Grove End Road – London, England
2006 Greenwich/ 1506 Eastern
Harm was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, while Beth sat at the kitchen table reading. Tonight had been vegetarian lasagna, which Beth had made while Harm was going through a last few case reviews that had landed on his desk as he was leaving for the day. Mattie had spent most of the evening in her room, working on homework. Once she was finished with that, no doubt she'd be downstairs to take over the television, which didn't bother Harm too much. It wasn't like he was planning on watching anything tonight anyways and as long as her school work was done first, he was perfectly happy to let her enjoy herself.
The ringing of the telephone stopping Harm in mid-scrub as he turned towards the offending object. Before he could make a move towards it, Beth got up and answered it while motioning for him to continue working.
"Rabb residence, Lieutenant Commander Rabb speaking," Beth said.
"Hello, Skates. How are you," came Admiral Boone's voice over the line.
"Doing very well, Sir. How are you?"
"I'd be great if the weather gods would give me a couple days good flying weather, but other than that…."
"Well, it is winter, Sir. Into each life a little snow must fall," Beth said with a grin that could plainly be heard on the other end of the line.
"Save that teasing stuff for Hammer, Skates. Is he there, by any chance?" Boone asked.
"Just a moment, Sir."
Beth took the phone away from her ear and motioned Harm over, mouthing "Boone" as he looked at her quizzically.
"Good evening, Sir," Harm said as he took the receiver.
"It's actually afternoon here, but thank you just the same, Harm," Boone said. "I've got good news, good news and not so good news. If Mattie's around, you might want her to listen in on this."
"She's working on homework, so get me a couple of moments to get her."
Turning, he was not surprised to see Beth had already left the kitchen and he could hear her footsteps on the stairs. So, he stood there and waited until she returned with Mattie following her. Looking at the telephone for a moment, he found the speakerphone function on the base and turned it on before turning off the receiver.
"We're all here, Sir," Harm announced.
"Alright, I'll start with the first good news. The last of the past due accounts have been cleared. Mr. Peabody called saying he'd gotten the check and it cleared yesterday. So, with those taken care of, I've also got new work orders completed for all of those customers plus another dozen more that we can now service with the increased range of the newer planes," Boone told them.
"That's great, Tom," Mattie said. "How much did that put into the accounts?"
"Around sixty thousand, what with the penalties Mr. Peabody found in the old contracts."
"So, that should take care of operating expenses for the first month of the new season," Harm put in.
"Actually, no. That money will cover the training costs of the conversion to the turboprops and the extra help we've hired to maintain those, Harm. However, now that everybody understands there's a new guy running the company and he has a lawyer, I believe that the bills will be paid on time in the future," Boone said.
"So, that's good news. What's next, the bad news?" Mattie asked.
"Actually, Mattie, more good news. Beth has finally found a jet she likes, a Gulfstream G-III. She took a test flight in it yesterday down in Florida, says it flew really well and all the logs and maintenance records are up to date. The plane just came out of a thousand hour check and only had two minor issues that have been addressed according to the records. We hired our own person to do a check of the systems and he concurs with the findings."
"Why do I have a feeling the bad news is about to come?" Harm asked with a sigh.
"Because nothing this good is going to be cheap. And yes, we're looking at around ten million for the plane, if we decide to go ahead with the purchase. Beth and I both believe we can make money on the deal, but the price is a little higher than we had hoped for," Boone said.
"Has Beth seen anything else that might be close?"
"No. I mean, we've seen some less expensive, but we'd probably spend the difference to get them up to this level of quality, Harm. In my opinion, if we're going to do this, we have to do it right. And that, I fully believe, means we want VIP level planes, because those are the customers we want. On the other hand, we've seen more expensive, newer aircraft that have more range, like a G-IV, but the price difference is in the neighborhood of another ten million or more. That would raise our costs astronomically and the benefits aren't there to justify it. "
"I agree with Tom, Dad," Mattie said. "I get that it's a lot of money, but you're the one who was pushing for expanding the business in this direction. If Beth and Tom say this is the best plane with which to do it, I think we have to go for it or do you want to waste more of their time searching for something as good but cheaper?"
"How certain are you and Beth that we can make money off this?" Harm asked, wanting to hear it one more time, as he tried to wrap his head around the cost involved.
"I'm about 90 percent. Beth's closer to 100. She's looked at the market around DC and her opinion is that there's an opening there, but it might not be in a year or two as some of the companies that are currently flying turboprops see that business jets make more sense. If we can get there first and provide VIP level service, I could see us looking at adding planes and crews before the year is out. Heck, Harm, you were in Sodom on the Potomac long enough. How many of those bureaucrats and lobbyists wouldn't love to fly off to a meeting and say, 'Yeah, just came down on my G-III. It's waiting for me at the airport', especially if it's all on the taxpayers dime. And that's not even counting the politicians who can afford to fly first class and would be willing to pay a few dollars more for a private flight. If we price it right, they'll be knocking our doors down to get a ride," Boone said with a laugh as that thought took hold.
"I say yes, Dad. You know what Tom thinks. So, what do you say," Mattie asked.
"I say yes. I'll have the money transferred in the morning, Admiral."
"Good. I'll get phase two underway, then."
"What's phase two?" Harm asked, wondering what was going on.
"Phase two is setting up our new second office at Dulles. Beth sold me on the idea before she went to Florida. For this to really take off, the jet can't be based in Blacksburg. It needs to be where the customers are, not an hour away. So, we secured an option on a hanger and office on the general aviation side of Dulles. Now, we'll execute that option and get the office on line," Boone said.
"Who's going to run the office, if Beth is going to be doing the flying," Mattie asked.
"Got it covered, Mattie. Along with a mechanic certified by Gulfstream on G-III and G-IV aircraft and a crew member to handle the passengers."
"Great, Tom. Let us know when you start getting profit and loss numbers on this."
"Will do, Mattie. Talk to you again soon," Boone said before hanging up the telephone.
Mattie just looked at Harm, who was staring off into space, then Beth, who was staring at Harm. For Harm, this moment was the equivalent of sticker shock. He'd been the one who'd suggested the whole charter idea, but the cost of a private jet, even an older, used one, had never entered his mind until Boone had called saying they'd found the plane. Now Harm's mind was racing with the idea of how much money he'd invested into Mattie's company and the total lack of paperwork tied to that money, while also considering how one could conclude a legal contract with a minor. Not out of any fears for recovering the money, but just to have a paper trail for when the IRS and a host of other agencies came asking where the money had gone to and why.
Beth, on the other hand, was wondering if Harm fully understood what he was doing. Between the loans he'd paid off, the dusters he'd already bought and now this private jet, the man had invested over fifteen million with absolutely nothing to protect them. Yes, their daughter owned the business and they both trusted and respected Admiral Boone, but still. Fifteen million was a lot of money. Personally, Beth would have felt better if they had waited and seen how things went with the new crop dusters first, maybe using some of the profits those planes generated to offset the cost of this jet rather than just accessing the Bank of Rabb again. Even worse, in her mind, they were already talking about the possibility of more planes if this took off and she was scared it would mean Harm putting even more money into the business.
Realizing that the two adults were lost in their thoughts, Mattie collected a bottle of water from the refrigerator and then went back upstairs. She still had homework in need of finishing and it most certainly wasn't going to do itself. Beth did notice the teen leave and decided to speak her peace.
"Harm, we need to talk," she said as she sat at the kitchen table.
"Oh? What about?" Harm asked as he sat.
"Have you really thought this whole thing through?"
"What, the new plane?"
"No, all of it. The new dusters, the loans, now this," Beth said, frustration creeping into her voice. "You've just spent ten million dollars and what do you have? No paperwork, no contracts or loan agreements, nothing."
"I'm not worried. Mattie owns the company and once things take off, we'll get the money back," Harm told her.
"How do you know that, Harm? Hundreds of businesses fail every year. How do you know Grace Aviation won't be one of them?"
"Well, the difference between most of those businesses and Grace is that we have no real debt. So, the company isn't burdened with loan payments and interest payments on top of everything else. And it seems to be working, given that the Admiral has found more customers as well as getting the past due accounts collected."
"Harm, I want you to make me a promise," Beth said. "No more money on Grace Aviation. Not until we see some results that justify it."
Harm just looked at Beth for a long moment. If his math was anywhere near right, the account should have around 47, maybe 48 million left in it after this last purchase. So he couldn't understand exactly where the tinge of fear he'd caught in Beth's voice came from. But he also knew far better than to ignore it. Besides, a good RIO was always trying to keep their driver from doing something stupid and she clearly thought he was reaching that point.
"Alright, Beth. I promise, no more. At least until we see how this goes," Harm told her.
"Good. Now, I also think you need to have a lawyer draw up some papers to protect you. Oh, not from Mattie," Beth said upon seeing the look on his face. "I'm more concerned about the IRS than I am about our daughter. When you do our taxes, you're going to have to explain not just where this money came from, but also where it's gone to."
The stunned stupid look that crossed Harm's face was almost too much for Beth. Only the seriousness of the topic prevented her from outright laughing. She was glad for that when a moment later came a panicked look that was instantly followed by Harm racing for the telephone. He only hoped that Frank was not out golfing or something.
"Burnett residence," came Trish's voice on the line.
"Hi, Mom," Harm said. "How are you?"
"I'm wonderful, darling. How are you and the family enjoying London?"
"It's very nice, Mom. We've been to the Tower and maybe this weekend we'll go to Greenwich. Mattie's doing well in school and has made a couple of friends."
"That's good. Frank and I are driving up to Los Angeles for a gallery showing this afternoon, you just caught me stopping home to pack," Trish said.
"Oh, someone new or one of your established artists?" Harm asked.
"He's a young kid, about 20 or so. He does seascape paintings, almost have a three dimensional quality to them."
"Sounds like those should sell."
"I hope so, since I plan to buy a couple for the gallery," Trish said.
"Good luck with that, Mom. Is Frank home, by any chance?" Harm asked.
"Of course. He's been sitting here wondering why the son who rarely visits was calling."
Harm took the teasing barb as it was intended and laughed.
"Hi, Harm. What can I help you with?" Frank asked.
"That education account. How do I handle that on my tax return?" Harm asked.
"You're in the clear there, Harm. I took care of all that years ago, as far as inheritance taxes are concerned. You were at the Academy at the time, so I simply filed that year's return listing the starting value and current value and paid the taxes out of the account. However, you'll still have to pay taxes on whatever you've sold from the account to get cash and my investment advisor will send you the proper paperwork for that. Why, been on a little spending spree?"
"Only if you call purchasing four airplanes a little spending."
Frank's jaw about hit the floor at that news, causing Trish to look over at him in concern.
"Four airplanes? Why would you buy four airplanes?" Frank asked.
"We're expanding Grace Aviation. I've been financing things, while Tom Boone runs it. We've got three new crop dusters and a G-III to start a charter service," Harm told him.
"Well, I don't know anything about crop dusting, but airplane charters are taking off out here. A friend of mine just invested in a company that does that. It makes sense to me, but do you think you can make money at it?"
"I think so, as long as we can keep our costs down and our prices competitive. So far, the executive charters in the area are using turboprops like King Airs and I think a jet can get customers to their destinations faster. The only question is how much is that time savings worth?"
"For most business types, it's worth a lot," Frank said. "Travel time is seen as wasted time."
"I think that will mean plenty of customers, but Beth is urging caution," Harm said.
"So am I, Harm. Go slow with this. A good business doesn't overcommit. They see what the results are and make plans based on information."
Harm had to agree. Something of a mantra for most aviators was "plan the flight and fly the plan". Making it up as you went along all too often led to disaster. So, he would wait and see if his idea worked or not.
"Thanks, Frank."
"Any time, Harm. Listen, I've got to go. Give Beth and Mattie our best and take care," Frank said before hanging up the telephone.
For her part, Beth had heard enough of the conversation to feel some relief. Having a professional involved, as well as one that Frank apparently trusted, would go a long way to guaranteeing that they didn't run afoul of the tax laws. Not to mention Frank agreeing with her opinion that Harm shouldn't do anything more with Mattie's company until some results started coming in.
"Feel a little better now?" Harm asked as he looked at Beth.
"And you should too. The last thing either of us should want is the IRS, NCIS and a host of others looking through our finances, Harm. Even if we can prove everything is legitimate, you know how rumors take on a life of their own."
Harm had the good grace to not comment about that, seeing as how the whole mess with Alison had just ended and how much of that could be fairly described in a similar manner. Going back over to the sink, he started back in where he'd left off. Beth could sense some brooding going on, so she elected to make her way into the living room. She picked up the novel she had been reading and found her place once more, as she settled in on the couch.
January 28, 2004
Victor Galindez's Quarters – London, England
1752 Greenwich/ 1252 Eastern
Victor stood before the mirror in his room, examining his reflection. At the cost of the uniform, it should look sharp, but he wanted to make certain it was up to his standards. This was an important evening to him and he wanted everything to go well. That's why he'd shined his shoes twice, triple checked the placement of his medals and stopped for a hair cut on his lunch break. He was also freshly showered and shaved.
The ring of the phone took his focus from the mirror and Victor walked over to the object.
"Galindez speaking, Sir," Victor answered.
"A Miss Wallace to see you, Sir," the porter announced.
"Show her up, please."
"Very well."
Victor went to the door and opened it, before stepping back to await Emily's arrival. When she did, she certainly did not disappoint. She was dressed in a scarlet gown, wearing a string of pearls and a golden watch. Her dark brown hair was down, cascading in waves to her shoulders. Victor felt his breath catch as she entered the apartment, her coat draped over her arm.
"Oh my," was all Victor could say, earning an appreciative smile from his date.
"I have to say that you look very handsome, Victor," Emily told him, meaning it. The uniform only served to enhance the masculine quality of the man opposite her, as did the display of medals on his chest. She didn't how what they represented and was hesitant to ask, so her memory simply filed them away until she could research them.
"Thank you, Emily. I hope this will do?"
"I should most definitely think so."
Stepping to the kitchen, Victor retrieved the flowers he'd purchased that afternoon on his way home. He felt a small bouquet was appropriate for the occasion, not wanting to overdo things at this early stage. Still, they were going to a show and dressing up, so he thought flowers were a must. Handing them to Emily, he saw her smile at the gesture. She was impressed, both with the flowers and the thoughtfulness. No other man she'd been out with had ever done that before, not this early in their dating. Come to that, most hadn't done it later on either.
"Shall we go," Victor said, extending his hands to take her coat and holding it open for her. Once she had it on, he held his elbow out for her. Victor was electing to brave the cold without a coat, so as not to muss his uniform jacket. He was hopeful that they wouldn't be outside for very long.
Going downstairs, he caught the look on the porter's face as he held the door for them and nodded politely, while also feeling a certain masculine pride in the fact that he was the date of the lovely woman next to him. Here too Victor got his next surprise, as a chauffeured car awaited them, the driver holding the rear door open for them. Emily slide in first, followed by Victor before the door was closed and the drive got behind the wheel.
"Grandfather offered his car, when I confessed that we were going to the show," Emily told him quietly. "He also offered to accompany me before I informed him that I already had a date. He said he admired your sacrifice."
"I don't see how spending an evening in pleasant company can be called a sacrifice," Victor said back equally quietly.
"That's because you haven't experienced my family yet."
"Come on, they can't be that bad."
"I would suggest reserving such comments until the evening is over," was all Emily said to that.
The rest of the drive passed in silence, as Victor thought about that comment while Emily steeled herself for dealing with her family. Not that she wasn't used to being the odd-man out, just that the incessant comments usually wore on her and by the end of the evening all she wanted to do was go home and bury her head in the pillows for a good cry. Cry over her parents wanting her to be something she wasn't, over the lack of love she felt from them because of her 'disobedience', her exposure to the filth and criminals of the city. Police, to her parents, were working-class and their family was not working-class.
When the car stopped, Victor had his door opened before the driver could even get out. He extended a hand to Emily as she exited as well. The couple walked into the theater hand-in-hand before going over to the coat check, where Emily left her coat. She then led the way into the lobby, taking their tickets from her small purse and presenting them. The ticket checker then directed them to where the small reception was due to take place. They were by no means the first to arrive, but were still somewhat early. Not early enough, Emily realized, as she caught sight of her parents and her brothers, together with their wives.
Emily led Victor over towards the group, as she forced a smile onto her face.
"Emily, dear. I'm so pleased that you decided to join us," an older lady said as she stepped forward and kissed Emily on her cheek, her back to Victor before turning. "Thank you for bringing her over, but you can go back to work now."
"Mother! This is my date," Emily said, angrily.
"Your date?! He looks more like a doorman than a date, dear. Or one of those fellows who rings the bells around Christmas."
"Mother, he does not look like either of those two things. He looks like what he is, a member of the United States Marine Corps. Victor, this is my mother, Catherine Wallace. Mother, this is First Sergeant Victor Galindez."
"Ma'am," Victor said pleasantly, hiding how offended he'd been at her description of him as well as her curt dismissal before that.
"Galindez? Is that Spanish or South American, something like that?" Mrs. Wallace asked.
"Originally, it was Mexican. My family has lived in what's now New Mexico since the 1700s, Ma'am."
"How interesting. You seem a little older than my daughter."
"I wouldn't know, Ma'am. I was always taught that a gentleman doesn't ask a lady her age. But if you're politely asking how old I am, I'm forty-four," Victor said.
"That's more than a decade older than Emily," Mrs. Wallace said, her tone making plain her thoughts on that little fact.
"Mother, why does his age even matter," Emily said. "He's someone I've recently met and I happen to enjoy spending time with him."
"But he's a Yank, child. He'll soon be gone and you'll be all on your lonesome again. Not to mention, you're still fairly young, but you're looking older and…."
"Stop it, Mother, before I decide to leave!"
"Emily, I am simply concerned with your best interests," Mrs. Wallace responded, acting like she was speaking to a backwards child. "It is to be expected that a child will rebel a little, but you have carried it much too far. It is past time for you to stop paying at being a policewoman and start taking your rightful place in society."
"My rightful place?" Emily asked, annoyed. "What? Go back to law school? Find a 'proper' husband from some family you and Father are friends with, a way to seal the relationship like Will and James did with the wives you picked for them."
Victor was stuck, not able to leave as he watched the growing argument. What was even worse was that more people were arriving and witnessing it as well. Finally, inspiration struck and he laid a gentle hand on Emily's forearm.
"Why don't we get something to drink before the show starts, Emily?"
"Yes, that seems like a very good idea," Emily said, breaking eye contact with her mother.
Offering a polite nod to Mrs. Wallace, Victor led the way over to the bar. He ordered a glass of scotch for himself, before deferring to Emily, who surprised him by ordering the same. When the drinks came, he was even more shocked to watch her swiftly drain the glass before signaling for a refill.
"Still feel the same about my family, Victor?"
"No, I don't," Victor replied quietly. "Is your mother always like that?"
"Tonight was worse than normal, but only slightly," Emily told him. "Maybe it was the uniform, I don't know."
"Or my name or nationality or my age."
Emily had to chuckle at that concise listing of everything that her mother had seemed to take exception to about Victor, before the chuckle turned into a stifled sob. Why, oh why couldn't her mother just be happy for her? Why was it always like this? Looking out into the room, she could see her mother talking with the rest of the family, who were all looking their way.
"If you want to go, Victor…"
"No. I came here with you and I'll leave with you. If you want to stay for the show, we're staying. If you want to leave, then let's go. But don't let this ruin our evening," Victor told her.
"Are you certain?" Emily asked.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Emily."
The dimming of the house lights signaled the patrons to take their seats, as the show was about to begin. Emily had been here before and led the way to their seats. She smiled slightly when she saw that she and Victor were on the aisle, separated from her parents by her brothers and their wives who were all studiously ignoring her and Victor. Emily choose to return the favor, instead turning her attention to Victor, who was leafing through the program.
When the lights went down and the show started, Victor settled back to watch. He'd never before seen the Phantom of the Opera and was suitably impressed. The music was engaging and the acting was interesting. But for him, the best part was enjoying it with someone else. That was what made it special to him.
At intermission, Emily and Victor filed out of the show and went in search of the restrooms. Victor was out first and stood waiting for her to appear. He wasn't sure how much time they had, but didn't want to just go back to his seat. Finally, he saw her emerge and began to make his way towards her when another man got there first.
"You certainly put Mother in fits, Emily," the man said.
"Why, because I chose to bring a guest? She gave me two tickets after all," Emily said.
"But a Yank? Not to mention a bloody bootneck and an enlisted one, too. You didn't think that would give her the vapors?"
"Anything I do she disapproves of, James. You know that. When I got my degree in criminal justice and joined the police, where was she? Right there to tell me how I was wasting my life. When I became the youngest Detective Chief Inspector, what did she or Father say when I announced the news? You remember, certainly. It was, 'Well, you should do better than the others, child, with your advantages of background. So it is not really a cause for celebration, is it?'"
"Emily, they just think you could be doing more with your life. And so do I, for that matter," James told her. "Go back to Oxford and get your law degree, then come join my firm."
"And be bored to death inside a year? No thank you. The most adventurous thing your office does is insure it's legal to repossess an old lady's home before the landlord does it," Emily said sarcastically.
"We do not. We don't handle things like that."
"I know, I know. You handle taxes and corporate law, which is even more boring and useless."
The flashing of the lights cut whatever response her brother was about to make, which was just as well, as far as Emily was concerned. Seeing Victor a couple of paces away, she went to him and took his arm, flashing a look at her brother than didn't go unnoticed. Then, she steered them back into the hall and down to their seats. James came along a moment later, apologizing insincerely as he stepped on Victor's foot as he passed.
The rest of the show was just as nice, Victor thought, though Emily didn't seem as impressed. Perhaps she'd seen a better performance of it or something else was bothering her. When it ended, Victor and Emily were amongst the very first to leave. Emily made her way directly to the coat check to reclaim hers, then headed straight outside. Victor followed along and joined her in the waiting car.
"So, where to now, Emily?" Victor asked.
"I was hoping we could get a late dinner," Emily suggested.
"That sounds wonderful."
"Great. Michael, take us to Angus, please."
"Yes, Ma'am," the driver responded, knowing the restaurant well.
The drive took only a few minutes and Emily led the way into the restaurant. The host smiled before leading the couple of a table, leaving them with menus and informing them that their server would be with them shortly. Victor took up the menu and smiled. This was definitely his kind of place, a genuine steak house.
"I take it you approve," Emily said with a smile, pleased with her choice for where to eat.
"Completely. But then when haven't I approved of something you chose," Victor replied with a grin of his own.
"But was that because you truly liked it or didn't want to offend me that is the question."
"I truly enjoyed them. Even tonight, once the musical started and you relaxed, it was a good evening. One I wouldn't mind repeating at some point."
"Thank you, Victor," Emily said, feeling her mood improving now that they were away from her family. Victor was no slouch in the art of observation and could see the weight coming off of his companion now that they were alone. He felt sorry for her, the way her family seemed to treat her. Still, he didn't feel he knew the true situation well enough to voice an opinion at this point.
The server came over then to take their drink orders as well as their meal choices. Victor went with a 12 ounce Fillet with a baked potato and side salad, along with a glass of beer to drink. Emily decided on an 8 ounce Fillet with steamed vegetables and a glass of wine. The server nodded before leaving the table, telling them he'd return shortly with their drinks.
"I can't believe my mother asking how old you were," Emily said, shaking her head at the memory.
"Or her reaction when I told her," Victor said. "How old are you, Emily?"
"And I thought a gentleman never asked a lady that question."
"Emily…."
"I'm 28, Victor," Emily said softly. Seeing a look cross Victor's face, she blushed before rushing on. "That's not too big of a difference, is it?"
"Only that you're almost young enough to be my daughter," Victor replied, slightly shocked as he had thought she was around 35 and just looked 30.
"I'm sorry, Victor. Maybe we should just call it a night?"
"Is that what you want?"
"I don't know," Emily told him.
"Emily, it's a shock, that's all. I thought you were older and just looked younger," Victor told her with a smile. "You certainly act more mature than 28."
"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not."
"It most definitely was one. Or as much of one as a bloody bootneck like me can give."
"Ah, you heard my brother say that," Emily said with a frown, before the conversation paused as the server put down their drinks.
"I heard all of your conversation with him. Why didn't you get a law degree?" Victor asked, curious.
"I think I have more of a positive impact on people's lives as a police officer than I could ever have as a lawyer."
"I know a few lawyers who might disagree with you."
"Oh, I'm sure there are some who do as much good, but to me, helping to catch the thief or recover someone's property, that means something. More so than defending the criminals or helping a company avoid taxes by finding a break for them to exploit," Emily told him.
"You could have become a prosecutor and tried to make sure the criminals end up staying behind bars," Victor replied.
"I'm sure I could have, but I doubt that would have changed my family's opinion as to what I'm doing with my life. My father is a successful surgeon who's now head of his department, my mother is a senior vice president for British Petroleum heading their legal department. James is another successful lawyer and William is a doctor, at the same hospital as my father. My two sisters are doctors in private practice, Kathleen up in Aberdeen and Heather here in London. Anything less from me is considered a failure, not just on my part but also on theirs, because they obviously didn't succeed in raising me right."
"I may be out of line, Emily, and if I am please say so. But in my opinion, you need to do whatever makes you happiest, regardless of your parents' opinions. And if that mean being a police officer, that's great. If it meant being a juggler in a circus, then do it. Living someone else's dreams only leaves you feeling empty."
The server returned with their meals them, which effectively ended the conversation as they each ate. Victor made appreciative noises as he tasted the steak, which he thought was cooked to perfection. Emily was equally pleased with hers as well as the vegetables. The food was so good, in fact, that both ate somewhat slower than they normally would, just to enjoy it. Still, the meal was over all too soon and the server returned to see if they wanted desserts. Both replied negatively, so the young man cleared some of the plates before coming back with the bill. Victor barely glanced at it as he laid his credit card down on top of it.
"Victor," Emily said as the server collected the card.
"Emily, it's my treat. You got us the tickets, so consider that your contribution to the evening," Victor said with a smile. Given that his housing allowance covered all of his rent, his only really expenses since coming to London had been getting the car and paying for his meals and groceries. So he could afford to splurge every now and again. Heck, between his time in Afghanistan, then being seconded to the CIA and now here, he figured to have a good sum saved up by the end of this tour.
The server was back with the receipt before Emily could say anything else and Victor signed it. With that, the couple left the restaurant and spotted the car a few spots down. The driver was out and had the door opened by the time they walked up. They settled back into the seat as the car left, the driver already guessing at his destination and heading for Victor's apartment. Emily leaned into Victor, who put his arm around her and held her.
"I had a very good time tonight," Victor said softly.
"Even considering my family and the revelation of your robbing the cradle?" Emily asked teasingly.
"Yes, even with all that."
"So, you would be willing to go on another date with me?"
"Is that what we're doing, dating?" Victor asked.
"I hope so, Victor, or is it too soon to call it that," Emily asked.
"Not in my opinion."
"Good, then we're dating."
Victor just smiled at the happiness he heard in Emily's voice and had to wonder how love starved her childhood had to have been where the simple fact that she was dating someone could bring that much joy out of her. Then again, after the brief encounter with Emily's mother, he suspected that expressing love and affection hadn't been big in the Wallace home. If that was the case, he promised himself that he was show Emily as much love as he could.
The car arrived at Victor's building and he opened the door to get out. But before he did, he leaned over and gave Emily a gentle kiss on the cheek. Emily, though, wasn't willing to accept just that and proceeded to turn her head so that she could return the kiss, this time on his lips. It was soft, just a quick peck, but it hinted at things to come.
"Good night, Victor," Emily said with a smile.
"Good night, Emily," Victor replied.
"Call me."
"Yes, Ma'am"
With that Victor closed the door and headed into his building, while the car carrying Emily pulled away. Each were lost in their own thoughts, yet anyone seeing the Marine march across the lobby to the elevator would have noticed a little spring in his step and a little smile tugging at his lips.