Unpredictable Reunion Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

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  UNPREDICTABLE REUNION

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  Barbara McMahon

  www.barbaramcmahon.com

  Unpredictable Reunion

  Copyright © 2022 Barbara McMahon

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  Caroline Foster slipped into the conference room late as usual. She hurried to her seat at the long mahogany table and quickly sat, hoping her uncle wouldn’t make one of his scathing remarks. Fortunately Thomas Foster was pontificating on some aspect of her cousin Parker’s latest account and didn’t bother to turn his attention to her.

  She tried to catch up with what was going on. Sally Myers, sitting next to her, slipped her a note giving a brief recap. She smiled in acknowledgment and began to listen attentively.

  A few moments later and Parker was off the hook. Her uncle Thomas turned his focus to her. She’d suspected her luck had been too good to be true.

  “Nice of you to join us, Caroline,” he said with a hard look at her.

  She nodded. She was used to his ways. She didn’t like to cross him, but had more than once. And undoubtedly would again. He hadn’t built one of the largest family-owned advertising businesses in the Pacific Northwest by being Mr. Nice Guy. But she was no pushover herself.

  He pulled out a sheet from the stack in front of him. “We have a response to the ad copy you sent in for Western Trails,” he said, holding it up as if exhibit A.

  “Did they go for the ad?” Sally asked.

  “No.”

  Caroline’s heart dropped. She’d been given the account midway into the design stage. She’d picked up where the prelims left off, worked hard, both with graphics and the copy. Adrian Tyler had done the preliminary work on the account, but when his wife had complications during her pregnancy, he’d taken a leave of absence and given Caroline all his notes.

  She thought she’d captured exactly what the sporting goods company was trying to accomplish with its expansion into the Pacific Northwest. A Denver firm, it had been growing rapidly for the last six years first in the Rockies, then in the California market. Now the company was opening stores in Seattle, Portland and Yakima simultaneously. She’d really hoped to get the local account for Foster and Prince.

  “At least, not yet,” Thomas said.

  Caroline looked up at him. “What does that mean?”

  “This is most unusual, but the company wants the top contenders to go one step farther than just providing copy. Apparently the head man wants us to put our money where our mouth is, so to speak.”

  “And that means what?” she asked again. Did Thomas have to be so cryptic?

  “According to them, there are five firms in the running. Each firm is to send their account executive on a camping trip to show how much he, or she, knows about camping and the equipment they sell.”

  She leaned back in her chair, deflated. “That leaves us out. I haven’t the first clue about camping.”

  Parker laughed. “Caroline’s idea of outdoor activity is a walk from her car to the mall.”

  The others around the large table smiled, but no one echoed Parker’s sentiments.

  She thought she even caught a hint of sympathy from one of the other junior account executives sitting opposite her.

  She frowned at Parker.

  “You go, then,” Caroline snapped at her cousin. Parker never let a moment pass if he could give her a dig.

  “Hey, it’s not my account,” he protested.

  Had he wished it were? Caroline wondered.

  If the agency signed them, it would be a large account. Her biggest if she nailed it.

  “It won’t be Caroline’s account, either, if she doesn’t go and demonstrate she’s familiar with the products. Western Trails wants the account exec to be conversant with all aspects of their products, and able to write glowing copy based on personal experience,” Thomas finished.

  She sighed and looked at her notes. The last time she’d thought about going hiking had been ten years ago when David had waxed poetic about the beauties of nature and the high he got pitting his skills against the wild. She knew next to nothing about camping in the wilderness or hiking mountains.

  She felt the familiar sting. She didn’t think very often about David anymore. She hadn’t seen him in ten years.

  But occasionally something reminded her of him and she mourned for all she’d lost.

  Thomas put down the paper and looked around the table.

  “I don’t think I need to tell any of you we’ve lost two major accounts in the last four months. Without a few new ones to balance those losses, we could be looking at drastically cutting corners in the near future and maybe laying off personnel.” His gaze rested on Caroline.

  She squirmed in her chair. Was he talking about letting her go? She knew she’d obtained the job because Thomas was her uncle and felt a responsibility to his dead brother’s family.

  But only for as long as it suited Thomas.

  If she couldn’t pull her weight, she’d be gone so fast her head would spin. She’d learned a lot over the last few years. Enough to get this deal? Not unless she somehow became a camping expert overnight.

  “I don’t know a thing about camping,” she protested.

  “Learn. The trip starts in two weeks. Bone up on everything you can between now and then and bring us back that account! We’re counting on you, Caroline. Your mother will be counting on you,” Thomas said.

  That had been unnecessary. Caroline knew more than anyone how much her mother counted on her.

  He passed her a packet. “Here is the information Western Trails sent. Nail the account!”

  Caroline quickly skimmed through the stack of papers. They were complete instructions for the camping trip. From the number of pages, Western Trails either planned a mammoth trip, or there was a lot more involved in camping than she suspected.

  She’d have to talk to her uncle after the meeting, make him see it would be foolish to expect her to impress some sports nut on her abilities. She resented his putting the welfare of the company on her shoulders. It was his company, not hers. She was merely a minor cog in the wheel.

  He could send Parker. She almost smiled at that picture. Wouldn’t her cousin love that? His idea of outdoor activity was watching a football game from the stands.

  Reality reared its head. She couldn’t afford to lose her job, but she wasn’t sure she could do this. Thomas couldn’t seriously expect her to impress anyone with her camping knowledge.

  Granted, her salary was generous, which went a long way in helping with her mother. But it didn’t buy her body and soul. She hadn’t a clue how to survive in the wilderness. Despite the slur of Parker’s caustic comment, he was right. She wasn’t a very active woman, preferring the quiet pursuits of listening to music or reading to stren
uous outdoor activities.

  Studying her nails, she tuned out Thomas’s voice as he moved to a new topic. She loved the fake nails she’d splurged on a few weeks ago. They made her feel successful. No one pinching pennies could afford such extravagances.

  Glancing at her skirt, she knew the short style suited her long legs. It was only in recent months she felt financially secure enough to indulge herself in small ways. It had been a long haul with exorbitant medical expenses to meet before she felt the least bit secure.

  Her mother had made enough negative comments about her indulgences to give Caroline some second thoughts. But the boost to her morale kept her renewing the nails as they grew and searching for bargains in trendy boutiques. She devoted her life to her mother and her job, a few splurges wouldn’t hurt.

  If she didn’t get the Western Trails account, however, she could probably kiss future fake nails and trendy skirts goodbye, she thought gloomily.

  Not to mention the nice apartment she and her mother now lived in, and all the other things that made up their current lifestyle.

  She wasn’t sure she’d get as generous a package at another ad agency even if she could quickly land a job elsewhere. Sometimes she thought her uncle had given her more chances than anyone else to make up for her father dying and her having to leave college.

  “Any questions?” Thomas was wrapping up the meeting.

  Caroline looked around and wondered what she’d missed. Nothing as important as what she was going to do about the Western Trails account.

  As the others left the conference room, Caroline lingered. “Thomas, we need to talk,” she said, catching him before he left.

  He looked tired, Caroline thought with astonishment. Her bluff, gruff uncle never looked tired. Were things worse than she knew?

  “Are you all right?” she asked, walking closer.

  “Of course. What do you wish to talk about?” He rested one hip on the edge of the polished conference table.

  “About Western Trails. Isn’t there someone else you can send? We don’t have a prayer if you’re depending on me. Parker could go. Or Jason,” she said desperately, naming one of the men who worked with her on some projects.

  He shook his head. “Honey, I know it’ll be a challenge, but bone up on camping from books or something. Talk to some of your friends who do that kind of thing. You’re strong enough. With all you do with your mother, you have more stamina than you suspect. We need that account.”

  He hesitated a moment, glancing through the opened door, then turned back to her.

  “We’re not doing well. The Western Trails account would go a long way to keeping us in the black this year. There are other projects in the works but none of the magnitude of this single account. Don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say the immediate future of the entire company could rest on your securing this account.”

  Great, just what she didn’t need was more stress. The fate of the entire company rested on her performance on some camping trip?

  Panic flared. She felt as she had all those years ago when she’d learned her father had crashed his car, killing himself and injuring Caroline’s mother. She’d responded without hesitation, assuming the burden of her mother’s care and comfort while suffering from her own personal loss.

  She’d made it through, though some days she’d wondered if she could. Once again she was being put on the spot, being asked to do the impossible.

  She didn’t think she was up to it.

  “What about Mother?” she asked, knowing this was a realistic obstacle.

  “Susan and I will ask her to stay with us. You’ll only be gone a week.”

  The assignment must truly be important if Aunt Susan was willing to have her mother stay with her for an entire week. The two women couldn’t stand each other. Susan was convinced Anna could fend for herself and took advantage of Caroline. And her mother didn’t like anyone who didn’t fawn over her.

  Caroline knew her mother was more self-centered than most people. But to be confined to a wheelchair for life and battling ill-health had to excuse some of her behavior.

  “I’ll do my best,” she said, resigned to the inevitable.

  “I hope it’s enough,” he said. “We’re depending on you, Caroline.”

  Once Caroline reached her small office, she closed the door and sat at the tall drafting table near the window that she used for her artwork. She loved designing ads and playing with graphic layouts and styles. Even copy writing could be fun.

  What she didn’t like were meetings with the clients. She’d never been good with small talk, and while friendly enough, she preferred her own company to wining and dining prospective clients who were often total strangers.

  Reluctantly she looked in more detail at the information her uncle had given her. The packet gave complete instructions as to what to bring from food and clothing, to sleeping attire and sun screen. It gave the location of where to meet, the planned itinerary, and how long the trip would last–a full week. It was signed by the director of marketing, Alan Osborne. Would Alan be the one leading the trip? The information sheet simply said a company representative would be present.

  Maybe they offered the trip to people in Western Trails who loved this kind of thing. People who relished sports jumped at the chance to work in sporting goods stores. How much more likely would some camping buff be to jump at a chance to get a week’s backpacking on company time?

  A full week of no showers or baths? Seven days of sleeping on the hard ground, eating who-knew-what out of vacuum-packed aluminum foil, and being 24/7 with strangers. It sounded like her worst nightmare.

  Could she manage to stay the course?

  She might as well throw in the towel now, she thought glumly, reading about all the things she was expected to carry. She’d need to be an elephant. And people voluntarily did this for fun?

  “And a good time was had by all,” she murmured. Not.

  How would she ever manage seven days in the wilderness with a bunch of strangers most of whom probably had been camping since they were children?

  She glanced at her pretty nails, ran her fingers through her hair. No hair dryer, no salon nearby if she chipped an acrylic nail. She couldn’t even expect phone coverage. The area they would be hiking in was remote, no cell service likely.

  How could she do it? She was a city girl through and through. When she wanted greenery, she went to the park.

  Yet, how could she say no? Her mother depended upon her and her salary. And if Uncle Thomas was to be believed, the fate of Foster and Prince also rested on her performance.

  “We who are about to die, salute you,” she said valiantly, and began to study the list of equipment and supplies she was to procure prior to meeting the other contenders two weeks from Saturday.

  The next Saturday Caroline entered the newly opened Seattle Western Trails store. The cavernous space was filled with items to delight the heart of any sports fan from Seahawk logos on T-shirts, sweatshirts, hats, mugs and key chains, to serious ski equipment. From golf equipment to soccer equipment, to a canoe and kayak section, the store seemed to carry everything.

  At least she didn’t have to learn to kayak in two weeks, she thought, grateful for small favors. She’d probably drown.

  “Can I help you?” An eager young man came up to her before she’d finished looking around.

  She smiled at him, hoping he wouldn’t find her totally hopeless. “I hope so. Some friends of mine are planning a camping trip and they’ve talked me into going. I’ve never been, so I need to get some gear. And maybe some hints.”

  Not wanting anyone to know who she was or why she was buying equipment, she’d decided on a cover story. She felt it only right to purchase her things from the company she was hoping to woo as a client, but didn’t want anyone knowing ahead of time she hadn’t a clue how to survive in the wilderness.

  “I have a list of things they suggested I bring,” she said. She fished out the handwritten list she’d careful
ly copied from the information sheet and handed it to the young man.

  He scanned it briefly.

  “Wow, you want everything. Even new hiking boots?” He looked doubtful. “You need to break them in before you begin a long hike. When do you leave?”

  “In a couple of weeks,” she said vaguely.

  Employees of Western Trails couldn’t possibly know of the demands their marketing department put on prospective advertising agencies, could they? Still, she was taking no chances.

  “Oh, good. You’ll have time then to break them in. Let’s see, I think we have everything you need.” He beamed at her and began walking toward an aisle.

  An hour and a half later, and several hundred dollars poorer, Caroline was set. As she contemplated the stack of clothing, bedding, cooking utensils, dried food packets and new hiking boots, she wondered how she would even get the things home, much less manage to pack them all in the backpack that balanced on top.

  She was expected to carry all that for a week?

  No wonder the instruction sheets urged participants to pack light. Could she manage with one set of clothes, a plate and spoon?

  While the happy salesclerk rang up the total, she looked around again.

  The new store was clean, bright and energetic. There were quite a few people shopping or browsing. The grand opening celebration would be in a few weeks. She had hoped to have the account sewn up by now, and devote some attention to a big media push for the event.

  However, business already looked brisk.

  Looking behind the counter Caroline caught her breath. There were two enlarged photos side by side. The founders of Western Trails the caption below them read. Caroline’s gaze never moved from the one on the left.

  David Tomlinson.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She stared at the once familiar face, a sinking sensation flooding through her.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Are those the founders of Western Trails?” she asked, though it was clearly stated beneath the portraits.