§ § § -- July 29, 2000
Leslie, in the study at the main house, had just finished setting up Jeff Lippert with a vacationing female attorney from Michigan and found a quiet, homespun Iowa girl for Adam Baines when Roarke came in from whatever he had been doing. She glanced up for a second, then returned her attention to the notes she was keeping of how Myeko's fantasy (and for that matter, those of all the men she had brought here) was progressing. Roarke came in and stopped long enough to watch her jotting down her thoughts before asking, "Are you staying for lunch?"
"No, I'm meeting Myeko in town," Leslie said briskly, gathering her things together and popping out of the chair. "Let Mariki know so she doesn't go all nuts over my not being there, thanks." She strode around him and out the door before he could respond. Maybe, she thought, it'll give him a chance to calm down if I stay out of his way until I absolutely can't avoid it any longer. Not only that, but Leslie had had to handle a couple of unexpected problems just after introducing Myeko to Jason Wellman, and had quickly arranged to meet her and three of their other friends for lunch at their favorite café in Amberville before rushing off. She was looking forward to the progress report.
She was the last to arrive; Myeko, Camille, Maureen and Lauren were already waiting at their usual table, and Myeko had the expression of someone bursting with secrets while the others just looked impatient. Lauren spotted Leslie first. "It's about time you got here," she said as Leslie slipped into the last empty spot. "Myeko wouldn't talk till you showed up, and we've been dying to find out how her fantasy's been going."
"Yeah, so come on, Sensei, spill the beans," Camille ordered good-naturedly.
Myeko grinned a little ruefully and shook her head. "For starters, you can cross three more off the list, Leslie," she said. "Dan Cole, that guy from Rhode Island, still has a torch for his ex-wife. He's nuts about her, and if I were you, I'd get hold of her and get her out here so they can maybe patch things up. And then that sergeant in the Air Force, Rick? He's about to be deployed overseas for an extended period. Two years, I think he said. The last thing I need is to try to maintain another long-distance romance."
"Okay," Leslie said, hastily scrawling notations, "but you lost me somewhere. I left you with Jason. What happened to him?"
Myeko aimed her smirk at all four of her friends. "Oh, now, this is the good part—I was saving this for last. Almost from the moment you left, Leslie, and I got a good look at Jason Wellman, I thought he looked familiar, like I'd seen him around somewhere. I didn't mention it, though, I just started up a conversation. Man, he really seemed like The One. He was nice, great personality, cute face, nice body, the works. I could just see him in a hard hat, and it was kind of getting me worked up." She grinned at the various reactions of the others: Camille and Lauren snickered; Maureen rolled her eyes and Leslie chuckled softly, shaking her head.
"Then how come you aren't having lunch with him instead of us?" Maureen asked.
"Because he started talking about his ex-wife too, but not the way poor Dan Cole was talking about his. Jason sounded really proud of himself, like he'd accomplished some major achievement in life or something. He was telling me how well-off he's been getting with all these lucrative construction contracts his company's been getting, and that his ex wasn't going to see one red cent of it, and he was making her pay through the nose for what she did to him—whatever it was, exactly—and so on and so on. All I could think was, Boy, am I glad I'm not your poor ex-wife. And then he said, 'She thinks she's so smart, she wanted to go back to school and get a degree and become a nurse…and no wife of mine works. She stays home and raises the boys.' Which tipped me off that he apparently has at least two sons, and that's when it finally hit me where I'd seen him before. He was on America's Most Wanted—he's a deadbeat dad and he owes his ex-wife and his sons about seventy thousand dollars in backed-up alimony."
"Whoa!" blurted Camille, and Leslie, Lauren and Maureen all gasped.
"Did you turn him in?" Maureen demanded urgently.
"Right there in front of him and about three hundred other people? He'd have taken off and been gone from this island before you could say squat," scoffed Myeko. "I just played dumb and went along with everything he was saying. I started telling him about my kids, and he thought they sounded cute and so on, and then I said I was getting kind of hungry. He said he was too, but he already had plans for lunch, so he asked me to meet him at his bungalow at about one-thirty. Leslie, you should know which one he's staying in."
Leslie nodded. "I sure do," she said. "He'll get visitors at one-thirty all right, but not you. Don't go near him again, Myeko."
"Good advice," Lauren seconded. "Hey, maybe you'll be famous for helping catch a wanted man. Heck, maybe you'll even get some reward money." They all laughed.
Leslie sat up. "Myeko, after lunch I'll take you to the police station and we'll give the constables what they need to arrest Jason Wellman and hold him for deportation. I think you pulled that off perfectly—gave the guy a false sense of security so he thinks he's safe by hiding out on Fantasy Island—and that'll make it much easier to get him into custody. Great job."
Myeko shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Well, it's nice to know I've done my good deed for the day…but my fantasy hasn't progressed too far. All I've done so far is eliminate candidates. I think I'm down to three now—those two Asian guys and that accountant."
"Well, it's up to you whatever you want to do," said Leslie, settling back and watching her expectantly.
"Well, I'm not giving up now," Myeko said determinedly. "I thought, with all these other guys out of the running already, I'd better put the two Asians back into the race. But before I go that route, I guess I need to meet the other one. Who was he again?"
"Philip Holliday," Leslie said. "An accountant from California."
Lauren, Camille and Maureen looked at one another; Myeko's expression became dubious. "An accountant? I know you pointed him out to me at the pool this morning, but would you mind refreshing my memory as to what he looked like?"
"Well, he had his back to us, so we didn't really see him," Leslie said, choosing her words with care, "but he's a little underweight, I know that. Light-brown hair, I think. Poor guy, I felt really sorry for him. He's so average-looking, even I can't remember just what he looks like, and that's part of my job in the course of granting your fantasy."
"A wallflower," Lauren said. "Wow, Myeko, maybe you shouldn't discount those two Asian guys out of hand like that. How come you didn't want to meet them?"
"Toki," said Myeko, and the others nodded.
"Well, then," Camille said, "first you and Leslie have that Jason guy arrested, and then you go meet this Philip somebody. Hey, you never know, he might surprise you."
"Right," said Leslie. "I think people worry too much about looks over personality when they're looking for a significant other. Sometimes the most dishwater-bland types in looks are the nicest, most wonderful people you could ever hope to meet. Give him a chance, Myeko, and see what happens. Then nobody can ever say you didn't try."
Myeko nodded, looking pensive. "Okay, I'll give it a shot, but I think I'm going to head home first and get freshened up a little. I'm still full of chlorine from my 'swim' with the lawyer this morning."
"Hold it, you didn't mention that," Lauren broke in. "Here comes the waitress. Myeko, you're holding out on us. While we're eating, you better talk."
"You're so nosy," Myeko kidded her. "Weren't we all above the gossip chain back in high school?"
"Look who's talking—the author of Fantasy Island's very own newspaper gossip column," Maureen teased.
"It's usually Hollywood gossip, not local gossip. Not enough juicy stuff happens around here to make local nosiness worthwhile," Myeko said, evoking laughter. The girls put in their lunch orders and spent the rest of the meal chatting.
After their trip to the police station—and another unscheduled trip to the Lotus Bungalow to make certain that the constables put Jason Wellman in handcuffs—Leslie and Myeko arranged for Myeko to come to the main house about three-thirty, which would give her plenty of time to shower and change clothes. "I'll have Philip Holliday come over just before that," said Leslie, "so you can meet on neutral ground. Father's going to be out all afternoon, as I understand it, because of the other fantasy. I'll be there, though."
"Great," said Myeko. "In that case, see you then."
The main house was deserted when Leslie came back in, although within five minutes after her arrival, Mariki appeared from the kitchen at a fast clip. "Miss Leslie," she said, "is there something wrong with Mr. Roarke?"
Leslie stopped in surprise and stared at her. "What do you mean? What makes you ask that?"
"He was very snappish at lunch," Mariki said, "and that's not like him at all. I thought he might be ill or something. Once I saw him put his hand up to his forehead, like it hurt."
Leslie processed this with some surprise. "Maybe he is," she mused. "He got upset with me this morning because I told him I was granting a fantasy for one of my friends, and he seemed unusually ticked off about it. I didn't think much of it at the time, except that it seemed he was madder at me than at his other assistants who'd done the same thing before, but it never occurred to me that it might be something other than just annoyance. I think the other fantasy has him kind of worked up too, but if he's not feeling well…"
"I just thought you should know," Mariki said.
Leslie nodded. "Thanks, Mariki, I'll look into it when I see him again," she promised. The cook nodded and retreated to the kitchen, and she gave a deep sigh. Before she settled down to make another series of phone calls, she checked her e-mail hopefully. Her reward was another message from Christian.
Hello, my darling!
It was a treat to see your reply in my in-box. So you're granting a fantasy, are you? Well, I don't know about Mr. Roarke, but be assured, I have faith in you. Let me know how it's going, and I hope Myeko gets what she's looking for, too.
As for the telephone call, I rather wish you had a phone of your own. It would be easier for me to talk freely to you without the feeling that Mr. Roarke was there listening in, whether he meant to be or not. But if you think you can find a private place and time for us to talk, let me know and I'll call you tonight. I must admit it would be a thrill to hear your voice again.
Well, it's off to another sales-pitch appointment with too much coffee and too many reporters trying to sneak in and get interviews with the visiting foreign prince. Lately I've been hounded for comments on my marriage to Marina—somehow her rant at Arnulf finally got leaked to the press, and they're having a field day with it. At least the truth is out—that's my way of making something positive out of it all! I hope to talk to you tonight. I love you so much, my Leslie Rose.
All my love,
Christian
She smiled, feeling slightly rueful. Before she could send him a response, she was going to have to talk to Roarke and sound him out on his schedule for the evening and his general mood overall. Mariki's suspicion that he might be ill made her nervous, and she resolved to herself to clear the air with Roarke once and for all.
