The Staircase of Dragon Jerico
Chapter Six
PRESTON STOOD ON A HILL, looking down toward the lake. It was almost like being transferred into the terrain map in his office. He knew where every land feature was and how to navigate among them. He couldn’t talk to people, but he could talk to the land—and it answered.
His grandfather said Preston had a gift for spatial analysis. He could call it whatever he wanted. The way Preston’s mind worked, he could visualize a completed project before the first shovel of dirt was turned. He’d come to this piece of land on a fishing trip when he was barely in his teens. From his boat on the water, he looked up at the gently rising slopes and saw the entire Cloudhaven community in his mind’s eye. He’d talked his grandfather into acquiring a little cabin on the lake and Preston had spent many hours in the seclusion it offered, sketching and drawing his vision. Over the years, he’d maneuvered to have the family acquire more than a thousand acres of shoreland in the name of Interlake Holding Company.
He'd had soil tests done, environmental studies, and surveys. He held his plat map in hand as he looked out over the terrain. He would have the surveyors out first thing after the New Year to lay out the streets. He was not happy about the holdout on a single parcel of land, but he could work around it if he had to.
Preston had done several fly-overs of the property with his grandfather, taking hundreds of photographs, from which they’d created the terrain map. But the next steps would require the board of directors to approve the project. Of late, the board had been tightening the belt on speculative projects—partly as a result of the pandemic. People were slow to get back on board with development. Preston’s research, however, showed people with money were much more interested in developing unique community concepts than in office buildings like the Mackenzie project. That project had definitely gone sideways this week.
Preston would depend on Royce’s ability to sell the Cloudhaven concept to the board. He wished he could do it himself, but it would be bad enough to attend the board meeting. He’d rap the gavel and call the meeting to order, then turn it over to Royce. He would sit at the head of the table in a suit and tie and his mask, listening to everything that was said, and would dismiss the meeting. The week before a board meeting, he would meet with Royce for hours every day, making sure he understood exactly what needed to be sold. Royce would take care of convincing people. That’s what the chief operating officer was there for.
Preston stepped up on a stump.
“This is where the front desk of the hotel will be,” he said. His grandfather looked up at him.
“I want to get a GPS reading on that location,” the spry old man laughed. “I’ll check it against the actual location when the hotel is built.”
“I’m going to have a house just down the street—not as massive as Jerico House, but it will still be impressive. Right up behind the cabin. Cathedral ceiling and floor to ceiling windows looking down over the lake. I’ll see the sunrise over the water every morning.”
“It’s a seventy-mile commute to the office in Jerico City,” Lawrence said.
“We won’t need to worry about it,” Preston said. “I don’t see anyone at the office anyway. I can just as well telecommute.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. You should be seen more often in the office. I believe people are beginning to think you are a ghost. I don’t mean you need to stop and talk to people, but come down floor by floor and just walk through the office like you own it. You do. You might find out some interesting things about your employees,” Lawrence said.
“I suppose.”
“You said ‘we won’t need to worry about it,’ a minute ago. Who is the ‘we?’”
“Oh, me and my mythical wife and children. I’m thinking I’ll just have to wait in a duck blind out here until I see a woman I like and rush out to capture her. I’ll show her the house and invite her to stay. That will be all the conversation we’ll have.”
“You know you’ll never be happy with that. Take a look around the office. I know there are single women there.”
“I don’t think I should date in the office pool. They’re going to hate me when the pink slips come out anyway,” Preston sighed. “Mackenzie is defaulting. I’ll have to let fifty people go. The first thing Royce needs to get done in January is complete our investor portfolio. We need $100 million in guaranteed funding in order to break ground in April. It’s going to be tight.”
“Take care of your housekeeping. We’ve been planning this community for fifteen years. If we need to plan another year, it won’t hurt a thing.”
“It’s getting cold. We should head back. I don’t want my G-Pop to get too cold.”
“Let’s get a cup of coffee in Willington on the way.”
“The humane thing is to execute the layoffs immediately,” Royce said. “We know who is going to be cut. We should give them a nice Christmas gift this afternoon and their pink slips. They’ll be ready to start their job searches on New Year’s Day.”
“No. No layoffs before the holiday. It’s bad enough to do it at this time of year at all. Are you sure we need to lay off so many?” Preston insisted.
“You’ve already cut it from fifty, which was the recommendation from finance, to thirty. With Mackenzie defaulting, we need to act as soon as possible. Two more weeks on the payroll means five more people cut.”
“We can handle this with the severance package I’ve put together. We’ll have some volunteers. None of our workers deserve this,” Preston insisted. “I’ll finalize it and have it back to you this weekend. We’ll make the cuts on January second.”
“You’re soft, Preston. It isn’t about what people deserve.”
Preston went through the list again, trying to decide if there were any exceptions he should make to the staff cuts proposed by HR. In general, they followed standard rules. Most were simply listed by department, position, and last name. There were no notations concerning age, salary, seniority, or other characteristics. It was supposed to be fairer that way. Of course, Preston knew how to look each of his employees up on the network and had access to their employment records.
As he looked through the five hundred employees and contractors in their database, he finally paused when he saw a familiar face. Not far down the list of that department’s employees was another image he recognized. He looked through the cuts designated for that department and gave two borderline employees a reprieve. In their stead, he entered the names of the two men who had given his waitress such a hard time in the diner a few weeks ago. His company didn’t need people like that.
There were many things Preston didn’t like about controlling his family’s company. Decisions like letting thirty people go were among them. But there was also the sham of trying to keep the appearance of corporate health, when he himself couldn’t stand in front of the employees and wish them a Merry Christmas without hyperventilating. Royce handled that.
Royce had already made the presentation to the board of directors, justifying the cutbacks, and describing the severance package that would be granted to the laid off employees. The board congratulated him on the humane treatment of the severed workers.
As if Royce had anything to do with it. Preston had met with his HR director and CFO and worked out the details in an hours-long meeting. He didn’t want to dismiss anyone and did so with great care for their well-being. Royce would have simply scattered pink slips randomly through the office on Christmas Eve.
The thing was, with Royce’s flair and charisma, he probably could have done it without offending anyone. They wouldn’t know they’d been screwed until sometime next year. All the contractors working on the Mackenzie project had already been notified that the project was halted.
Soft-hearted and overwhelmed by anxiety in the presence of others, Preston had to content himself with sitting alone in his penthouse office and let others carry out the mission he set before them.
Preston had an obligation to his mother. Personally, he thought a date on Christmas weekend was a disaster to start. His mother had assured him that a suitable venue was available. The Jerico Madrigal Singers put on a production before Christmas. That was fine by Preston. He enjoyed music and going to a performance freed him from most interaction with the woman he was accompanying.
He pulled his six-year-old sedan out of the office parking ramp. This had been his mother’s idea, too. Left to Preston, he’d only drive the pickup truck, but his mother insisted it wasn’t appropriate to take on a date. He drove to the address his mother had given him. It was an older home on the northwest side of town. He parked, took a deep breath, and went to the door.
“Who’s here?” a deep voice sounded. The door opened and a small mountain of a man filled the frame. “Yes?”
At six-two, Preston wasn’t a small man, but this guy had him by at least two inches and seventy pounds. Intimidating.
“Uh… uh… I… I’m Preston. I’m… I’m here to pick up J-J-Janice,” he managed to get out. The mountain looked him up and down.
“Kind of old, aren’t you?” he demanded.
“I-I-I’m thirty-two.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“Daddy! Stop intimidating my date,” a woman behind him said. He stepped aside and Preston saw a young woman in her early twenties. He wanted to ask the man to pardon him, and admit he was definitely too old. Janice took over the interaction, though. “Hi! I’m Janice. You must be Preston. Your mom told me all about you, so don’t worry about a thing. I’m harmless. And so’s Daddy most of the time. I’ll be home by one, Daddy. If I’m late, don’t worry. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. And Preston’s a nice guy. Help me with my coat, Preston?”
She handed Preston a winter coat and he held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“Have… uh… fun,” the mountain of a man said. He closed the door behind them.
“Don’t let Daddy bother you. He’s really a big teddy bear. He always puts on a gruff act the first time a boy picks me up for a date. This is a nice car. Is it new? It looks so clean and shiny.”
Preston held the door open for her and she slid into the seat. He took another deep breath as he walked around the car, wishing he was eating leftovers in his apartment. He’d yet to say anything since admitting his age to the girl’s father. He got into the car and she was off again.
“I know your Mom said you don’t talk much. I think that’s cool. I guess I talk enough for two people anyway. You look nice,” Janice said.
“Um… Six years,” Preston said.
“Huh?”
“The car. Not new.”
“Oh! Yeah! I kind of figured that out. I didn’t think you looked like the kind of guy who went out to buy a new car every year. Bet you drive them until they don’t go any farther and then get another one. That’s what I’d do with a car like this. You keep it really clean and shiny. It feels so warm and comfy. Oh! It’s got seat warmers! That’s why. Thank you for warming it up for me. They say it’s going to get down to twenty or something tonight. Of course, not right now. But it’s still nice to have the seat warmer.”
Preston pulled away from the curb and headed into town. He didn’t know why he let his mother talk him into a blind date like this. First, there would be an interminable dinner. At least the food would be good. Janice was nice to look at, but he wasn’t sure he’d still have ears by the time the evening ended.
“I know your mom from the beauty salon where she gets her hair done. I’m not like just a typical haircutter, though, you know? I mean, I could certainly cut your hair and it would look great, but I like to find the essence of the person and bring that out in the hair style. I went to the Paul Davis Atelier School of Beauty all the way up in Minneapolis, so I feel like I was really well trained, you know?”
Preston pulled into the valet parking at La Boheme, a restaurant he felt was far too fancy for a first date, but his mother had made reservations. In his experience, that just set the expectation of him being a big spender. And often it said he expected something in return from the date. He didn’t. He wasn’t into meeting a woman and going to bed with her. He just wanted to survive the evening. In fact, it had been a long time since he’d been to bed with a woman.
“So, this is nice,” Janice said as they were seated. “You know, you don’t have to spend a lot on me. I mean, I’m impressed and everything, but it doesn’t change anything about the evening. I want to have fun, like you do. I’m excited about going to the madrigal performance. Christmas is like my favorite time of year. I feel like a little kid during this season. Like, I’m going to look up the chimney for Santa on Christmas Eve.”
“Um… uh… H-How old… are you?”
“Oh, wow. I don’t like to talk about that because then people don’t take me seriously, you know? I’m twenty-three, but everyone says I’m really mature for my age. Like, I’m not going to talk about boy bands or try to get you to go to a rave or anything. I’m really kind of a homebody, you know?”
Preston didn’t know what she meant by that. Unless pushed, he didn’t leave his apartment. That was a homebody. Janice seemed much more social. And he couldn’t imagine being trapped in his apartment with her non-stop narrative.
Occasionally, however, Janice tossed something quite unexpected into the conversation.
“Did you see the article in Social Style on the resurgence of Art Nouveau decorating in public buildings? I mean, really, it doesn’t surprise me. Style is a cyclical thing and old styles will resurface periodically. But with the new conservatism in society, I didn’t expect such a turn toward decorative vines and flowers. Not that I think that’s all Art Nouveau is. Like the dragon staircase in your mother’s home definitely shows the sinuous curves of the style, but preceded the introduction of the Art Nouveau style by fifty years or more. There were many things in the early Victorian style that paved the way for the later style.”
“Nature um… is often… an inspiration,” Preston managed.
“Yes. You see that all the way back in ancient Greek architecture. What was it? The Corinthian capitals that were all leaves and flowers? I try to take all that into consideration when I’m designing a hair style. People should reflect the style of their surroundings. Don’t you think?”
It was a great intro to a topic Preston could feasibly discuss. He certainly knew enough about it, having studied architecture, urban planning, and history for most of his life. Unfortunately, however, by the time he had collected a thought to contribute to the conversation, Janice had moved on to places in the world she had traveled and her preference for air travel over rail, even for short hops in Europe, because you never know what you’re going to get on a railroad, you know.
Preston escorted Janice out of the restaurant after he had settled the bill with his signature and called for his car. In the theatre, Janice was finally quiet, though Preston could sense that not talking was a strain on her. She took his hand and frequently squeezed during a piece of music she liked.
The madrigal was mostly secular Christmas music from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The theatre at the School of Arts included more than just singing the carols. There were also some spoken recitations, Morris dancers, and mini dramas. And naturally, there were a few of the more traditional religious songs that had everyone in the audience singing along.
Preston led the way from the theatre to where he’d parked, nodding to people who greeted him, but not really saying anything. No one expected him to say anything. Janice kept hold of his hand and continued to hum some of the songs they’d heard. It was a very ‘feel good’ performance, and even Preston left a little lighthearted.
“You know, Preston, you wouldn’t need to take me home right away. We could go someplace… more private. You’re such a nice guy and a great listener. We could continue the night as long as you’d like,” she said.
There it was! She’d tolerated an entire evening with him and now she was laying the trap! If the evening went beyond a goodnight kiss, it would imply an obligation. Preston was on guard at once.
“Um… Not um… proper, you know?” he managed. “I would n-n-not presume on you um… for more than… you know… a first date.”
“You are so sweet and respectful. A ‘first’ date implies there will be more. I do hope you’ve had as much fun as I have.”
“N-n-nice. Thank you.”
He walked her to the door as she clutched his arm tightly. Once on the porch, she did not let go, but pressed herself to him and lifted her lips to his. As soon as they touched, she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him insistently. It was breathtaking.
Preston had to actively extract himself from her embrace and step back.
“Th-th-thank you. Nice evening,” he said. “Goodnight.”
He stepped backward off the porch and nearly tripped down the steps on his way to the car.
“Goodnight until next time, Preston,” she sighed.
She went into the house and Preston could see the shadow of her father through the open door. He got directly in his car and pulled away.
Preston returned to his parking spot at the office and stumbled to the elevator. Once in the apartment, he hung his coat and hat, and kicked off his shoes. He was exhausted and wondered if he had ever listened to more words in such a short period of time before.
He plopped down in his sitting area with a glass of scotch and idly flipped through the television stations until he came upon an old black and white Christmas movie. Outside his window, it began to snow.
Hmm. He could have had company watching his old movie, but he was absolutely certain it would have come with obligations. And she probably would have talked instead of watching the movie.
A good listener? There was no chance to say anything. Not that he would have been eloquent, but he might have done more than nod his head. He set the drink aside and grabbed the 4x4x4 Rubik’s Cube from the side table.
Before it was solved, he was asleep on the sofa with the movie still playing.
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