"Good evening."
"Want a couple of games?"
He was balding and hairy and she though ugh but then playing against him was preferable to hitting against the volley board.
"Okay, I'm Louise Flint."
"Hi Louise. I'm Harold Guest," he said, Louise recognizing the tone used by people who considered themselves big shots.
She hadn't warmed up and was a little tired from driving all day. His first serve almost took off her ear. She couldn't reach the second and third and she returned the next that she called was out but he ignored that and slammed it back out of her reach.
"You looked as if you could play tennis," he said, sounding rather dissatisfied.
"I can but you caught me by surprise. I'm rather tired having been driving all day."
"Excused, excuses," he said, not unpleasantly and she said she'd try to lift her game, and did so.
Louise was 0-30 down after two serves but felt she was in the groove, those first balls directed into the net.
"Come on Louise baby," he smiled.
Right asshole, she thought and sent down a sizzler, knocking the racquet from Harold's hand.
"Jesus," he said. "Was that a fluke?"
"No, my father was a tennis pro and trainer."
She finished up annihilating Harold 40-0, 30-40, 40-0, 30-40, 40-15 after running him around the court.
"I better quit while I'm ahead," she grinned.
"Asshole," he said panting and laughing. "You conned me. Look, meet me for drinks and I'll take you to dinner. I'm here to try out the restaurant. My company took over this hotel yesterday as a going-concern. The previous owning company went bust but fortunately for us most hotel employees have stayed on. You're a woman, you might like to tell me what needs changing."
"The first thing is to get rid of those orange feature walls; women don't like orange."
Harold looked at Louise with interest. "That's exactly what my wife told me this morning. She'll be joining us for dinner, um I mean if you accept."
