She went to the door and opened it, not bothering to check the peep hole first. "Oh." She blinked in surprise, finding not the stocky hospitality manager, but Ceci outside. "Hi."
"Hi." Ceci had her hands behind her back, and was looking quite diffident. "Can I come in?"
"Sure." Kerry backed up and let her past. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone, but you're always welcome."
"Mmm hmm." The diminutive woman strolled past. "Remember that after you find out why I'm here."
"Uh, oh." Kerry half chuckled. "Want some tea?"
Dar's mother nodded. "Love some. Nice shiner you have there." She came closer and examined Kerry's face. "Don't suppose I can talk you two into croquet or something equally benign instead, huh?"
"Ah. So you know all about what happened, huh?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Dar send you here?" Kerry hazarded.
"Mmm hmm." Ceci nodded. "Me being the only mother she knows in the area, yes. She asked me to come over here and practice my nonexistent maternal skills on you." She gave Kerry a wry grin. "So why not let me get the tea, and you rest your head so I can say I tried. Hmm?"
Kerry walked over to the couch and sat down extending her legs along its length. "Sure," she agreed amiably. "I'll get her back later."
Ceci gave her a big thumb up and disappeared into the kitchen.
"You little stinker wench." Kerry addressed the ceiling. "I will get you later. Just wait." She reached for the remote control and flipped on the television, picking a channel at random and settling back to watch.
Ah well. It could be worse. Kerry eyed the door to the kitchen. It could be my mother.
THE REPORTER ENTERED behind Maria and followed her over to Dar's desk. She was a tall, poised black woman with striking good looks, and she met Dar's firm handshake with one of her own before she took the proffered seat.
"Thanks, Maria." Dar returned to her chair and dropped into it. "So, Ms. Cruickshank, what is it you'd like to talk about?" She leaned back and steepled her fingers, watching the reporter as she settled herself in her chair and took out a notepad.
Notepad. Dar's eyebrow twitched. The last few times she'd been interviewed, it'd been with at the very least, a tape recorder. It was interesting that the reporter had chosen to stick with the basics in the local headquarters of one of the most highly technical companies in the world.
"What would I like to talk about?" The reporter repeated, in a quietly cordial tone. "Well, Ms. Roberts, as you may know, some of my colleagues are working very hard to make a documentary about Peter Quest's effort to re-establish American cruising." She studied her pad and then looked up at Dar. "Everyone keeps trying to cast you as the bad guy."
Dar smiled cheerfully at her.
"Are you the bad guy?" She asked. "From the research I've done, your image wanders from Cruella deVil to Joan of Arc, depending on the time of day and phase of the moon or who I've talked to." She leaned forward a little. "So what's the real scoop?"
Joan of Arc? Dar's eyes widened a trifle. "I'm not sure there is a scoop," she replied. "I'm just here to do a job. I don't employ any bizarre tactics, just decent business sense, and the time I invest in acquainting myself with the newest technology."
Cruicshank scribbled a note. "Well, let me tell you what I've got here on you, and then you can tell me if you still think you're not a news item." She flipped a page over. "You're a Florida native."
"Mm." Dar gave an agreeable grunt. "That's pretty newsworthy, I guess."
The reporter smiled. "So I hear. You grew up on Navy bases, right?"
Dar nodded.
"You've only worked for one company, that being this one and you joined ILS when you were...fifteen?"
Dar nodded again. "I think that makes me more boring than scoop." She remarked. "I never saw any reason to change companies. I just kept changing jobs within this one."
The reporter made another note. "Do you like your job?" She studied Dar's face. "The one you have now, I mean?"
For a moment Dar almost considered answering honestly, then she reviewed the issue and realized there were some things even she couldn't get away with. "Most of the time, yes." She finally responded. "I can do without publicity seeking monkeys trying to make me look bad every couple of hours, but in general, yeah. I like what I do."
Cruicshank looked intrigued. "Is that what you consider your competitors? Publicity seeking monkeys?"
"Well," Dar met her gaze squarely, "I can tell you I've never asked a news crew to hang off my ass during any of my business deals. I've also never rigged a convention for failure so I could come in and save the day to make press, or tried to bug my rivals."
The reporter straightened up and looked really intrigued. "Some people would say that's just smart competition."
"Some people are morons." Dar replied. "I find it easier just to be very good at what I do, and save the fun and games for the weekends."
They looked at each other for a moment then the reporter grinned. "You know what, Ms. Roberts?"
Dar raised her eyebrows in question.
"You're my kind of bad guy." She told her. "Can I buy you lunch?"
Dar was peculiar about lunch. She liked to either grab something at her desk, or if Kerry was there and not busy, have lunch with her. It was a chance to wind down for a few minutes in either case and de-stress in the middle of the day.
However, since Kerry wasn't here, and this was at least an opportunity to make an impression, Dar decided she'd make an exception. "Sure." She agreed. "You'll get out easy. The rest of your bunch has to spend whole days with my competition."
The woman chuckled. "Now, as a professional journalist, I have to keep neutral, Ms. Roberts, so I certainly can't pass along to you any of the comments of my colleagues." She paused, and let the words simply saunter off with their meaning fully intact. "But I'm sure we can find something else to discuss."
Dar checked the time on the computer screen. "Probably, but it needs to be now, because I've got conferences starting in an hour and a half." She got up, pausing only to type a quick message and send it. "What's your poison?"
"Anything." The reporter responded promptly.
Dar looked up, with a devilish grin and watched the woman wince.
"Oh, I should not have said that." Cruicshank mourned. "I just know I'm going to end up regretting it. The one thing everyone agrees on is that you have a very twisted sense of humor."
"Nah." Dar gestured toward the door. "Most people think I don't have one at all." She locked her PC and came around the desk. "There's a sushi place next door that's fast and something less than noisy."
"Phew." The reporter followed her out. "I decided to try a little place near my hotel yesterday and boy did I end up regretting it. I think the grease inside was older than I am."
Dar held the door then went out after her. "Sounds like a place I'd love." She cheerfully stated giving Maria a brief wave. "Lunch."
Maria waved back, then cleared her throat a bit. "Dar, by any chance did you speak with..."
"Yes, she's fine, she doesn't need anything, she wishes she were here, and I sent my mother over to keep her company." Dar rattled off on her way to the outer door. "But if you want to send her chocolate ice cream, go for it."
Maria covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, as she watched them leave. She shook her head, then turned to flip through her phone directory until she found the number she was looking for. Just as she was about to dial, the outer door opened again and Mayte slipped inside. "Bueno. I am glad you are here. Please pay attention, so you know the next time what to do, yes?"