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Better Than New Ch. 01

By: coaster2



Better Than New

Act 1

Wednesday, June 17th, 6:15pm

I dropped down into the booth with a sigh. The cushioned seat padding took the brunt of the impact. I nodded to Paul, with a miserable attempt at a smile, picked up the waiting beer and took a healthy gulp.

"So ... it's finally done?" he asked.

"Yep. All the t's crossed and the i's dotted. I'm officially a bachelor as of today," I said sullenly.

Paul was never one to talk a lot, but when he had something to say ... he said it.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," holding his glass up and waiting for my acknowledgement.

"I suppose."

We were silent for a few moments, just staring at the beer glasses rather than each other.

"You know, for a woman that didn't think I'd amounted to much, her fuckin' bitch lawyer was prepared to strip me to the bone for every last dime. Thank God I had Manny on my side. He gives as good as he gets. At least I have the shirt on my back, a place to live, and still own most of my own business."

"Small mercies," my friend offered. Another silence until, "Want some good news?"

"Shoot."

"I've finished your website and it's ready to go. Wanna look?"

"Sure."

He picked up a laptop from beside him and opened it. With a couple of keystrokes, the screen lit up and he turned it toward me. Better Than New was bannered across the top in multi-color script. Several collector automobiles formed a montage along the bottom. There was only one button to click: Enter.

As the next page opened, I looked at it carefully. "Nice work, Paul. You've got everything I asked for here. Thank you. What do I owe you?"

"Another beer will do it."

"Bullshit. You've put hours into this. Come on ... how much?"

"Look Val, you don't need any more bills. That lawyer of yours is going to keep you working for a while just to pay him off. I did this for a friend. You never know, I may need a fender pounded out some day when I'm a little short. Let's leave it at that, okay?"

I nodded reluctantly and raised my glass once more. "Here's to good friends."

We ordered a burger and another beer as we talked about anything but my divorce.

"So what are you doing to keep yourself entertained," I asked. "Still dating Yvonne?"

"Off and on. I don't think she's that interested in me, but ... she never turns down a date or a free meal. Kind of friends with benefits and no strings."

"Yeah ... I get that. Maybe that's what I should be lookin' for. No strings."

"Has its advantages."

"How's the job?"

"Good. Being a techno-nerd isn't as bad as you'd think. Lots of damsels in distress need rescuing each day. Since I don't have a pocket protector, horned-rim glasses, or a dorky wardrobe, I do all right," he grinned.

"Played any golf lately?"

"Yeah. Got in a round at Sunnydale last Saturday. Shot a decent 97. Not bad for me." Sunnydale was a local public course in San Rafael; wide, fairly flat, and kept in good condition despite being heavily played.

"Maybe I'll join you next weekend. I could use a couple of days off."

"Good idea. Why don't I get a tee time for Saturday morning ... around ten if I can? The weather should be good. After all, this is California."

"Perfect." 



Friday, June 19th, 7:00am

"Mornin', Boss."

"Mornin', Tommy. Got a minute?"

"Be right there," he chirped, setting down his tool box and following me into my office."

"Think you could do without me tomorrow morning?"

"Oh ... it'll be hard, but ... I guess we can struggle through," he grinned.

"Thanks. I need some R & R after the last few months. I've been hanging out around here too much."

"How many times have I told you that you were spendin' too much time in this place? It's a great place to work, Val, but you shouldn't be livin' here."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anyway, have we got anything that's urgent?"

"Nothin' you don't know about. McAllister's BMW is going to the paint booth this morning. I made arrangements for him to pick it up tomorrow morning. The new fender for that '55 Chevy arrived last night. Doug will get it on his rounds. Other than that, we got a full shop and all hands on deck."

"Good. Thanks for looking after things for the last while. I know I haven't always been here ... physically or mentally."

"Look, Val, you went through a hell of a time. The only things I'm worried about are your health and how much of this business did your ex-wife get. Both of those things relate to my future, you know."

I laughed at Tommy. "Relax, she only got fifteen percent, and I'll be fine. Tomorrow is a golf day with my friend. Satisfied?"

"Yeah. That's a relief. The ownership thing, I mean. She'd sell this place in a heartbeat if she could."

"Ain't going to happen. In fact, one of these days, I'm going to buy her fifteen percent out."

"That's what I wanted to hear," he smiled. 

"In the meantime, have a look at this," I said, turning to my desktop computer. I booted up the new website and turned the monitor toward him."

"Jeez, boss. That looks great. Real professional too."

"Yeah ... my friend, Paul, did it for me. I think it'll be good for us. Especially all the testimonials along-side the cars that are pictured. With any luck, a lot of our customers are going to want to have their cars featured, so we can keep adding to the site as we go."

"Man ... that's cool. We're in the big time now," he said, holding up his hand for a high-five.

"Yeah ... I guess we are," I agreed, smacking his hand.



Saturday, June 20th, 10:24am

"Was this your idea, pal?" I asked quietly.

"Nope. Pure luck," Paul grinned.

We had been paired with two women, somewhat younger than us, and reasonably attractive. From what I could see of their clothes and clubs, they weren't beginners. They had rented an electric cart, while Paul and I chose to carry and walk.

"Hi, I'm Paul Johnston and this is Val Keating."

"I'm Doreen," one said softly.

"And I'm Carolyn Findlay."

Doreen with no last name was a leggy brunette with a lovely figure and a nice face. Too bad she wasn't smiling. Carolyn was a short blonde with a round, almost chubby face, a full body, and a nice smile. I could see the drool forming at the corners of Paul's mouth as he looked over the blonde.

"You play here often?" I asked Doreen.

"No ... not really. If Carolyn hadn't asked me, I probably wouldn't be here today. My golf game is pretty erratic."

"Well, I guess that matches up with me, then. Paul is the one who convinced me to take a day off and play. I'm not likely to break a hundred."

She looked at me with what I took to be suspicion, but said nothing. She still hadn't smiled.

We were standing behind the first tee, waiting for our foursome to be announced. The group ahead had already teed off, and we walked to the tee as our group was called.

"Next on the first tee, Johnston and Findlay foursome."

"Ladies, Paul and I are playing the white tees. Should I assume you are playing the reds?"

"You should assume," Carolyn said with a grin. Doreen still hadn't cracked a smile.

Paul hit his drive, a fade down the right side into the rough. I concentrated on watching the club head hit the ball and was rewarded with a mediocre drive, but on the fairway to the right. We walked up to the red tees to watch the women.

Carolyn had a nice easy swing, and punched the ball out about 175 down the middle. Doreen wasn't as fortunate. She seemed to be uptight as she addressed the ball, probably thinking about too many different things, just as I used to do. Her quick swing produced a low "worm burner" about eighty or ninety yards off the tee.

"Shit!" she spat as she picked up her tee and stomped off to the cart, slamming her club into her bag.

Great, I thought. This was going to be a real fun game. I glanced over at Paul, but he was smiling as he watched Carolyn walk to the cart. I was always surprised at how seldom things like this bothered him. 

Doreen's second shot was much better; a fairway metal down the middle.

"Nice shot. That will help a lot," I volunteered.

She turned to me and I saw, for the first time, the faintest hint of a smile.

"Thanks. I hate screwing up my first tee shot."

By the sixth hole, we were talking to each other. She wore no rings, so I guessed she was single, but that was just a guess. She might have taken them off to play. I found out she and Carolyn worked at the same company, Beeson's. It was once the biggest employer in the area. Doreen was the office manager and Carolyn was an accountant. I knew the Beeson name well. My ex-wife worked there.

"What do you do, Val?" Doreen finally asked me.

"I own a body shop. I repair and restore cars and trucks. Not very glamorous," I admitted.

"How many employees?"

"Ten, counting me. Six in body repair, three in restoration, and one in the paint booth."

She hit her next drive, and with a more relaxed attitude, she hit it well.

"Another nice one," I complimented.

This time I got a real smile, her first. "Thanks."

I had been watching Paul and Carolyn as we went along. They were getting along very well. I don't think either of them had their mind on golf, but they didn't seem to care. We could hear Carolyn's high-pitched laughter regularly as they talked.

"You noticed that too, huh," Doreen remarked with a grin.

"Hard to miss. Looks like they're getting along just fine without us."

"What does your friend do besides hustle the ladies?"

"Believe it or not, he's a nerd. He's the IT manager for AMR."

"Really! He sure doesn't look or act like any nerd I know."

"Nope. Just goes to show how stereotypes can be wrong."

"You two guys seem like the odd couple. I mean, a body shop guy and a techie."

"Whoa, now I'm offended," I said in mock disgust. "I have a complete education and a substantial vocabulary. I ain't no ordinary fender-pounder."

She shrank back for a moment at my comment before recognizing I was teasing her. I saw her exhale and show a rueful, apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to ...."

"No need. We are an odd couple. We've been friends for years. We went to high school and college together, both of us on the swim team."

"So how did you end up in your business?"

"My father had a service station with a small repair shop attached. He did engine and mechanical work, which he loved, and farmed out the body work, which he hated. From the time I was fourteen, I worked my summer vacations for him. When the body shop was short of men, I would go over and help. Pretty soon, I was doing some of the work and learning from the pros."

I stopped, picked a six iron out of my bag and hit the shot to the left, over the green. I looked at Doreen and shrugged, dropping the club back into the bag. She walked a few paces ahead, hit a nice five iron to the front fringe and returned to the cart.

"That'll work. Easy putt from there," I encouraged.

I got another smile and a thank-you. We were doing much better at talking to each other now.

I knocked my chip ten feet past the pin and missed the putt coming back. Pretty much the story of my short game. I would struggle to break a hundred today. Doreen hit a nice putt just wide of the hole and had a gimme for a par, her first one of the day. 

"Hey ... that's a par. Nice going," I called.

"Yippee!" she shouted, just now realizing it was a par. "I haven't had one of those in ages."

Carolyn chimed with her congratulations along with Paul. I seriously doubt if they knew which shot they were hitting, much less what hole they were on. They appeared to be too busy getting to know each other. I suspected Paul of playing his shots near where Carolyn's were, just to stay close. Carolyn was driving the cart, and Paul was now hitching a ride between shots as Doreen preferred to walk with me, despite the extra effort of walking to the cart for her clubs.

"They're having a good time," Doreen said as she watched them.

"How about you? Better than when we started, maybe?"

She turned and smiled at me. "Yeah. Better."

"You were telling me about how you got into the business," Doreen said as we stood on the next tee box.

"Well, I found I liked the body shop and after a while, I got good at it. I guess I had a knack for it. Dad and I talked about a partnership. He would be the mechanic ... the engine man, and I would be the body man. I thought about it for a while, then we sat down and worked it out. We had to keep them separate. We were quite different in our approaches. I like clean and tidy, he didn't care about cosmetics. I wanted to expand the business into restorations, he was satisfied with what he had. In the end, I set up my business separately from his, and it's been that way ever since."

"Do you and your dad get along?"

"Yup. We're doing fine. He has his place and I have mine. If I have a restoration that needs engine or mechanical work, I farm it out to him. I know I'm going to get a good job from him. On the other hand, if he has body work, he sends the customer to me. It works pretty well, all things considered."

"Nice. What do you call your business?"

"Better Than New. Dad always had the slogan 'Good as New' at the garage, but when I started the business, I wanted people to feel they were getting more than their money's worth. I had finished the restoration of a pre-war International truck and was showing it at one of the local malls as a business display. There was an older gentleman there looking at my work very carefully. I found out he used to own one of the same models and he was very impressed with my effort. He told me I should go into the restoration business seriously. He said my product was better than new. That's how the name came about."

I wonder if Doreen knew how nice her smile was and much it improved her appearance. She seemed so serious much of the time.

We made a quick stop at the tenth hole shack for a soft drink and a sandwich, then carried on.

"So ... tell me about your job. You're an office manager. That's a fairly important role in most businesses."

"Nice title, mediocre pay, plenty of hassles. I think I got the job because they figured I had the thickest hide."

"Oh." I wasn't about to invade the topic any further without her volunteering. Fortunately, she did.

"I'll tell you a secret, Val, but if you tell anyone what I said, I'll have to have you killed."

I jumped back in mock fear. "Maybe I shouldn't hear this," I said.

She laughed. "I have the same number of people to supervise as you do. One difference though; mine are all women. There is nothing worse than supervising an all-female staff in my opinion. Between PMS and the catty infighting, it drives me crazy trying to get them to work together in harmony. If they aren't complaining about their hours or salary, they're bitching about their husbands or boyfriends."

I attempted to suppress a laugh. "Sorry, I know it isn't funny. I was never sure whether the 'P' in PMS stood for pre or post."

"I think it ought to stand for perpetual," she snorted. 

I laughed again. It was good to see her show a sense of humor.

We got backed up on a couple of par 3 holes, and had a chance to talk about a number of things related to our businesses. We both avoided any personal probing. I learned she was very bright, college educated, with a good business understanding and a solid background in business computer software. I wondered if her talents weren't wasted on her present employer, especially the way she felt about her staff.

"You don't sound terribly satisfied with your current job. Do you have some résumés out?"

"Yeah. A couple. I'd like to find something that would let me use my brain and my education. Right now I feel like I'm herding cats."

I burst out laughing once more, and this time she joined me. As she opened up, I was beginning to see a much more attractive woman, and certainly a more interesting one. 

The game ended with my shooting a sizzling 103, Doreen a 98, Paul a 101, and Carolyn a 110. Not exactly ripping up the course, but we did have fun with our new acquaintances. Ten minutes later we were sitting outside at the restaurant.

"Congratulations, Doreen. Can we humble runners-up buy you ladies a refreshment?" Paul asked.

The two women looked at each other. Carolyn was the first to respond. "Sure."

We found a table and Paul and I went to the bar to fill the orders. 

"Here you go, girls. Wine coolers for you and the traditional beer for us," Paul grinned.

"Thanks, guys. That was a lot of fun. I'm glad we met up with you this morning. Looks like we all play the same kind of golf," Carolyn said.

"All except Doreen. She beat us all soundly," I joked.

"See ... women can play this game," Carolyn laughed.

"Just a bit of good luck. Hey, I had two pars today. That's a new record for me," Doreen enthused.

"Good for you. You played very well after you loosened up," I said, almost instantly regretting how it might have sounded.

Doreen looked at me for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. It did take me a few holes to feel comfortable."

"Is that because of us?" I asked, trying not to be confrontational.

Again, she gave me the 'look,' "Maybe. I thought you two might be a couple of hot shots that would make us look bad."

"Well, I guess you saw that wasn't the case pretty quickly," Paul laughed.

"Yeah. Well ... anyway ... I had a good time, and you guys were good to play with," Doreen said, facing me.

"Thanks. Maybe we can do it again sometime," Paul ventured.

"Maybe," Carolyn grinned.

I reached for my wallet and pulled out one of my business cards, pushing it across the table to Doreen.

"That's my card. If you'd like to e-mail your résumé, my web address is on there. Otherwise, drop it by the shop and I'll show you around if you're interested."

"Are you looking for an office manager?" she asked.

"No. Not an office manager. But you never know. I may know of an opening that might suit you ... if you were interested."

Again, that semi-stare of hers, like she was trying to measure me ... or figure out what I was up to. At that moment, I was doing the same thing with myself. What was I up to?

"Okay. Thanks," she said, putting the card in her pocket.

Again, we thanked them for their companionship, and said goodbye.

"You get Doreen's phone number?" Paul asked as we got in the car.

"No. Didn't think of it."

"That's because you aren't thinking like a single guy yet."

"Could be. It looked like you got Carolyn's number, though."

"Oh yeah, I got that early. We're having dinner tonight, and then ... well ... who knows," he grinned.

"You don't waste any time, do you?"

"I knew within fifteen minutes that she was hot to trot. She packs a few extra pounds on her, but most of them are in very interesting places."

I shook my head. "You're right. I'm not thinking like a single guy. I think I've forgotten more than I remember about dating."

"This isn't dating, man ... this is hooking up," he smirked. "Dating comes when I decide if I want to get to know her even better."

"I think you and I have very different approaches."

"So, what did you think of Doreen? She seemed pretty uptight to me. Like you said, it took a while for her to lighten up." 

"I thought we were in for a long afternoon when we first met, but after a while, she kind of relaxed and started to be herself. She seemed very suspicious of us ... me anyway. She might have some guy issues from a previous encounter."

"Yeah. That's possible. What was the business card thing all about?"

"Well, it was one way for her to get a hold of me if she wanted to. Also, she mentioned she wasn't very happy in her current job. I got the impression she could do a lot more than just run an office full of women. It got me thinking about what I needed to expand the business again. I was thinking more of an administrative manager than an office manager."


Better Than New Ch. 01



"She doesn't know squat about autobody I'll bet."

"No ... but that's not necessarily a deal breaker. I need some organizational skills just as much as shop talent. I'm doing everything myself, as you already know. She might be the right combination, plus strong enough to work in an all-male environment. Just thinkin' right now."



Thursday, June 25th, 11:45am

"Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Oh ... uhhm ... Hi Val, it's Doreen Gordon. We met at the golf course last Saturday."

"Yes, of course. How are you, Doreen?"

"Fine. I mean, okay, but to be honest, I'm about at my wit's end with this job. You said you might know about something that would suit me better. I wonder if we could meet and talk about it."

"Absolutely. What's convenient for you?"

"Well, I'd really rather not make it obvious around here that I'm looking. Can we meet after hours?"

"Sure, I understand. Look, why don't you come to the shop on Saturday morning, about ten o'clock. I can show you around and we can talk. Will that work for you?"

"Yes. That will be fine. Do I understand that this job would be at your company?"

"Yes. I'll tell you what I'm thinking when we meet. I think you've got the right credentials to handle what I'm looking for. It's just a matter of whether we both think it's a good fit."

"All right. I'll see you on Saturday morning at ten."

"I'll be here. Thanks for calling."

I sat back in my chair and allowed myself a small smile. She had called me on my invitation, and now it was up to me to spit out what I was thinking. I had better get my act together before she showed up.



Saturday, June 27th, 9:50am

"Good morning," I said with a big smile as Doreen stepped into the office.

"Hi. I'm a bit early. I can wait if you're busy," she hastened, her face revealing a nervous look.

"No ... no, you're fine. Come in and have a seat," I said, gesturing toward a comfortable chair across the desk from me.

She sat and pushed what appeared to be a résumé across the desk to me, and I picked it up.

"Sounds like you've had a tough week when you called."

"Yes, although I suppose once I thought about quitting and changing jobs, my tolerance threshold dropped. I'm pretty certain I won't be there by the end of this year."

"How long have you worked for them?"

"Nearly ten years. I've been the office manager for just about three years."

"Has it always been like the way it is now?"

"My promotion brought it to a head. When I first started, I thought I could change it. Make it better. But ... I guess that isn't something I'm good at. I've tried every approach I can think of, but nothing seems to change. I think part of the problem is that Beeson isn't doing very well in this economy, and that puts pressure on everyone from the top down."

"Yeah, I know the company. Warren Beeson II owns it, but lets his son Warren III run it."

"Exactly. He's no genius. Wanders around like he's king of the hill most of the time. His father ought to kick his butt out and run it himself again."

I laughed. "Sounds like you have the same opinion of 'Trip' that I do."

"How do you know him?"

"Oh, it's a long story. I'll tell you about it some time. Anyway, we were going to talk about an opportunity for you, not your boss," I grinned.

"Yes. Let's ... please." Damn, that woman lit up when she smiled.

"First, I want to take you on a tour of the operation. When we're done, I'll tell you what I'm thinking and you can tell me what you think. That okay?"

She stood. "Let's go." 

Doreen was relaxed and inquisitive as I led her through the three shops. We had six cars in the autobody area, all in various states of repair.

"Val ... this isn't anything like what I thought an autobody shop would be like. It's so clean ... and the floor."

"Yes ... well ... that's all part of the strategy. When the customer sees the shop, it's the first impression he or she gets. I want them to think that they're going to get special care, even if it's only pounding out a few dents. The last thing we do every day is clean up and put all the tools away."

"Well, it works. These floors are immaculate, and the workbenches too. It's not what I expected."

"Good. Glad to hear it," I said, watching her carefully. "The restoration room is over here," I said, sliding the big door open far enough for us to walk through.

Doreen stopped and looked around. There were four cars in the restoration shop. A 1955 Chev Bel Aire, a 1964 Pontiac GTO, a 1954 MG TF, and a 1935 DeSoto Airflow. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the Airflow.

"What is that?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

"It's a fairly rare DeSoto Airflow. Very few of them still around. They were only made for a couple of years. Too modern for the times, they said. It's just about finished and ready for our customer. It isn't pretty by today's standards, but the owner likes it, so that's what counts."

"It's incredible. The silver paint, and all the chrome. It looks like it's never been driven."

"Oh, it's been driven all right. If I remember rightly, it had over 200,000 miles on it when we got it. Pretty much had to build it up from scratch after we got all the rust out of it. But, the owner insisted and was willing to pay the cost, so six months later, here it is."

"It's beautiful in a strange kind of way. It looks so perfect. What did it cost to restore?"

"Well, that's confidential, but let's just say well into six figures."

"Oh my. I guess if you have to put that much work into it, you have to charge those kinds of prices."

"Pretty much. Not all of them are as big a project. The GTO and the Chev are fairly simple 'resto's'. The MG is going to be trickier. They weren't very well made and are very fussy to work on. But, the owner is in love with it, so here it is, ready for a major face lift."

"Is this business profitable?"

"Yes. Very much so. It has to be. Too many man hours invested for it not to be. I've learned the hard way how much to charge and how to estimate properly. No substitute for experience."

"It's so much more fascinating than just repairing damaged cars. These cars are all special, aren't they?"

"Yes ... certainly to their owners."

"What do you drive?" she asked suddenly, turning to me.

"I have a customized 1947 Chevy Panel Van that my father and I built. I use it for business and a bit of advertising. I also have an E type Jaguar Coupe that I keep at home for myself. I bought it off a guy who got fed up with all the maintenance problems, so I got it at a bargain price."

"So now you have all the maintenance and problems," she taunted.

"No ... well ... I modernized it. From the outside, you can't tell it from the stock production E type. But it has better brakes, electrics, engine, transmission, and a few other things. Now it's a nice ride without the problems."

She continued to wander through the restoration-shop, clearly very interested. I could see the light in her eyes and knew she was fascinated with this part of the business.

"I can't get over how clean everything is. You'd think there'd be dust and dirt with all the work that has to be done, but there's very little even while the guys are working."

"It would be like that if we didn't get after it all day, every day. It took a while for the guys to buy into keeping the shop super-clean, but after a while they realized it was a better place to work because of it, and the customers were impressed as well. It gave them a sense that they were an elite work force. That's what I really wanted to have happen, and luckily for me, it has."

"I don't think luck had much to do with it, Val," Doreen said. "I think you knew what you wanted and just kept with it until you got it."

I shrugged, "Maybe so."

We made a quick stop at the paint booth and watched our man masking off a repaired quarter-panel. 

"We have computer color matching equipment," I explained. "You want to frustrate a customer, all you have to do is fix the bodywork and then not have the paint come out as an exact match. It stands out like a sore thumb and no amount of explaining ever makes it right. These days there's no excuse for it, so we make sure it's right before we turn it over to the customer."

She smiled as she listened. I was hitting all the right notes I gathered. 

"Let's go to the office and talk," I said, leading the way.

Doreen seated herself and I took my place behind the desk.

"Well, what do you think of our operation?"

"It's not what I expected. Completely different and very clean. It looks like a good place to work ... for the men."

"That's the idea. I expect and demand high standards, so I have to support that any way I can."

"What exactly are you looking for ... I mean ... I guess I'm asking ... why am I here?"

"First of all, you're here because I think you have skills that haven't been used in your present job. I think you're capable of more than just 'herding cats,'" I grinned.

"Second, I need an administrative manager. Someone who will be my right hand and in charge when I'm not around. I intend to expand the business, and right now I'm trying to do too many things myself.

"And third, you've made it plain that you're not happy at Beeson, so you're available. That only leaves one question. Are you interested?"

"Yes ... I am interested ... but ... I don't know anything about this business. It's fascinating, I admit, but ... I'd be starting from square one. I don't know how much use I'd be for a while."

"I know all that, but keep in mind that most businesses are run the same way. They require organization and leadership. Too much of my time is spent on organization, so that's where you'd come in. Scheduling work, ordering parts, making sure the paperwork gets done. You don't have to worry about estimating or hiring and firing.

"I will want you to learn the business as you go. At some point, I want you to have all the know-how that I do. Maybe not the experience, but at least the basic knowledge of how the work is done."

"All right, I can understand that. We haven't discussed salary."

"You would start at $40,000 per year. There would be a full benefits package plus profit sharing at year end. If you started at the beginning of July, you would be entitled to a half share. There would be a review at three months with a small raise, and another at six months, again with a raise. After that, the review would be annual on your hiring anniversary. I think everyone should know how they are doing on a regular basis."

"That's very generous. It's certainly better than I'm doing now, and the job looks like it will challenge me. Can I have a day or two to think it over?"

"Of course. Talk to me next week. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to call me. Don't leave anything to chance. If you're uncertain, ask."

"Thank you. I'll call you early next week."

"I'll look forward to it. I hope you decide to join us. I think you'll make a great addition."

I watched as she left and went to her car. She drove an older model Camry. It looked like it could use some time in our shop, I thought. As I picked up her résumé I wondered to myself what made me so impulsive as to offer her this job. A job that didn't exist until this morning. She had the qualifications. I could see that on her résumé. I was semi-confident of her toughness. It would remain to be seen if she could learn the business. In the back of my mind, I was fairly sure she would accept the job. The look in her eyes as I took her around the shop floor spoke volumes.



Monday, June 29th, 7:55am

"Good morning, Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Hi, Val. It's Doreen."

"Hi. How was your weekend?"

"Fine. I spent a lot of it wondering if I was up to the job you offered. It's going to be a big challenge, but if you're still willing, I'd like to try."

"Good. I'm glad you decided in our favor. How much notice do you have to give Beeson?"

"Two weeks. I'll be handing it in this morning. I can start on the 13th, if that's okay."

"That will be fine. Did you have any questions?"

"Yes. I wondered if it would be all right if I came in on Saturday morning, the 11th, to get acclimatized and meet some of your people."

"That's a hell of a good idea. We're closed for the holiday next weekend or we could do it then. I'll introduce you to our guys, and we can go over some of the basics before you get dropped in the dunk tank," I laughed.

"Oh, good. I'm really going to be feeling my way at first, so any help you or the men can give me will be appreciated."

"All right. I'm really pleased you're joining us. I have a feeling you'll do very well here. I'll see you Saturday morning the 11th then."

I hung up and leaned back in my chair. I had no reason to feel as confident as I did, but there it was. I wanted her in the business and I got her. 



Friday, July 4th, 12:00pm

"So you hired her then?" Paul said, sipping his beer. We had just finished an early round of golf.

"Yup. I admit, it's all on instinct, but I have a hunch I've made a good decision. I've needed someone to back me up, and time will tell if she can handle it."

"No doubt about that. Ever since Monica left, you've done nothing but work. Maybe now you can get yourself a social life."

"No rush for that. The last one didn't work out so well."

"Val ... you've got to get past that. She shit on you from dizzy heights, but she's gone and you're a free man. When was the last time you got laid?"

"Christ ... I don't know. November last year, thereabouts."

"Man, my cock would die and fall off if I went that long."

"How are you doing these days? Still hanging out with Yvonne?"

"No ... I haven't seen her in a month. I've been seeing Carolyn."

"Carolyn! You mean Doreen's friend Carolyn?"

"Yeah. We seem to get on great, so I've been dating her. In fact, I've got to get going. I'm meeting her at the fairgrounds at one o'clock."

"Well, well, well. So it wasn't just a simple hook-up then?"

He shrugged, showed me a wrinkled smile and rose from his chair. "Good luck with Doreen. I hope she's what you're looking for."

"Thanks. Good luck with Carolyn. Maybe she's what you're looking for."

"You never know," he grinned.

I leaned back and sipped my beer, idly watching the golfers on the first and tenth tees. I jumped in surprise when I heard the scrape of metal on the concrete as someone pulled out a chair from beside me. I looked up and saw Doreen.

"Hi. Mind if I join you?" she asked.

"No, of course not," I said, standing. "Are you here alone?"

"Yeah. Carolyn's gone off with your friend Paul somewhere this afternoon. I was driving by and thought I'd stop in for a sandwich."

"Great. Paul's just left. Said he was meeting Carolyn at the fairgrounds. We just finished a round, so I was going to get something to eat too. Let's go," I said, leading her to the restaurant.

I ordered another beer, Doreen order an orange cooler, and we both chose a ham and cheese sandwich and a bag of chips. I paid for it with some protest from Doreen.

"So how did the announcement that you were leaving go down?"

"Not bad except for Warren. What a jerk. He was telling me I'd be crawling back begging for my old job in less than a month. Fat chance."

I chuckled, "I was kind of hoping he'd waive the two week notice and you could start right away."

"You laugh, but he almost did. Then he remembered he didn't have anyone to replace me. He damn near choked at that. I wish he had. Man ... he's nothing like his father. The old man was class all the way. How the hell could he raise a son like that?"

I shook my head. "I've known Trip since he was in grade eight. He's always been that way. His father was an important employer and a big deal at the Chamber of Commerce, and that little shit never let us forget it. I think the best thing about graduating from high school was losing him. We went to different colleges."

"So that's where your attitude comes from," she laughed.

"Oh ... that's not the only place. I only got rid of him for four years. When I came back here, he did too. Daddy was going to make him president. He'd get his picture in the local paper and attend the Chamber meetings. He was a real big deal in his mind."

Doreen was watching me carefully. "Why do I get the feeling there's more to it than that."

I didn't look at her and I didn't answer her.

"How about we change the topic? This is too nice a day and you're good company."

"I was going to tell you that when I resigned, Carolyn made it known that she might be next. She's no happier there than I am. She says Warren's bad-mouthing about the business and how lousy things are is bullshit. He's just trying to keep the slaves in line."

"I believe that. It's just like him. I can only assume his father doesn't know what he says and does from day to day. I don't think he'd appreciate Trip telling everyone the business is in trouble. His banker hears about that and it could mean problems for him. He probably relies on a solid line of credit to keep both the manufacturing and the retail ends operating. Shows you what a shallow thinker Trip is."

"You really don't have much use for him, do you?" she chortled.

"Nope. None. I thought we were going to change the topic?" I said in mock exasperation.

"It's more fun watching you vent."

"Glad I could provide some entertainment." It was hard to fake being grumpy. Doreen was the opposite of the first time we met. She was playful, and smiling a whole lot. 

"Speaking of Carolyn, Paul says he's been dating her lately."

"Yes. I hope he doesn't hurt her. She's been waiting for 'Mr. Right' for a long time. I'm not sure Paul's the guy, but she's telling me how much fun they have together."

"Paul's never been married. He's a long-time friend. I've known him since grade nine and we've been best buddies since. He won't deliberately hurt Carolyn. He's pretty honest about his relationships. He doesn't promise anything and doesn't lead the girls on. I don't ever recall him ending one with any bitterness or anger on either part. He just has that knack, I guess. I keep hoping he's going to meet the right woman and settle down. He's a super-bright guy and a good friend. Amazing, since we are such different people."

Doreen nodded, absorbing what I had just said. 

"Has Carolyn said anything to you?" I asked.

"Not really. I just get the feeling that she's taking him seriously. I guess we'll know soon enough."

"I guess."

"I'm excited about the new job, Val," she said at length.

"Good. I want you to be. Hell, I invented that job just for you."

"You what?"

"Well, maybe not exactly for you, but when you told me about yourself and your qualifications, I started to think about what I needed at the shop. You were a perfect fit."

"You mean you weren't out looking for someone when you talked to me?"

"Not really. I didn't know what I wanted ... or needed. I hadn't really pinned it down. You helped me do that ... even though you didn't know it at the time."

"You're making me nervous, Val. Are you always this impulsive?"

"No ... as a matter of fact, I'm a lot more deliberate when it comes to the business. I'm not sure what pushed me into making this decision so quickly, but ... looking back on it ... in sober reflection," I grinned, "I'm glad I did."

"I hope it hasn't anything to do with trying to get close to me. I don't believe in workplace romances. You might as well know that upfront."

"I don't either. And that's not what this is all about. It's strictly business and our relationship will be strictly business."

She sighed and relaxed again, appearing to accept my assurances.



Tuesday, July 7th, 9:15am

"Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Hi Val, it's Norm Fielding."

"Hi, Norm. How are you? Did you have a good holiday?"




Better Than New Ch. 01



"Just fine, thanks. All the kids and grandkids were here and I just shipped off the last of them this morning. I think I'm gettin' too old for a houseful any more. When Sarah was around, it was easier."

"Yeah ... I'm sure it was. What can I do for you?"

"I've decided to fully retire at the end of the year, Val. I'm going to travel for a while. Sittin' around the house isn't doing me any good. I need to get out and spend some of that money I worked so hard to get. I haven't got all that many years left."

"Yeah ... I've been trying to tell Mom and Dad that too. Anyway, if you're going to retire, I'm going to have to find myself a new accountant. Any suggestions?"

"Not really. You want someone that's certified and experienced in the business world. You run what's classified as a small business, so you don't need some superstar. Hell, you put up with me for ten years. That ought to tell you something," he laughed.

"Okay. I have an idea about someone if they are qualified and interested. Otherwise, I've got a few months to find someone. Thanks for the heads-up, Norm. I'm envious about you taking off to all corners of the world. How do your kids feel about that?"

"They're all for it. I think they're sick of seeing me mope around and doing nothing. It'll be a break for them not to have to worry about me."

"I guess. Well, we'll be talking off and on before you go, so I'll get going on finding someone and let you know. I may want you to interview them, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. After all, I've got a stake in seeing that BTN succeeds."

"Yeah, that you have. I'll talk to you soon."

Strange, my business life seems to be full of coincidences right now, I thought. First Doreen, now maybe Carolyn."

I picked up the phone and punched in the familiar numbers. "Hey, Paul, it's me. Got a minute?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"Norm called and let me know he's going to retire at the end of the year. That means I need a new accountant. I heard from Doreen that Carolyn wasn't all that happy at Beeson, so I thought I might talk to her."

"Great! You're right, she's not happy. Ever since Doreen announced she was leaving, she's been combing through the paper looking for opportunities. I'm not sure what she earns, but I know it isn't as much as a controller or head accountant would. I'm not sure what her qualifications are, either."

"Yeah, well, first things first. I'll call her and ask her if she's interested. We can go from there after that. Have you got her home number?"

"Sure." He rattled it off and I had to get him to repeat it so I could write it down. 

"Got it down pat, huh," I teased.

"Yeah. I've been using it often enough I ought to remember it."

"You're heading for a new record for consecutive appearances with the same woman," I laughed.

"Maybe. Could happen." He sounded happy and cheerful, not unusual for him. That was his nature.

"Good luck," I signed off.



Tuesday, July 7th, 7:10pm

"Hi, Carolyn, it's Val Keating calling. I'm a friend of Paul's. We played golf together a few Saturdays ago."

"Sure, I remember. Paul talks about you often. What can I do for you?"

"A little bird told me that you aren't all that happy at Beeson, and that you might be looking around for an opportunity. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is. Just which little bird told you, male or female?"

"Both, actually. My accountant, Norm Fielding, is retiring at the end of the year and would like to close down his practice. I need someone to look after my financial affairs at BTN. I wasn't sure if that fit what you are capable of, so I thought I'd ask."

"Yes ... I have a certificate and experience in business financial and tax accounting. For a business your size, I'd probably be what you're looking for, and based on what Doreen told me, you might be exactly what I'm looking for."

"Great. I'd like you and Norm to get together to make sure he's satisfied that you can handle my affairs, then I'd want to meet with you to show you the business and discuss my plans for expansion. That's going to take some careful money management, as you can imagine."

"That sounds fine. When would you like me to meet with Mr. Fielding?" 

"Any time it's convenient for you. I'll give you his home phone number and you can call him and set up an appointment." I waited for her to get a pen, then gave her Norm's number.

"Thanks for thinking of me, Val. I appreciate it. I've been jealous of Doreen ever since she told me about her new job."

"Well, with any luck, you two might be reunited at my place. I'll wait to hear from Norm, then I'll call you."

"Thanks again, Val. I'll keep my fingers crossed that it works out in our favour."



Thursday, July 9th, 9:05am

"Hi Val, it's Norm. Got a minute?"

"Sure. For you, anytime."

"I talked to that young woman, Carolyn Findlay, last night. She came over to the house and gave me her C.V. She's got the necessary qualifications, Val. I liked her. Got lots of spirit and she knows her stuff. Doesn't have delusions of being a CFO in the near future."

"That's good news, Norm. Any negatives?"

"Naw, just the usual ones about hiring women. You know, they get pregnant and you have to replace them. But that's just me being old-fashioned," he laughed.

"Yeah ... it's real enough, but if she can do the job, I won't worry about that right now."

"Well, I'm satisfied that she can, but it's your business. You talk to her and satisfy yourself that she'll fit in. Good luck."

"Thanks again, Norm. I appreciate it."

I looked up Carolyn's number and dialed it.

"Hi, Carolyn, it's Val Keating."

"Oh, Hi Val."

"Can you and I get together at my office some time soon? I'd like to show you around and then we can discuss the job I have to offer."

"You mean you're offering me the job?" She sounded taken aback.

"Yes, does that surprise you?"

"Yeah ... well ... everything's happened so fast. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. We haven't even discussed salary or other things."

"You're quite correct, we haven't. That's why I want to get together with you. When do you think it would be convenient?"

"I guess Saturday morning would be the soonest. I've got a lot on my plate at Beeson right now. I'd rather they didn't know I was looking around too."

"I understand perfectly. I've got Doreen coming in on Saturday for her orientation, but I'll have one of my guys handle some of that while you and I talk. Why don't we say about ... oh ... nine o'clock?"

"That's fine. I'll see you at nine."

Bingo! Two opportunities and two bullseyes. I'm on a roll.

To be continued.


Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their usual thoroughness and helpful suggestions. All errors are mine.



Better Than New Ch. 02



Act 2

Saturday, July 11th, 7:00am

"What are you doing here at this time of day?" I asked Doreen as she waited for me to unlock the door.

"Is this your regular opening time?"

"Yes, but you didn't need to be here this early."

"If I'm going to be your 'right hand,' then I should be here when we open. Everyone else will be."

I grinned and nodded. "Can't argue with that. Good to see you. We can get started right away. I'll call all the guys together before they get going and introduce you."

I used the paging system to call all the men into the body shop area for a brief meeting.

"Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Doreen Gordon. She'll be starting with us on Monday morning as my assistant and she'll be in training. I want and need your cooperation to make sure she gets whatever assistance she needs to learn the business and contribute to our success. I've talked in the past about further expansion, and I can't do it without adding staff and more space. More work means more profits and year-end bonuses, so help me out and make our new people welcome."

"Hey boss, can I have an assistant too?" a voice came from the back.

"Ralph, I'll get Barry to be your assistant and you can pay him out of your inflated salary."

That brought general laughter and another comment from me.

"Guys, I want you to act like gentlemen around Ms. Gordon. No crude jokes, etc. Just behave the way you do when we have customers and visitors in the shop. Thank you."

That signalled the end of the meeting, and several of the men came up and introduced themselves to Doreen, welcoming her to BTN.

"Tommy, can you stay for a moment. I've got another meeting in a while and I'd like you to go over the shop procedures, especially the paperwork, with Doreen. She's going to be taking that load off you and me, so make sure she understands what we do and how we do it."

"No problem, boss. Nice to meet you, Miss Gordon. I'm Tommy Tilbury, and I'm the shop foreman. I'll be grateful for any paperwork you can take off my hands," he smiled.

"Tommy was the first employee I hired when I started the business. He's been my go-to guy on the shop floor and there isn't a job in any department he can't do and do well."

"Nice to meet you, Tommy. I'll look forward to working with you," Doreen smiled as they shook hands.

We walked back into the office. 

"As of Monday, we will be sharing this office, Doreen."

"We will?"

"Yes, until you get you used to the flow of work and how I handle the phones. By the end of the week, I'll have a portable office parked off the end of the restoration shop. The hydro and the phone company will have us hooked into the system by Friday. When that's done, both of us will move to the portable and our new accountant will use this office. You, Tommy, and I will have to start planning our new building almost right away."

"New building? You didn't mention anything about a new building." 

"I've been calling it expansion. I need more space for the restoration business if I'm going to grow it. It's the most profitable and therefore the one we want to invest in. I'm also going to have to find more people to man that department. That will be the hard part. We are turning down business right now because we don't have the manpower. I need to be able to concentrate on that with Tommy while you keep things moving here."

"What about property?" 

"Not a problem. I bought the site behind us when I bought this property ten years ago. It was cheap because it had been a fuel storage lot and the ground was badly contaminated. I had it cleaned and replaced, but there was a seven year moratorium for site remediation, so I couldn't do anything with it. I was lucky. I got it out before the new tighter regulations were implemented. Now it's free and clear and worth many times what I paid for it. The building will be very straightforward, and with the same construction as our existing units it will blend right in. I already have the planning department's conditional approval. Now it's a matter of final blueprints, funds, and a contractor. Am I moving too fast for you?"

"Almost. I had no idea you were this close to expansion. Is this why you were in a hurry to find someone to help run the business?"

"Yep. Luckily, you happened along. Then, when Norm decided to retire as my accountant, I decided to bite the bullet and have a full-time accountant for the business. Money management is going to be important for the next little while. The last thing I want to have happen is to slip out of profitability and not have profit sharing for the men. That would be a downer for them, considering how hard they've worked to make this place a success."

"I hear Carolyn is interviewing for the job."

"Actually, she's coming in this morning and with any luck, you and she will be working together again," I smiled.

"That would be terrific. She's really good to work with. She'll be great for your business."

"I think so too, but like you, she's got a lot to learn and we're going to need her to keep us on the financial straight and narrow. Every employee is going to be important for the next while."

Doreen shook her head and smiled. "Well, I said I wanted a challenge, and it looks like I got it." 

Saturday, July 11th, 8:55am

"Good morning, Carolyn. Come right in. Don't mind the crowd. Doreen will be out with one of my guys in a couple of minutes."

"No problem. Hi Doreen. Fancy meeting you here," she giggled.

"Small world," Doreen smiled, as Tommy tapped on the door frame.

"All set to go?" I asked him.

"All set, Doreen. Follow me." 

Doreen waved to Carolyn and mouthed "see you later."

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I gather that's your résumé," I said, reaching for the offered folder as she nodded.

"Norm says you have the right qualifications for this job, so we don't need to discuss that. It's really about whether this is where you want to work and if you'll be happy here."

She was staring at the pictures on the wall behind me. I had been collecting a rogue's gallery of my work, with photographs of happy customers and their cars. Many of those photos were now on our website.

"Oh ... sorry ... I was just looking at all the pictures of the cars."

"Yeah ... well ... that's what we do here," I said, looking over my shoulder. "In the beginning it was just Dad and me. Then, when I went out on my own, I hired Tommy, and we've been growing steadily for the last six years. The pictures kind of tell the tale from the top left down to the bottom right on the wall. At some point I'm going to have to find a bigger wall."

"Based on what Doreen's told me, this is a really interesting place. I'm anxious to see it," Carolyn said, perhaps a bit nervous yet.

"Good. Why don't I take you on a tour and you can see what we do and what kind of a place we run."

We walked out onto the autobody shop floor and I saw the same reaction from her that I saw with Doreen: surprise.

"Wow. Doreen wasn't kidding. This place is amazing. So clean."

"I'm sure she told you why."

"Yeah. Makes sense. I mean, not all your customers are men. I'm sure women would react like I did. Makes them feel better, I'll bet."

"It does. Almost everyone who comes in remarks on it."

We moved through as I explained the three different areas. When we walked into the restoration shop, she stopped again with an astonished face.

"Doreen told me about this too, but it's even more interesting than she said. That silver car ... what do you call it?"

"That's a 1935 DeSoto Airflow."

"I've never heard of a DeSoto before."

"It's an old Chrysler brand, long gone since the early sixties."

"It looks so weird ... tubby ... like me," she laughed.

I knew better than to respond to that line. We walked through the area and saw Doreen and Tommy deep in discussion at one of the work stations.

"Doreen's really excited about working here. I can see why."

"Well, that's what I'm hoping for. I want our people to want to come to work each day."

She nodded and continued to look around her. "Well, it's quite a nice place. Well lit and with light colors to keep it bright. It makes the cars look better too."

"Yes. That's all part of it. Lighting is important for the men too, especially in winter when it's dark outside. Why don't we go back to the office and we can talk about my plans and what your responsibilities would be."

She sat in the chair as I pulled out my last financial report from Norm, passing it to her.

"I assume you will keep this in confidence, but you should have a look at what the business looks like right now."

"Of course," she said, looking at the three page report. 

I sat silently as she scanned the numbers and comments. Norm was nothing if not thorough, and I was sure she would have most of her questions answered on those pages. 

After a few minutes she put the report down. "Is there a busy or a slow season to this business?"

"Good question. It used to be summer, but no longer. We have more opportunities for business than we can handle in the restoration side. The bodyshop is a little less busy right now, so that helps with vacation time. So, to answer your question, we're running pretty much at capacity and would like to do more."

"These numbers look good. What's surprising is the cash flow is positive. That's a real good sign."

"Yeah, that's what Norm said too. But to keep it that way, I need to day-to-day money management, particularly if we're going to grow the business. That's where you come in. I'll be borrowing to build, so those costs have to be factored into the bottom line. I'm not panicked into doing anything on a deadline, but sooner is better. My thinking is to find the people I need before I build. My guess is we can have a new building up in six months from letting the contract."

"How long before you can find new people and how many do you need?"

"I heard one of my competitors is in trouble and thinking about selling. I might go there looking for people first. I need three men capable of top quality work, and one more paint man."

"When are you going to try and get them?"

"As soon as I hire my new accountant," I said with a waggle of my eyebrows.

"So, that brings up the next question. How much does this job pay?"

"Forty thou, plus benefits, plus profit sharing. A review in three months with the possibility of a raise, another in six months, then annually. Same deal as Doreen, seein' as how you two share your secrets."

"Not all of them. Anyway, that sounds fair and if the job is offered, I'll accept on that basis. I would appreciate it if you would put it in writing."

"What's the matter?" I chuckled, "Don't you trust me?"

"Just being careful. Wouldn't want any misunderstanding right off the bat."

"Fair enough. I guess I should do the same for Doreen, too."

"Wouldn't hurt," she said with her ever ready smile. 

"So just to confirm, then, you're hired. I assume you need two weeks for notice at Beeson?"

"Yeah ... unfortunately. The sooner I'm out of there, the happier I'm going to be."

"Sounds like you and Doreen are singin' from the same song book."

We'd finished our talk just as Tommy and Doreen returned from the shop. 

"Doreen, Tommy, meet our new head accountant, Ms. Carolyn Findlay."

The two women hugged and congratulated each other. Tommy offered his hand and Carolyn shook it firmly.

"Nice goin', Boss. You're doing wonders improving the look of the office."

"Careful, Tommy. Behave yourself or I'll tell Jeanette."

Tommy showed a look of pain before smiling and waving as he headed back to work.

The rest of the morning was taken up with going over the routine in the office and how we answered the phones, wrote up the estimates, and billed the clients. There were few questions from the girls as everything seemed straightforward business practice. Since they were friends, I didn't have to worry about how they would get along together. On top of that, they were enthusiastic about working here. That was exactly the way I wanted it to be.

Sunday, July 12, 1:00pm

"Cheers!" Paul said, offering his mug.

"Skoal!" I replied.

"Did I tell you my girlfriend's got a new job?"

"Very funny. Just don't keep her up all night and make her late for work."

"She's pretty jacked up about the job, Val. I think you've made a good decision. She's pretty sharp."

"And you're not biased," I chuckled.

"Okay ... a little bit. Just the same, I'm really glad she's out of Beeson. You're not going to be Trip's favorite person this summer."

"Like I give a shit. I still owe that asshole some payback."

"Yeah. I'd like to be there when it happens. It would be great if Monica was around to see it too."

I nodded. "That would be poetic justice, wouldn't it?"

"How long do you figure they were gettin' it on?"

"I don't know. Probably a few months. I don't know if Carolyn or Doreen know anything about my ex-wife, but they may know when she started hanging out with him."

"More likely Carolyn than Doreen. Her office was up front near the sales department, so she might have been more aware. I can ask her if you like."

"If you want. I don't care. It's over now. She chose him over me and there isn't anything that's going to change that."

"I wonder how long it will be before she figures out she's made a bad trade."

I shrugged and took another pull at my beer.

Monday, July 27, 7:00am

"Well look who I have here," I said with a big grin. "Welcome to BTN, Carolyn. Doreen, remind me to get Carolyn a key to the front door."

Carolyn chirped brightly, "Time to start counting the beans."

"Good morning, Doreen."

"Morning, Val. Should I go out at lunch hour and get a key made?"

"Good idea. In fact, why don't the three of us go out for lunch and we can talk about what I've got planned. There's a food court in the mall and a kiosk that makes keys. We can kill two birds with one stone."

The girls looked at each other and agreed.

"Great. Now, Doreen, as usual, you get together with Tommy and go over the schedule. Find out if there are any hold-ups or problems that need to be dealt with. Carolyn, you can look after the mail, hopefully containing more checks than bills. I imagine you have a routine that you would normally follow, so go ahead with that. If you've got any questions, come and see me. In the meantime, I'm going to call my contact in Santa Rosa and see what the latest is on the status of my competitor."

"Doreen, you and I should get together this morning to go over where you're at so far. I need to set up a timetable for you to meet with our key suppliers. I really want to make sure we have a good relationship with them, but not have them take advantage of us. That's where my experience can help you."

"Yes ... thanks, Val. This is all so new ... so different from the furniture business. The people are different too. It takes some getting used to."

"Don't worry ... you're doing fine. Just don't be afraid to ask if you're not sure."

It was great to have the two women up and ready to go this quickly. Doreen was proving to be quick learning the systems we had in manufacturing and order processing, as well as purchasing and expediting. But she was eager and from all appearances, very direct in her telephone manner with our suppliers. After only two weeks on the job, I was feeling good about hiring her.

Friday, October 23rd, 3:10pm

I pushed my chair back from the desk in our portable office, and sighed. I was almost seeing double looking over the contract for the new addition.

"Doreen, can you spare me a few minutes, please."

She looked over from her computer screen. "Sure."

"I promised you a review after three months," I began as she sat in the nearby chair. "I probably don't have to tell you that I'm really happy with your progress. It seems like almost every day that I do. I'm getting a sore back from patting myself for hiring you."

Doreen blushed, "Thank you."

"I don't have any real criticisms other than I'd like you to back off a little on your workload. I don't want you burning out, and trust me, I know that can happen. You've done everything and more that I wanted when I hired you, so relax and turn the wick down a little. 

"Tommy is in seventh heaven since you took the paperwork load off him. I guess what's impressed me most is the relationship you've been building with the guys. You don't take any shit from them and they respect you for it. 

Pardon my French. As of Monday, your pay will show a 5% increase. We'll do this again in another three months. Congratulations!" I smiled.

"Thank you, Val. I'm really pleased that you're pleased. Don't worry about me burning out. I'm loving this. So much to learn and I have so much more control over how I work. It's better than I expected by a lot."

"There is one thing I'd like you to do Monday morning. Please bring your car into the shop and leave it with Tommy. He'll need it for four of five days, so you should have it back by Friday afternoon."

"Why? How will I get to work?"

"Use one of the loaners from the autobody shop. Tell the Administrative Manager I okayed it," I chuckled.

"What are you going to do with my car?"

"It's going in for a make-over. You are an executive with this company. Just like the rest of this business, I want you to be seen in the best possible light. When we're done with it, it will be better than new."

"Uhhm ... how much will it cost?"

"Nothing. I consider it a cost of doing business. When people see you in that car, I want them to think of BTN as a class outfit."

"That's incredible, Val. A raise and a reborn car, all in the same afternoon. I don't know what to say."

"Well, then it's settled. If you're happy, I'm happy. Have a good weekend, and we'll see you Monday," I said, standing and offering my hand. She shook it with her usual firm grip and then surprised me with a quick kiss on the cheek. I wasn't expecting that. 

Friday, October 30th, 3:45pm

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," Doreen exclaimed as she ran her hand over the refurbished Camry. "It really is better than new."

"Glad you like it. Dad worked on the mechanicals and says everything is fine other than new brake pads, oil and filters. Just the interior and body needed real work."

"I bought this car used and the upholstery was stained is several places. Those stains are all gone. That's amazing."

"How do you like the color?"

"It's so much brighter than the original. It looks familiar."

"It should. It's the same metallic burgundy I used on the panel van. The pinstripe is gold and hand done. Hope you like it."

"I love it. It's gorgeous. Thank you so much. I love what you've done for me. Thank you." Again, another quick kiss on the cheek.

"Well, it wasn't all for you, remember. You're advertising our work too, so don't forget to tell your friends who did it," I teased.

She blushed, but probably knew no response was required.

I walked back into the office to see Carolyn, but I was a few seconds too slow. Doreen had grabbed her and dragged her outside to see the car. After several minutes of oohs and aahs, Doreen returned to the portable and I had a few minutes with Carolyn alone. It was time for her first review.

"You mean I get a raise already? I've hardly just started here."

"You're doing a great job. I'm really pleased at your communications. I get a weekly report from you on our financial status, and our bank manager has good things to say about you and our negotiations on the expansion loan. You've also begun to make some suggestions that are bound to be helpful.

"Last week I told Doreen how I was congratulating myself on hiring her, and this week I'm doing the same thing with you. You two ladies are going to make a big difference to our future."




Better Than New Ch. 02



"Thank you, Val. I really like working here. It's such a professional environment, and I feel like I can contribute some ideas without worrying about being shot down before I get a hearing. I can't wait to tell Paul," she smiled, clapping her hands together.

"Go ahead. He's always glad to hear good news."

"I was thinking, you know, just how much happened that one day when we met on the golf course. It doesn't seem possible that both Doreen and I have had so much change, and so much satisfaction in such a short time. Doreen is a completely different person since she came here. She's so much happier than before."

"That's good to hear, and I saw that too. She must have had a bad experience

somewhere along the line, but she seems to be over it now."

"I don't think it's my place to talk about it. She'll have to be the one to tell you about it if she decides to."

"Understood." I was pleased that Carolyn wasn't a gossip, especially in her sensitive position.

Tuesday, December 1st, 8:15am

"Good morning, Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Good morning, Mr. Keating. This is Warren Beeson speaking. I wonder if I might arrange an appointment to meet with you. It's regarding some work your company may be able to do for me."

I knew from the tone and timbre of the voice that this was Trip's father, a man I generally respected.

"Yes, Mr. Beeson. What would be convenient for you?"

"Would later this afternoon be too soon? Say, three o'clock?"

"No ... that would be fine. I'll look forward to seeing you then."

"As will I. Thank you, Mr. Keating."

I had forgotten how formal the "old man" was, but that was an inheritance from his father, and it suited him. Too bad his son wasn't a chip off the old block.

Tuesday, December 1st, 3:00pm 

"Come in, Mr. Beeson. Please excuse the portable. It's temporary until the new expansion is ready next year." I caught a glimpse of a black Lincoln Town Car, undoubtedly his.

"I understand. Just the same, you keep a neat and clean environment for what usually is a somewhat less tidy workplace."

"Thank you. It's part of the culture around here."

"I have a feeling we might have met before."

"Yes, years ago. I was in the same grade as your son in junior and senior high school. He and I have known each other for a long time. We probably met at some school event."

"Possibly. I used to attend Warren's extra curricular activities as often as time permitted. After his mother died, I thought it important that I do so."

"How can I help you, sir?"

"I need your expertise to assess and suggest what I might do with two automobiles I have inherited from my late father. He passed away last year, and I'm just now getting down to the details of his estate. I discovered that he had stored two older automobiles sometime in the late 1940's. I really don't know why, and he didn't leave any clue in his will. I didn't know they existed until just recently."

"How were they stored?"

"In an unused area of the original factory that has been long abandoned by us. We've kept the building and property, but it's been idle for over twenty years. I had no idea that these two autos were stored there. They've been kept under covers in a dry, fairly clean area. I don't know enough about these cars to judge their value, but I think these might be somewhat unique. I'd like your opinion, then, assuming they are valuable, what it would take to bring them up to fully restored status."

"I see. Well, it's a bit unusual, but I'm as curious as you are, so why don't we go over there and I can have a look."

"Excellent. I was hoping you'd be interested. When can you find the time?"

"We could do it now, if you want. I would like to see them in daylight to get a good feel for their condition, but for the time being, let's just see if we can identify them."

"That's very good of you to just drop everything and do that. Thank you."

"Like I said, I'm as curious as you."

It took less than fifteen minutes to arrive at the old factory building. Beeson unlocked the office entrance and turned on the lights.

"This building is still serviced?" I said in surprise.

"Yes. We store old equipment and surplus materials here. I still don't know how I missed seeing these cars, but I did."

We approached two large shrouded objects and we carefully removed the cover from the first. As the car gradually took shape before me, I couldn't help a low whistle. A black car with medium blue panels was revealed. 

"This is something special, sir. It's a Bugatti. Pre-war. Not the Atlantic, but likely something quite rare. We'll need an expert opinion to check out its history. This really is amazing to find something like this in our little corner of the world." 

"Really! How on earth did my father come to possess something like this?"

It was a rhetorical question. I couldn't imagine how. It was time to unveil the second car. Once again, I was dumbfounded by what was revealed. I had never seen one outside of the Pebble Beach Concours. It was a Mercedes Benz 540K, I was pretty sure. The cabriolet version, with a white body and black fenders and top. The windows were down, allowing me to look inside.

"Look at the dashboard plaque, Mr. Beeson. On the right hand side."

I backed off to let him see what I saw.

"Is that a swastika?"

"Yes sir, that's exactly what it is."

The man seemed quite stunned by the revelations of the two automobiles. 

We stood there in silence, just looking at the two pieces of automotive history. Both European, both pre-war, and both seemingly in excellent condition. I walked back to the Mercedes. With a bit of probing, I found the hood latches and opened it. It was as pristine inside as it was outside. I didn't open the battery box, but with the disconnected leads, I was sure the battery would have been removed. There was no point in seeing if it would start after all this time.

"This is absolutely amazing. I can't figure out how two such important cars would just be stored here without anyone saying anything."

Beeson was nodding in agreement. "What do you suggest, Mr. Keating?"

"This is out of my league, Mr. Beeson. You need an expert. Someone with DuPont credentials. I think you have a million dollar find on your hands. I'm also wondering ... when was this building built?"

"In 1946, if I remember correctly. I was virtually a newborn then. It was my father's first business venture after he returned from overseas."

"What service was you father in?"

"The army ... he was an officer in the quartermaster corps. Fairly high up, if I remember rightly. He was right near the front lines all the way into Germany. Why do you ask?"

"These are pre-war cars. I'm guessing they were 'liberated' by our troops as the war neared its end. It may be that it wasn't via completely legitimate army procedure. That's just a guess."

"I wouldn't put it past the old bugger," he said with a shake of his head and a rueful laugh. "He collected quite a few souvenirs in his time. I still have most of them. It must have been quite a challenge to get these two machines from there to here, though."

"I think that's the understatement of the year, sir."

"Do you think you can do anything with them?"

"I wouldn't dare. They are too valuable in their original condition. Again, an expert opinion would be the way to go. I can tell you that cars of this nature in their original paint and equipment, unrestored, carry the highest value. Just looking at these two, they are candidates for that class. One thing I would ask, though. I would like to be here when the evaluation is done. It would be a fantastic learning experience for me. One I couldn't otherwise hope to get."

"That's a completely reasonable request. But, if I may impose on you further. Would you please give me the names of two people you would trust to make that evaluation? I wouldn't know where to start."

"Of course. One thing, though. I think we should keep this find to ourselves. This isn't a secure location, and I'd hate for these cars to be stolen before we can get them authenticated and insured."

"Excellent. No one need know except you and I."

I nodded. I was excited about being involved in the process of validating these amazing finds. I hoped to learn a great deal if the opportunity was there.

Thursday, December 3rd, 9:10am

"Good morning, Mr. Beeson, it's Val Keating calling."

"Yes, Mr. Keating. Have you found what you were looking for?"

"Yes sir. I spoke with a gentleman in Hartford, Connecticut this morning. His credentials are top rate. When I gave him a brief outline of what we had found, I believe he was packing his bags and ordering an airline ticket before we were finished talking. He'll be here tomorrow morning and I've arranged to have him come here first. Will nine o'clock be okay with you?"

"Yes, I'm an early riser anyway. I'll meet you at your office, and thank you for handling this so quickly, Mr. Keating."

"You're welcome sir. I'll see you tomorrow morning at nine."

"What was that all about," Doreen asked as I hung up.

"A little business with Warren Beeson II. I can't talk about it right now, but it is very interesting, and I may be tied up tomorrow for much of the day. Is there anything that you and I need to cover if that happens?"

"No. That was Warren's father?" she asked, clearly curious.

"Yeah. Unlike his son, he is a gentleman. I have no problem with him."

She nodded, "I agree. I never had a problem with 'Senior.' He was old-school, but always polite and friendly."

Friday, December 4th, 8:50am

"Good morning, Mr. Beeson."

"Good morning, I hope I'm not too early."

"Not at all. Care for a coffee?"

"Thank you, black please."

I poured the coffee and passed it to him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Doreen watching us, trying not to be obvious.

"Ms. Gordon is my administrative manager, and she'll sit in on this meeting. I trust her completely," I said, eliciting a surprised look from Doreen.

"I understand. Good morning, Ms. Gordon. Pardon my saying so, but you also look familiar."

"I used to work at your office until recently."

"Yes, of course. In the general office if I remember correctly."

"Yes," Doreen answered quietly, offering no more.

"Very nice to see you again," Beeson said, smiling genuinely. 

"Our guest will be here almost anytime. I doubt he'll be late, based on how he reacted on the phone," I suggested.

I'd no sooner got the words out when there was a firm tap-tap-tap on the door of the portable. I opened it and ushered our guest in.

"You are Mr. Coultard?" I asked.

"Yes ... you must be Valentine Keating."

"Yes. Let me introduce Mr. Warren Beeson, the owner of the two vehicles, and my administrative manger, Ms. Doreen Gordon."

The introductions complete, Coultard passed his business card to all of us and we reciprocated.

"I was excited by your description of the two automobiles you have in your possession, Mr. Beeson. If Mr. Keating has described them correctly, they are quite rare. I was rather hoping that the Bugatti might be another Atlantic, but alas, it was not to be," he smiled. "Nonetheless, a Type 57 is still a rare bird, and very valuable," Coultard said in what I took to be an English accent.

"Why don't we take you to the location and you can see for yourself," Beeson suggested.

"Excellent. Do you have power available on the site?"

"Yes, both 110 and 220."

"Very good. I'll need it for my lights and instruments."

Damon Coultard represented Swithorne and Son, an appraisal company based in London, England, with branch offices in France, South America, and Hartford, Connecticut. They were reputed to be the tops in their field, appraising not only automobiles, but aircraft, and boats as well. He was all business as far as I could tell. 

Warren Beeson led the way in his car, while Coultard followed with me in his rented van. It was loaded with equipment cases. Doreen stayed behind to run the shop in my absence.

"Sorry about the surroundings," Warren said as we entered the old factory.

"Not to worry, Mr. Beeson. I've been in some far worse places that this, I can assure you. This is quite pleasant in comparison. I'll just be a few minutes setting up my equipment."

Beeson and I pulled the shrouds off the two cars and Coultard couldn't resist walking over to see what was underneath. I saw his eyes go wide several times as he looked over the Mercedes first, then the Bugatti. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was anxious to get started.

When he turned on the photographer's floodlights, it illuminated the entire area as if we were out in the midday sun, minus the shadows. The two cars were separated far enough apart that he could light them individually without one blocking the other. 

"I think he's impressed," I whispered to Beeson.

He nodded silently, a faint smile on his lips.

We watched for almost an hour as Coultard meticulously went over each car, inside and out. He had a notepad, which he used regularly to supplement his photographs. I was watching carefully, trying to determine what he was looking for.

Warren Beeson excused himself for a while, probably to attend to business, but was back before noon. I wasn't going anywhere. This was a fascinating exercise in my trying to guess what this man was looking for without interrupting him. There would be time enough for questions later.

"Well ... well, well, well," Coultard exclaimed as he turned toward Beeson and me. "This is truly a banner day. Two remarkable automobiles in outstanding original condition. Well preserved by someone with know-how. Yes. I think you've got quite something here, Mr. Beeson," he said with an enthusiastic smile.

"Shall we adjourn for lunch and discuss it," Beeson said. "I've arranged for something at my home, if that's all right with you," 

"That will be fine. Will Mr. Keating be joining us?"

"Yes, certainly, he's instrumental in bringing you and me together. Plus, he has expertise in his own right."

"Yes, I noticed he had a restoration underway. A TF, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's right," I confirmed. "It's going to be a challenge."

"Yes it is. Those wood framed doors are going to give you fits, I suspect." Coultard was confirming what I already feared. 

"Any suggestions?"

"Forget about the weight and use hardwood; oak or birch or the like. Something with good screw holding power. Then pray," he winked.

"Thanks," I said, not really enthused about the prospect.

A middle-aged woman served the lunch as we sat at Beeson's elegant dining room table. I felt badly underdressed, but I don't think I was alone. Coultard was wearing a well-worn smock and only took it off when we entered the stately old house. Beneath it he wore a collared shirt and cotton slacks. I was grateful my polo shirt and cotton slacks weren't too badly wrinkled.

Coultard began as we finished the meal. "Well, Mr. Beeson, I want to thank you and Mr. Keating for inviting me here today. I always get a lift from finding new things and these two examples are very, very, good.

"First of all, the ownership of the two will have to be examined. They are both from Europe of course, so we will have to see if we can research who purchased them originally. You will need to establish title before you can offer them for sale, or even license them. Do you know how they came into your possession?"

"Not really. My father apparently brought them into the country after the war, and as far as I know, they were never registered nor driven. They could have been in this building since then ... untouched."

"Amazing. Was your father in the services?"

"Yes. U.S. Army. Based on the number of souvenirs he brought back, I suspect these were part of them. I'm not certain it was entirely legitimate, however."

Coultard smiled. "Not as uncommon as you would think. To the victors belong the spoils, as the saying goes. Just the same, we'll do a title search and see what comes of it. Better safe than sorry. In the meantime, I suggest you contact one of the specialty insurers and get coverage on these two right away."

"How much should I insure them for?"

"I shouldn't think any less than five million," he said calmly.

"Good grief, man. Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I'm allowing a bit for inflation, but they could sell at auction for a good deal more than that if the right buyers come along."

I was in shock, and Beeson was as well, sinking back in his chair, his eyes wide and his mouth open. It took him several seconds to recover. He turned to me, shaking his head.

"Did you have any idea, Mr. Keating?"

"No sir. Not in my wildest imagination. I'm as shocked as you are."

"You have to understand, gentlemen," Coultard continued, "these are not just rare, they are unique in that they are completely and totally original, and from what I can see, in excellent condition. Considering they were 'liberated' from a war-torn country, that is amazing all on its own. Even the leather upholstery is in good condition. It must have been treated with something before it was stored. It will need cleaning, but from what I can see, little more.

"There's no sign of rust or decay on either car. Both have modest mileage, probably because travel was restricted during the war. Most of the miles would have come before 1939 I suspect. The Mercedes is a 1937 540k Cabriolet B. The owner was apparently an officer in the German Army. There is an inscription plate on the dashboard that looks like a battalion slogan, or something of that nature. I would guess it would be a junior officer from a wealthy family. The big wigs rolled around in the four-door armored versions.

"The Bugatti is a Type 57 Coupe, 1936 vintage according to the builder's plate. The paint job is typical in my opinion. I would be surprised if this wasn't the second time it was liberated. First from the French, then from the Germans. In any event, whoever had these vehicles treated them with the utmost care. Truly the luck of the Irish is on your side, Mr. Beeson."

I think both Warren Beeson and I were still astounded at the valuation of the two automobiles. I remembered something I wanted to ask Coultard.

"When I first saw the two, I checked the dipstick and radiators. Both appeared to be drained. Is that what you saw?"

"Yes. These cars were prepared for long term storage. The batteries were removed from their boxes, and all the fluids were drained. I found some evidence of what I think were mothballs, perhaps to keep insects from doing damage. It was a very thorough preparation. The tires didn't survive, but they are easily replaceable with new, but authentic looking versions. Perhaps a couple of hoses might need replacing, but nothing of consequence that I can see."

"I gather you'll be sending us a report," Beeson said at length.

"Yes. You'll get a full report, copies of the photographs I took, and whatever we can discover of their provenance. I have a suspicion that we'll turn up little in that area, but we do have to try. Whatever we find, we will document and notarize. That will permit you to register and/or sell the vehicles legally."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Coultard. This has been an exciting and surprising morning. I think I speak for Mr. Keating that neither of us expected the value you estimated. Thank you again, and we'll look forward to hearing from you."

"You're quite welcome, and don't forget about the insurance. There are several specialty firms that would gladly handle this for you."

"Yes," I said, "I know a couple of them personally, so we can get bids from them."

Coultard departed, and in his wake left Warren Beeson and me still astonished by his revelation. We sat silently in his study, trying to grasp what had happened that morning.




Better Than New Ch. 02



"I'd better get back to work, Mr. Beeson. Thank you for inviting me. It was an amazing experience."

"Please, call me Warren, and if you don't mind, I'll call you Valentine," the man requested. He couldn't resist the implied formality.

"Thank you, Warren. I don't mind at all."

"It's going to take me a couple of days to absorb all this. I wonder if you wouldn't mind letting me know where I might obtain insurance."

"I'll do that. I see you have an e-mail address on your card. I'll send you the information there if that's all right."

"Fine. We should get together to talk about what needs to be done to bring the cars back to good running order. In the meantime, please send me your bill. You've been an invaluable help to me."

"No charge, Warren. This was a learning experience for me. I'd have paid for the privilege."

"Not a very good business practice," he chuckled.

"On the contrary. You never know when what I've learned can be turned into cash."

"Thank you again, Valentine. We'll talk soon."

Friday, December 4th, 3:45pm

"What was that all about this morning?" Doreen asked.

"It's confidential, and please keep this to yourself. Mr. Beeson has discovered two old, rare automobiles stored in his original factory building. They apparently were brought over from Europe by his father after World War II. Warren asked me to have a look at them. Coultard is an expert appraiser, called in because I was pretty sure they were something special. I just didn't know how special. He's suggesting Beeson insure them for five million dollars."

"Oh my god! Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"So, you and Mr. Beeson are on a first name basis now, huh?"

"Since about an hour ago," I admitted. Which reminds me, I've got to e-mail him the names of a couple of specialty insurers. I'd better do that now." 

"Okay, Valentine," she smirked.

"So now you know."

"Yeah. Let me guess ... you were born on February 14."

I looked at her with a wrinkled grin. "I only hire smart people."

I saw her arch an eyebrow as she returned to her work. 

Wednesday, December 23rd, 8:05am

"Good morning, Better Than New, Val speaking."

"It's Damon Coultard, Mr. Keating. Thought I'd give you a call before I sent Mr. Beeson some further documents. I hope you received a copy of my report and photographs."

"Yes, I did, and thank you." I was interested in what he had learned about the ownership.

"I talked to Mr. Beeson a few moments ago, and he authorized me to talk to you as well. As far as we can discover, the Mercedes was spirited away from an officer by the name of Baldur Hauptman, sometime prior to the surrender of the German army. We can find no evidence that any survivors exist, since he was the only son of his parents. We have attested to this and had it notarized. It should be sufficient to obtain registration in most of the U.S.

"As I suspected, the Bugatti was registered to a Mons. Jacque LeSarde in Clermond-Ferrand. Unfortunately, Mons. LeSarde's family were Jewish, and they were sent to the concentration camp in Choiseul in 1941, from which they never returned. We have no information about how the car ended up in Germany, if that is where it was found." 

"Even nearly seventy years later, these things still haunt us," I said.

"Yes. In my travels in Europe, I often see evidence of the atrocities. Not just German, but Russian, and even some by fellow countrymen. I doubt I'll ever come to terms with them."

"So, I'm assuming that Mr. Beeson has now the ability to register the two cars?"

"Yes, he should have little problem with our documents in hand."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased. I appreciated your prompt work and helping me understand what is involved in your profession. The detail in your report will assist me in assessing projects in the future. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, Mr. Keating. Good Day."

By all accounts, Mr. Coultard had just made Warren Beeson Senior five million dollars richer. I didn't have long to wait for confirmation.

"It's Warren Beeson, Valentine. I think you've probably already heard from Damon Coultard, so you know the outcome of the title search."

"Yes. You must be pleased, Warren."

"Very. I've already had preliminary discussions with my lawyer about registering the cars. Once that's done, I'd like to get together with you to discuss what needs to be done to bring them up to concours standards. I'd like to show them a few times before I put them up for auction."

"Good idea. Advertising of a different kind," I suggested.

"Exactly. I'd also like to discuss moving them to a more secure location. Once the word gets out, I want to be sure I don't become a target for thieves."

"I think I may be able to help there too. Let's talk about it when all the registration issues are taken care of."

"Fine, and thank you again for all your assistance. It's been very valuable."

"You're welcome. Bye."

Thursday, December 24th, 1:20pm

"Are all the checks made out, Carolyn?"

"Yes, Val. I've put them all in envelopes for you."

"Good. Why don't we get started then? Find one with your name on it."

"Right here, on the top," she grinned.

"Merry Christmas, and thanks for all your contributions to our success. I'm delighted we have a decent profit to share with each of our employees," I said, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I want to thank you for including me and Doreen. We haven't been here that long, but it's a great present just at Christmas. Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome. Now, let's go find Doreen and get things going. I'd like to close up in a few minutes."

Since Carolyn had made up the checks, there were no surprises, but she was amazed at just how large they were, especially for the longer term employees. The checks she and Doreen received were greater than any they had ever earned at Beeson.

"Merry Christmas," Carolyn chimed happily as we tromped into the portable. "Santa's arrived."

Doreen clapped her hands in glee as she spied the envelopes. There were no surprises about what gifts Santa was bearing.

"Congratulations, Doreen. You two girls have made a huge difference in the last six months. This is well deserved," I said, handing the envelope and surprising her with a kiss on the cheek.

The look on her face was one of shock for a moment, before it disappeared. She looked uncertain and confused, and I wondered if I had stepped over the line with the kiss.

"Sorry, Doreen. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No ... no ... it's okay. You just ... startled me. Anyway, thank you very much. This is a wonderful time for this to arrive."

"You're welcome. It's well earned. Let's go, Carolyn. Santa has some little boys to call on next."

Twenty minutes later I had locked the door and was walking in the cold drizzle toward my van.

"Val!" I heard Doreen call from the walkway.

"Right here."

"I just wanted to apologize for how I reacted in there just now. I wasn't expecting ... what you did. I got a little spooked. I'm sorry, I'll try not to let it happen again."

"Don't worry about it Doreen. I just thought it was a little more personal than a handshake, but if you're uncomfortable with it, I won't do it again."

"No ... that's not what I mean. I ... it's just that ... I can't explain right now. Someday, I will. Sorry. Merry Christmas. See you Monday," she said, trying to brighten the mood as she turned and ran to her car.

"Merry Christmas," I mumbled quietly as I watched her go. We'd come a long way from that first golf game, but every once in a while, she'd go quiet or seem to be a bit down. I'd wondered what that was about, but had no idea how to approach her about it. There wasn't anything wrong with her behavior or attitude around the office, so I had nothing to complain about. Right now it remained among the unsolved mysteries of women, a fairly thick book for me.

Thursday, December 24th, 7:55pm

"Merry Christmas, Val."

"Merry Christmas, Paul. Thanks for calling. What are you up to tonight?"

"Oh, Carolyn and I are just relaxing in front of the fireplace, drinking a hot cocoa and eating cookies."

"Really! Since you don't have a fireplace and you don't drink cocoa, I won't bother to ask what you're really up to," I chuckled.

"Thank you for that. What are you doing besides watching TV?"

"Not much. I'll be spending tomorrow with my parents from noon on. How about you?"

"Yeah ... well ... I'm spending tomorrow with Carolyn at her parents' place."

"No shit! You're driving a hundred miles to be with your girlfriend's parents on Christmas Day? What should I make of that?"

"I'll tell you about it when we get back. We're staying over and coming back Sunday. It should make a nice break for us. You really made Carolyn's year with that profit sharing check. I think she's spent it about ten times over already."

"It's the most fun I get all year, to tell the truth. There was lots of hootin' and hollerin' at the old corral yesterday afternoon, as Carolyn has probably already told you."

"I'm jealous. We don't see our bonuses until nearly February when the books are closed, and then it's nothing the size of yours. You really spoil your people, but you won't hear me complain."

"Yeah ... well ... it's been a great motivator. I just hope we can keep it up when the new addition is finished in April. I've found some new people for the shop, but it's a bit of a gamble that they'll fit in and work out well."

"Oh ... I've got a hunch you'll be fine. BTN is a great place to work. Everyone says so, so it must be true. Just keep doin' what you're doin' and you'll be okay. Anyway, have a Merry Christmas and say hi to your folks for me."

"You too, Paul. Thanks for calling. Bye."

I'd barely put the phone down when it rang again.

"Good Christmas Eve, Valentine." 

"Oh ... Merry Christmas ... Warren. How are you?"

"On my own this evening. Trip is off with his lady friend and Mrs. Davis has gone to her daughter's home for a couple of days."

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"My son and his lady will be here for our Christmas dinner. We'll do the usual gifts then. And you?"

"Spending the day with my parents. It's pretty traditional, too. Gifts around noon, then dinner at four. Gives us a few hours to digest my mother's wonderful cooking."

"Well, I've already received my Christmas present, thanks to you. I just wanted to call and wish you a Merry Christmas and thank you once again for all your help and guidance. I'd like to discuss what to do with the cars with you at some future date, but let's leave that until after the holiday season."

"I'd be glad to help in any way I can. I suspect that once the word gets out, our little part of the world is going to become quite well known to the collector community."

"You could be right. Ah well, a little notoriety can't hurt too much. Maybe even bring about some good. We could use some in this economy."

"Yes, we could."

"Once again, Merry Christmas, Valentine. I hope you have a wonderful day with your family. We'll talk again soon."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Warren. Thank you for calling."

I put the phone down and wondered if Trip's "lady" was still Monica. I noticed Warren didn't identify her by name. I wondered if he knew our history. I wondered also if Trip knew just how involved his father and I had become. Wouldn't I love to be a fly on the wall when that conversation came about, if it hadn't already. It was enough to make a fellow smile.

Friday, December 25th, 5:40pm

"Oh, brother. It seems like every year your mother makes more food than we can possibly eat, and I'm supposed to be on a diet. I don't think I'll be able to get up out of this chair for a while."

"Yeah. I think I could have done without that last helping and the dessert as well. What the heck, Dad, it only happens a couple of times a year. I guess we can survive it."

"I guess. You hand out the checks yesterday?"

"Yup. Made twelve people very happy. It's fun to play Santa."

"When do your new guys start?"

"I'm spreading them out over a couple of weeks. I've got one on each Monday starting January 4th. That should give Tommy some time to evaluate them. They're all out of work now, so they should be anxious to do well. They've got the experience. I just have to be satisfied they will do the work the way I want it done and fit in with our people. The worst thing that can happen is them causing problems on the shop floor."

"Yeah ... well ... Callaway Custom had a pretty good reputation for work, but he wasn't much of a businessman. Very disorganized. Couldn't rely on him to meet dates and was forever revising estimates. I'm sure that's what got him into trouble."

"That's the word, all right. How's your side doing these days?"

"Fine ... got all the work I need. I did like playing with that DeSoto, though. That brought back a lot of old memories."

"Dad, that car was built before you were born. Just what old memories are you talking about?"

"Aw, hell, you know what I mean. When cars were simpler. None of this electronic stuff, and power everything."

"I wanted to tell you about a discovery that was made locally. Warren Beeson II found two cars in his old factory. Apparently, his father snatched them out of Europe after the war and brought them into the country. One's a 1937 Mercedes and the other is a 1936 Bugatti. We've had them appraised and authenticated. You won't believe how much they're worth."

"We? How did you get involved?"

"Warren came to me for advice. I was pretty sure they were very special, so I put him in touch with a professional appraiser."

"You and Warren Beeson," my father said with an unbelieving look. "You mean, Warren the second?"

"The same," I grinned.

"After what his kid did to you?"

"That was Trip. His father isn't anything like him."

"I know that, but ... Jesus ... Val ...."

"Relax, Dad, it's business, and Warren is still a prominent man in the community."

"I suppose," he exhaled. "It still knocks me out."

"I was thinking ... I wonder what Trip will say when he finds out his father and I are working together. That should give him something to think about."

"Yeah," he said with a smirk, "it would, wouldn't it. Makes you wonder what dear little Monica will think too."

"When she finds out what those cars are worth, she'll wet herself."

"How much are they worth?"

"They're insured for five million," I smiled, waiting for my dad's reaction.

"Holy shit!"

"David ... language please," we heard mother call from the kitchen.

"Ain't that always the way. The rich get richer."

"Seems like it," I agreed.

Sunday, December 27th, 11:00am

"Hey, Val, how was Christmas?"

"Fine, thanks, Paul. How about you. You get along with Carolyn's folks okay?"

"Yeah. You know me. I can get along with anyone. Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know, besides my parents I mean. Carolyn and I are engaged. I gave her the ring Christmas morning."

"Well, I'll be damned. The town's most confirmed bachelor is engaged? I don't believe it."

"Believe it, man. I waited a long time for the right one to come along, and now I've got her ... or maybe she's got me. It's hard to tell who's happiest."

"Congratulations, Paul. I'm really pleased for you. Carolyn's a great girl. You can't miss with her."

"Yeah. I think so too. Anyway, her folks are happy, my folks are happy, and you're happy. That's the trifecta I was hoping for."

"When's the wedding?"

"Haven't decided that yet. I think I'll let the mothers and Carolyn work it out. I'm just along for the ride."

"You got it. That's how it works," I laughed.

Monday, December 28th, 12:15pm

"So what are you doing on New Years Eve, Doreen?" I asked between bites of my sandwich.

"Nothing, I guess. Carolyn and Paul wanted me to tag along with them, but I'd be a fifth wheel, and I'd rather not. What about you?" 

"Same. No plans. This past Christmas and New Years are the first since my divorce, so I haven't really thought about what to do with myself."

She stopped eating her salad and looked at me for a few moments before resuming her lunch.

"There's an open party at the community center. A lot of the people will be singles there. You wouldn't stand out on your own," she said, almost timidly.

"Same goes for you, I guess. Tell you what ... if you'll go ... I'll go."

She thought about it without looking at me for another few moments. Then she surprised me. "All right. You have a deal."

"Great. Looks like we'll have something to celebrate on New Years after all," I kidded. "Can I pick you up?"

"I guess. I assume that there'll be drinking at the party, so one of us will have to stay sober."

"I'm your guy. I don't drink much to begin with, so I'll pace myself and we'll be fine. You can really tear it up if you want to." I was laughing as I suggested it.

"Do I look like I'm a 'tear it up' kind of girl to you?"

"I don't know. Looks can be deceiving. I guess we'll find out Thursday night. I'll look after the tickets. What time should I call for you?"

"Well, how about nine o'clock?"

"Nine it is. I'm looking forward to it."

Thursday, December 31st, 9:00pm

"Good evening, Ms. Gordon. You look even more lovely than usual."

"Why thank you, Mr. Keating. You look very handsome in yourself in that suit. I think it's the first time I've ever seen you in a shirt and tie. Very nice."

"Thank you. These clothes are reserved for special occasions only. This definitely qualifies as a special occasion," I said as I helped her on with her coat.

Holding her hand, I guided her down the walkway from the apartment toward my Jaguar.

"Oh, Val. Is this yours?" 

"Yes. This is mine. Just like my suit, it comes out for special occasions."

"It's beautiful. Can cars be called sexy? I think this car is really sexy?"

"I don't see why not. If I'm going to escort a sexy lady, then what's more appropriate than a sexy car?" I got a nice smile in reply.

I held the door as she slipped carefully into the passenger seat of the E-type. 

"I smell leather," she commented as I got in.

"Yes. I had the seats and door panels redone recently. I have a very skilled Italian leather upholsterer that I call on for special projects," I said as I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"It is a beautiful car, inside and out. Very sleek. How old is it?" 

"It's a 1963 model, Series 1. It's the best of the best, I think. After a while, Jaguar kind of lost its way. The car got bigger and bulkier and uglier year after year. This car might be one of the top ten most beautiful cars ever built. At least, I think so, but then again, I'm biased."

I saw Doreen relax and sink back into the seat as we growled along toward the community center. I helped her out when we parked and brought an umbrella with us in case the rain started again. It was cold and damp and a good night to be indoors. 

I took Doreen's coat, and along with mine, handed it to the coatroom attendant. I took her hand again, almost by instinct, but she didn't shy away as she might have earlier. We were making some progress with being comfortable in each other's company. We certainly weren't having any problems at work. She was rapidly becoming the take-charge person I wanted at my side. Now, if I could just get her to loosen up a bit socially, we might just hit it off.

I went to the cash bar and showed the two complimentary drink tickets. A white wine for Doreen and a beer for me. The band had just started up, and they didn't sound too bad. I figured I'd wait until they played some slow ones before I asked her to dance. Thinking about it, it might be the first time I'd ever touched her with more than a handshake or the kiss on the cheek.

"I can see you like the band too," I ventured. She had been tapping her fingers to the rhythm of the tune they were playing.




Better Than New Ch. 02



"Yes. They do sound good, don't they? Do you like to dance?"

"I do. Care to join me?"

She gave me a winning smile and began to rise. "Let's go."

She really did like to dance. "You're really good," I offered.

"Thanks. It's been too long since I had a chance to enjoy myself like this. Thank you for suggesting it."

"Thank you for coming with me."

"I wouldn't have come with anyone else," she said, looking at me with a serious gaze."

"Well ... now I'm flattered."

"I mean ... I trust you. Trust is a big thing with me."

"Yes ... I can see that. It took you a while, but I'm glad we've reached that plateau."

She changed the subject. "What did you think about Carolyn and Paul's engagement?" 

"I'm happy for them both. Paul called me after they got back from her parents' place. I wondered if he would ever find the right woman for him. I think Carolyn's super. They're going to be great together."

Doreen smiled and seemed to pull me closer. "Yes. I think so too."

I don't know how long we danced, but holding her in my arms was becoming very comfortable, almost natural.

"I think I'd like to rest for a few minutes, Val. We've been out here for quite a while," she said with a smile.

"I didn't notice. I was too busy enjoying myself."

The band took a break and I went to the bar to buy Doreen another glass of wine while I switched to soda water.

"Can I tell you something ... something private?" she asked as we sat at the little table.

"Of course. I don't gossip."

"I know. This past six months has been the happiest time I've had in many, many years. You've given me an opportunity and supported me as I learned a business I knew absolutely nothing about. I'm very grateful for that. You can't know how much."

"I'm glad you're happy. I can tell by how you act each day. Now and then I see a dark cloud pass by you, but it doesn't seem to last. The guys like and respect you, and that's critical. They do the real work. You and I just organize things. I'm very proud of what you've accomplished so far."

"Thanks to you," she said. She paused for a few moments and I waited to see if there was more. 

"That dark cloud you mentioned. It's part of my past; a past I'm trying to forget. Someday I'll get up the courage to tell you the story. For now, I'm just thankful for what I've been given. I'm excited about the future for the first time in a long while. You're responsible for that, and I'm very grateful."

"Come on, let's dance," I said, trying to break the serious mood. She almost jumped to her feet.

As midnight approached, the obligatory champagne was distributed to each table.

"We could get pretty silly with this much for ourselves," Doreen suggested.

"Yes, we could. That wouldn't be all bad, would it?"

"I thought you were the designated driver?"

"I can always call a taxi instead."

"And leave that beautiful car here all by itself?" she asked in mock horror.

"Yeah ... I guess you're right. But don't let me hold you back. Celebrate. This is the beginning of a whole new year and you're on a roll. Good things are coming your way, I can just tell." 

"You know ... for the first time in a long time, I think you're right. I am going to celebrate."

As the countdown began, I put my arm around Doreen's waist and held her close. She didn't flinch, and didn't protest. We had made another step forward. Of course, a few glasses of champagne had loosened up her inhibitions. She was having fun, and I was having just as much fun watching her.

"Happy New Year, Val," she yelled over the noise of the crowd at the stroke of twelve. She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a wonderful, soul-searing kiss that I was completely unprepared for. 

"Happy New Year, Doreen," I finally responded as I recovered from the surprise.

We stood there, looking at each other for what seemed like minutes, but was likely only seconds.

"I shouldn't have done that," she said at last.

"I'd have been pretty disappointed if you hadn't," I said.

"I think I've had too much to drink."

"It's New Years Eve, Doreen. It's part of the tradition."

"I'm going to hate myself in the morning," she moaned.

"I hope not. Besides, the band is back in business and I would love to dance with you again."

"Oh ... yeah ... dancing. I think I remember how," she giggled. Now I knew she was going to be okay.

I took her in my arms and we began to slowly move together. We had no destination in mind, just holding each other and rocking slowly back and forth.

"I was right. You are the most beautiful woman here tonight."

"When did you say that," she challenged. She had pushed back from me slightly and was looking up at me with a questioning, but unfocused stare.

"I guess I've been saying it to myself ever since I saw you at your apartment."

"Are you trying to get me into your bed, Mr. Keating?"

"I decline to answer that question. If I say no, you'll be insulted that I wasn't sincere with my comment. If I say yes, you'll think the worst of me."

"You're trying to confuse me."

"How am I doing?"

"I think we should go now. I think I'm drunk. Did you do that to me, Mr. Keating?" 

"No ma'am. You did it all by yourself."

"I don't believe you. I'm never drunk. I don't even drink ... much."

"Well, you did have a little champagne to celebrate tonight. That must have been what did it."

"Yes ... you're right! That's it! It's the champagne. I knew there would be a reason. Are you going to look after me, Val?"

"Yes. I'm going to take you home and make sure you're safe in your own apartment."

"Oh ... yes. Safe. That's good. Safe. I want to be safe. You're my knight in shining armor, Val. You make me feel safe. You're so good to me. Will you marry me?"

"Uhhm ... not tonight. Maybe later, when you're feeling better."

"I feel fine. Why won't you marry me? You're my hero. You saved me."

"You can thank me tomorrow. Right now, I think I should get you home."

It was a struggle. Doreen was obviously not a drinker. She hadn't had that much, but she was clearly inebriated. I managed to get her coat on and guide her to my car, but within seconds of closing the door, she was asleep. When I got to her apartment building, she was only partly conscious as I helped her to the elevator and finally to her door. I fished around in her purse to find her keys and let us into the room. 

"You're so kind, Mr. Keating. You always try to help me. You're very kind. I'm very lucky that you are my husband."

I chuckled at that. "Your husband wants you to go to bed, dear. You're very tired and need your rest. Let's get you into bed."

I didn't attempt to undress her. I pulled back the duvet and placed her on the bed after removing her shoes and loosening her dress. I pulled the duvet up and left the apartment, hoping she would be all right until morning. 

As I drove home, I wondered about that strange conversation she was having in her drunken state. How much of that was imagination, and how much was something else. In vino veritas?

To be continued...

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their assistance and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.



Better Than New Ch. 03



Act 3

Friday, January 1st, 2:15pm

"Hi, Val speaking."

"Did I embarrass myself badly last night?" It was a voice from the bottom of a gravel pit. Doreen was obviously suffering.

"No, Doreen, you didn't. You had fun. You let loose and had fun. And so did I."

"Are you sure. I have some very strange memories from last night. How did I get home?"

"Well, you were very tired, so I brought you home and made sure you were comfortable."

"I was still wearing my dress when I woke up this morning. Was I that out of it?"

"Well, to tell the truth ... yes."

"Oh, god, I'm so embarrassed. I apologize, Val. I'll never do that again, I promise."

"Darn ... I had a great time last night. We danced and really enjoyed ourselves. I even got a kiss from you at New Years."

"I remember that. I'm not upset about that. It's what I can't remember clearly that worries me."

"Well ... let's see. You did ask me to marry you. You said I was your knight in shining armor, and then you said I was your husband. Other than that, not much really happened."

"Oh my god. I didn't ... did I?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh, this is awful. I can't begin to apologize to you. I never do anything like this. I feel terrible about it."

"Doreen ... relax. It was fun. You had a couple of glasses of champagne and it made you a bit silly. No harm was done. It was fun. I know I enjoyed myself, and if I get the chance, I'd love to go dancing with you again."

There was silence at the end of the line until, "Thank you, Val. I did have a good time. Maybe too good."

I caught the upbeat tone of her voice, telling me she wasn't worried about how I reacted to her actions.

"So ... maybe when the opportunity arises, you'd come dancing with me again?"

"Maybe, if you promise not to ply me with champagne."

"I promise."

Tuesday, January 12th, 8:15am

"Good morning, Valentine. I trust you are well?"

"Just fine, thank you, Warren. How can I help you?"

"I thought perhaps we should discuss the future plans for the two automobiles. Would you have some time this week?"

"I'll make time. What's convenient for you?"

"Well, if we could meet this afternoon, I'd like to talk about what it will take to make these vehicles mobile again."

"Yes, good idea. Would you mind if I brought my father with me. He's the mechanical expert and would keep us from making any mistakes."

"Excellent idea. Why don't you call him and see when he could free himself? It sounds like you and I have the most flexibility."

"I'll do that immediately and call you back."

After I had hung up, I dialed the service station and asked for my father.

"Hi, Dad. Do you think you could take some time this afternoon to come with me and meet Warren Beeson? He wants to put the two cars he has in running condition and I think your advice will be helpful."

"Sure. I'd love to. I was wondering if I'd get a chance to see five million bucks worth of automobile. How about two o'clock?"

"That'll be great, Dad. I'll pick you up. Warren will be expecting us."

I hung up after a couple of more minutes of chit chat and then immediately dialed the Beeson residence.

"Warren, my father and I should be there about two-fifteen. I think he's pretty excited about seeing these cars too. It didn't take him long to find the time to be there."

"Good! We can get started as soon as he's able." I got the distinct impression that the two cars had rekindled some excitement in Warren Beeson's life, and he was motivated toward getting them in running condition. He certainly was livelier than our first meeting last December.

"So, the great Warren Beeson needs my help, does he?" my father noted with a smirk as he slid onto the front seat of the panel van. He had loaded two tool boxes into the back.

"Me too, Dad. Wait until you see these cars. They are something to behold. The last thing I want to do is screw this up."

"Yeah ... I'll bet. You and Warren wouldn't be such great buddies then, would you?"

"This is bugging you, isn't it? I mean, my business relationship with Warren is eating at you. How come?"

"Aw ... don't pay any attention to me. I'm just jealous. He wouldn't give me the time of day, likely. He still carries a lot of weight in this town. It can't do you any harm to be on his good side."

"Or you either," I grinned. "He respects what we do, and he trusts me now. You put yourself in the same position and you never know what can come of it."

I heard a 'harrumph' from my father, but nothing more. I knew he wouldn't do anything to screw up this meeting, so I relaxed.

We walked up to the factory door after parking the van next to the building and entered. Warren was inside and had uncovered the cars.

"Good afternoon, Valentine. And you must be Mr. Keating, senior."

"Just call me Dave. Everyone does. Nice to meet you, Mr. Beeson," my father said as he put down the two tool boxes and shook Warren's hand.

"Nice to meet you too, but please call me Warren."

My father nodded.  

"Would you like to have a look at the cars? I've arranged some extra lighting so that you can inspect the workings more closely."

"Good idea. I brought my work light with me, so I can have a good look at the insides. I also have a set of metric tools. I'm sure I'll need them on these cars."

I watched my father put the fender blankets on and check to make sure there was no metal or buttons exposed on his smock. He started on the Mercedes after I showed him how the hood latches worked. He spent several minutes just inspecting the engine bay before switching off his light and turning to us.

"They just don't make cars like this any more. It's like trying to compare a Timex to a Rolex. It ain't fair. Do you know if there's an owner's manual for this one?"

"Yes ... we found one in the trunk," I said as I retrieved it and passed it to my father. 

He thumbed through it for a few moments. 

"Well, it's all in some foreign language, German I guess, but I think I can figure it out from the diagrams. You could damn near build this car from this manual," he said, shaking his head in wonder. 

I turned to Warren and asked, "Did the new tires and tubes arrive?"

"Yes ... they're over here," he said, walking to another area. 

I looked them over and checked the size compared to my notes. They matched. The tires were Continentals, looking very much like the originals. One less problem to worry about. 

"Where would you like me to work on these?" Dad asked.

"Why, I hadn't thought of that. What do you suggest?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to bring them to my shop. I'd say for now, we can work here if I make a few arrangements. I don't want to spill anything on these floors. I'm going to have to jack these cars up to remove the wheels. Then we can go to work on mounting the tubes and tires and at least make them moveable.

"After that, I'll need to check the brake lines, cooling system hoses, fuel lines, oil pan ... the works. No point in puttin' new fluids in if the hoses and lines blow out when we do. Looks like we'll need a new battery for each of them too. I suppose it'll be a six volt."

"Dave, can I hire you to do this work? You seem to know exactly what to do, and that's very important to me," Warren said. "If your son is a product of your teaching, then I'm confident that you'll do a good job."

"Nice of you to say that, Warren. Yes ... I think I can find the time. Hell ... I may never get another chance to work on million dollar cars, so I'd be a fool to pass up the opportunity. You got a deal," he said, holding out his hand. 

"Thank you," Warren replied, smiling as he shook my father's hand. "I feel a lot better now. Keating and Keating make a very good team."

My father smiled broadly as he nodded agreement, looking over at me. I hadn't seen my father this enthusiastic about a project in a long time. I was glad he was going to get the chance.

Friday, January 15th, 3:30pm

"It's hard to believe you've been here six months already, Doreen. It hardly seems like yesterday when you first came here. I don't know what to say other than I'm super-happy with how you've taken to the job. You're a lot farther ahead than I expected. You have good instincts and I have total confidence in you. I really can't think of a negative at all. You'll see another five percent raise in your next pay. It's fully deserved."

"Thank you, Val. I'm enjoying every minute of this job. It's everything a job should be. I like the challenge and the satisfaction I get from it. You listen to my suggestions, then you let me try them, even sometimes when I get the impression you don't think they're going to work," she chuckled. "Just the same, I get all the support from you and the men that I could ever ask for. Thank you and I hope we just keep going the way we're going." 

"What's your early assessment of the three new guys in Resto'?" I asked.

"Well, they've only been here a couple of weeks, but so far, so good. Two of them look like self-starters and seem to get along well with the other guys. The third one, Beauchamp, is a bit of a loner. I'll keep an eye on him. When do you think the new addition will be ready?"

"Still on track for April 15th. I've already taken a couple of new customers based on our three new men and the additional space. Don't forget, when Dad finishes with Warren's two cars, we're going to bring them here for safe keeping. We've got 24 hour patrol and this building is a lot more secure than the old factory thanks to our security system. Plus, I want to detail them to get ready for some concours showings."

"What does concours mean?"

"Concours d'Elegance. Fancy name for a car show for rich people. These cars have never been shown, and it's a way to let the serious collectors and the various collector magazine people know there are a couple of new kids on the block."

"Does Mr. Beeson intend to sell them?"

"I don't know. I thought so at first, but now I'm not so sure. If you saw how energized he is now compared to when he first came here, you'd understand. I guess we'll have to wait and see. I won't bother to guess what Trip would like him to do ... or if he even knows about them."

"Why don't you just get a gun and shoot him?" she taunted.

"Who?" I asked, startled at her comment.

"Trip, of course. You haven't got a good word to say about him, and yet you and his father are close. What is it about him that pisses you off so much?"

I sighed. It was time I came clean with Doreen about my relationship with Trip.

"My wife ... ex-wife ... had an affair with Trip. I didn't know anything about it until she came to me asking for a divorce. She was trading up. She was going to marry Trip and live the life of a wealthy woman."

Doreen had a funny look on her face. "I knew Trip had a girlfriend, but her last name wasn't Keating."

"No. It's Engblom. She kept her maiden name after we married. She was in the sales department at Beeson. I don't know who seduced who, but Trip knew me and knew Monica was married to me. I'm not sure he didn't do it just to spite me. Anyway, as mad as I was at Monica, I was just as pissed off with Trip. Both of them deserve each other."

"Other than that, no hard feelings, huh?" she smirked. 

"I guess it shows. I've been able to forget about it for the last six months, ever since the divorce became final. But once in a while, his name comes up and I see red all over again."

"You've got to put it into your forgotten past, Val. You're too good a guy to let those two aggravate you. I happen to think Monica made a very stupid mistake, one she can't ever take back. The woman would have to be a fool to give up a guy like you for a jerk like Trip."

I laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. What do you say we call it another good week and go home?"

"All in favor say aye," she said, rising from her chair and stretching. It was a pleasure to watch. Doreen was an attractive woman and I was wondering what it would take for her to agree to a date with me. Maybe a little dancing? A little champagne? No ... not champagne. I'll have to think about it.

Tuesday, January 19th, 7:05am

"So far, I've only had to change the two 'rad' hoses," my father explained. "Everything else looks pretty good. Did you know this machine has a supercharger? From what I can read on the internet, you can turn it on or turn it off. Independent rear suspension, too. Looks like a heavy-duty version of an old Volkswagen swing axle. I need to change some seals in the transmission and water pump. They'll need to be custom cut. I'm getting that done this week. 

"I pulled the plugs and sand blasted them and gapped them as per the manual. They didn't really need it, but there was no point in not doing it. I found a couple of batteries for the Mercedes, but I'm still looking for one for the Bugatti. I hope we don't have to do any adapting to get one to fit. Warren's made it clear that the more authentic everything is, the more valuable it is."

"So it's Warren, now, is it? I kidded.

"Yeah. You know, he's not a bad guy. He doesn't try to run the show or tell me how to do my job. He's not squawking about the prices I'm paying for some of this stuff. He just says 'Do it!' I could use a few more customers like him."

"I see the wheels are now mounted with tires. They look good."

"Yeah. I'd forgotten about tubes and seating them in the tire. I had to be careful, but we got them all done."

"When do you figure you'll be able to add the fluids?"

"Well, soon as we get the transmission and water pump seals, I should be able to finish her up. The brake fluid is already in, and I checked the fuel pump and it looks fine. Maybe this weekend."

"Make sure Warren is here for it every step of the way, Dad."

"Don't worry. I got that message," he grinned. 

"Have you looked at the Bugatti yet?"

"Just gave it a quick going over. That one scares me. No manual, so I have to make some educated guesses from what I can learn on the internet. It's got something called a dry sump. No oil pan. It's going to take a little longer to set that one up. Them French guys didn't build cars the same way we did. Got some funny stuff I've got to figure out before I turn the crank."

"Good luck."

I walked out of the old factory with a smile on my face. Dad was spending a lot of hours there, putting the two machines into running order. He assured me the garage was doing fine and his lead hand, Robbie, was looking after things. Just like being on vacation, he told me. It was too, in a way. Dad was just as pumped up about this project as Warren was. I felt really good about this, and I knew Mom was just as happy. She said he was like a new man.

"Everything okay at the factory?" Doreen asked.

"Yup. Dad's doing fine. I think he's having the time of his life. I don't remember seeing him this happy about work. He and Warren are getting along great."

"Wonderful. Would it be alright if I went over to see the cars sometime? I've heard so much about them now, I just wondered what all the fuss was about."

"Sure. I'm going over later this afternoon. Why don't you come with me?"

"Thanks, I'd like that."

Tuesday, January 19th, 3:30pm

"Oh, Val, they're amazing. What is the black and white one?"

"It's a Mercedes Benz 540K."

"And the blue and black one?"

"A Bugatti Type 57. The Mercedes is German, and the Bugatti is French."

"I like the Bugatti. It's really kind of art deco in a way."

"Art Deco?"

"Yeah ... you know. It looks like something out of a Hollywood movie from the thirties. Maybe Greta Garbo or William Powell would step out of it. It doesn't look like the square boxes I remember from the movies. It has that sexy, slinky look that sets it apart. You wouldn't own one of these unless you smoked cigarettes in a holder, or wore a tuxedo."

I was chuckling away as she offered her praise to the ancient automobile. She never took her eyes off it, running her hands softly over the fender surfaces. I was about to say something in warning, but thought better of it. She was treating it with reverence. 

"You must be an old film buff," I guessed.

"I'm not that old," she turned and teased.

"I mean the movies, not you."

"I knew that. Yes ... I do love the old movies. They were so ... staged. So ... formal. I guess it was because of the times. When these cars were built, the world was in the great depression. It didn't seem possible that people could own cars like this. But movie stars could. They lived in their own little dream world. No need to worry about where the next meal would come from. It was all so ... artificial."

During the entire conversation, she never took her eyes off the car. I decided then that I was going to arrange with Warren to have Doreen ride in the Bugatti. It would be something she would remember for a long, long time. 

Monday, February 8th, 7:00am

I had gathered the employees together to make an announcement.

"Just a brief meeting to tell you about something special that will happen later this morning. We will become the guardians of two very rare, very expensive automobiles. The first, arriving today, will be a 1937 Mercedes Benz. Its potential value is over two million dollars."

I waited for the shock and surprise to subside.

"Needless to say, we need to treat this car with the utmost care and caution. They are owned by Mr. Warren Beeson Senior, of Beeson Industries. The second car will arrive later this month. These cars have been prepared after almost sixty-five years of storage. They are show cars, insured for over five million dollars."

Again, I waited for the murmurs and further surprise to die down.

"I want you to treat them like the jewels they are. They are irreplaceable. They will be moved to various shows to exhibit them, but returned here for secure storage. We are entrusted with their care and security. It's something very special for Better Than New. I know I can count on you to protect them. Thank you."

"They weren't expecting that," Doreen offered.

"No ... I'm sure they weren't. Are you worried?"

"No ... not really. Excited, but I think the guys will make sure they're safe."

"I'm betting on that in a big way."

"I got confirmation from the insurance company today. We'll let them know when we expect the second car. As of now, you're covered. But I do have a question."

"Shoot."

"How are you going to get them from here to where they are going to be shown?"

"Special transporter. We arrange for it in advance. They are specialists at moving exotic automobiles and carry their own insurance. Naturally, the more valuable the car, the more it costs to move, but I haven't heard a peep out of Warren about the costs. I've laid them all out for him, so he knows what to expect. This really is a rich man's hobby."

"Is you father still having fits over the Bugatti?"

"Not so bad now. He's been getting help on-line with some new acquaintances he's made. There's quite a community of experts out there, so they want to know all about what he's working on. He can't tell them everything, but he's getting the help he needs. There's a bunch of very curious people who want to know more about that car. There are only so many pre-war Bugattis left in this world, so the interest is very high."

"I really like your dad. He's very down-to-earth. He loves what he's doing too. He's exploring and learning something new. He's got a smile on his face no matter how frustrated he gets."

"Yeah, I saw that too. It has been really great for him."

Monday, February 8th, 10:45am

Tommy opened the big back door to the restoration shop. We heard the Mercedes before we saw it. It approached the door slowly and carefully, and I was delighted to see Warren driving it, my father sitting beside him. Warren killed the engine and they got out. Both of them were wearing smiles a mile wide. Four of our men, wearing cotton gloves, pushed the heavy machine into a pre-selected place in a corner of the room. 




Better Than New Ch. 03



"Well, everything go according to plan?" I asked.

"Almost. Dave and I decided to take a little spin in the country, just to make sure the supercharger worked," Warren grinned, almost laughing aloud.

"Well?"

"You should hear it, Valentine. I've never heard a sound like that in all my born days. It was like a song, wasn't it Dave?"

"It sure was. I think we turned some heads when we came back through town," my father said.

"I'll bet you did. Everything check out okay, Dad?"

"Yes. Oil and water temps were right on the middle of the gauge, and the brakes and clutch were fine. It started on the second crank, and came to life like it had been running every day. That sound is something else. Gives you goose bumps."

The shop had come to a standstill as the car arrived, and it was getting a professional inspection both inside and out.

"Is it true this car hasn't been restored?" Tommy asked.

"Absolutely. Amazing, isn't it?"

Tommy just shook his head in wonder as did several other men who were listening. 

I felt Doreen as she came up beside me, and seconds later was joined by Carolyn.

"It's even more striking here in this light," Doreen said. "I can't wait to see the Bugatti when it's running."

Carolyn had walked over to the Mercedes and gingerly touched the steering wheel. "It's so big. Huge headlights, and two spare tires. It's amazing."

"Is it true a Nazi officer owned this car?" Doreen asked.

"As far as we can tell. If you look on the dashboard, you'll see the plaque.

Doreen walked the car and peered in. She was focused on the plaque, then turned and came back to my side.

"It's so strange to see the Nazis invoking God when they acted the way they did."

"Is that what the slogan says?"

"Yes. 'Gott mit uns' means God with us."

"I didn't realize you spoke German," I said.

"Yes. My grandparents had our name anglicized from its original, Goering, when they escaped Leipzig after the war."

"I assume Leipzig was in East German?"

"Yes. We were lucky to get out before the restrictions were too great. My grandfather was an engineer, and his skill was valuable in this country, so we were allowed to immigrate."

"And you speak and read German?"

"Yes. I was brought up to be multilingual in German and Czech. Our original home was in what was called Sudetenland, part of Czechoslovakia. That was a long time ago."

"Are your parents and grandparents still alive?"

"My grandmother is eighty-nine, and lives with my parents in Virginia. All my other grandparents are dead. My father is still working for the U.S. Department of Energy. He's been involved in alternate energy development for many years."

"You must be very proud of him. He's doing important work," I said.

"Yes. I am. But I don't see him very often."

"Well, it is a long way from San Rafael to Virginia."

She looked at me as if she wanted to tell me more, but then looked away, saying nothing. It was that strange, blank look that I saw only once in a while now. I wondered what she was thinking. What was it that she wouldn't or couldn't tell me? 

Thursday, February 11th, 4:00pm

Doreen walked to my desk to pick up the last of the signed paperwork for the day.

"Are you free to come to my place on Saturday night? I'm having a little dinner party for Carolyn and Paul, and I thought you'd like to be there. We can celebrate your birthday at the same time."

"That's sounds very nice," I said. "I'd be happy to come."

"Why don't you come over about four-thirty? That will give us some time to visit. I won't serve dinner too early."

"I'll be there," I smiled. It sounded like a very pleasant evening.

I stretched and stood, trying to work the kinks out of my body after been at my desk most of the afternoon. It was dark already, and fog off the bay was working its way back up towards us. I toyed with the idea of another coffee, then rejected it, knowing it wouldn't taste very good this long after it was brewed.

"I need to get more exercise," I said aloud, more to myself than anyone.

"Have you played any golf lately?" Doreen asked absently.

"Nope. Paul's been completely occupied by Carolyn, so I haven't had a chance."

"Well ... I play golf. Seems to me, the last time we played, I put a beating on you."

I could tell she was baiting me. "Okay, Doreen, if you call four strokes a beating, I demand satisfaction. A rematch."

"All right, but it was five strokes, and in my book, that's a beating."

"So just when will this rematch take place?"

"If you're not doing anything on Sunday, we could play then. The weather's not supposed to be too bad."

"Sunday it is. Do you want me to book a time in the mid-morning?"

"Sounds about right. We shouldn't be too hung over from the night before," she teased.

I picked up the phone book and called the pro shop at Sunnydale. It didn't take long to get a tee time. It didn't sound like they'd had too many bookings at that point.

"We're on for 10:16. Want me to pick you up?"

"Sure, that would be nice, thanks."

Saturday, February 13th, 4:25pm

"Hi ... come in. You don't do fashionably late, I see."

"Sorry, didn't mean to be too early. You look very ... nice," I stumbled. She did too. A tight red sweater and a black, floor length skirt. I was reminded again just how well she filled out her clothes.

"You were about to say 'sexy,' weren't you." She was smiling slightly as she accused me.

"Guilty as charged. Can't put anything by you, can I?

She ignored my confession. "What would you like to drink? A beer?"

"That'll be fine, thanks."

Doreen was back shortly with a filled beer mug and her usual glass of white wine.

She sank into a large over-stuffed chair facing me. I had chosen the sofa. She raised her glass and I responded with my mug in a toast.

"Here's to my first dinner party."

"Health and good fortune," I responded.

"So far, so good."

I looked at her with a questioning stare.

"My health is good and I've had very good fortune in the last year. I was ready for some."

"I'm glad to hear it. I don't know much about your past before I met you. I know your grandparents escaped from East Germany, and your father works for the government, but not much else."

I got the distinct impression I had just asked the wrong question at the wrong time.

"Let's save that for another time. I needed to get away when I was out of school. I spent a couple of years at a community college in Alexandria, then moved out here. I got lucky ... sort of ... when I got the job at Beeson. Mr. Beeson Senior was running it at the time. I'd been there ever since until you rescued me," she smiled reluctantly.

"Where did you pick up the rest of your education? That framed diploma on the wall in the office says you've got some kind of degree in commerce from U.S.F."

"It isn't a diploma. It's a master certificate for supply chain management. I took it online. I also took some marketing courses. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my 'career,'" she said, using her fingers to form the quotation marks. "I didn't know until I came to work for you. I get to do everything at your place. It's as if I'd been waiting for just that opportunity."

"Lucky me," I smiled.

"No ... lucky me."

"Do you see your parents often?"

"No. My father travels a bit, and I try to see him whenever he's in the Bay area. Maybe once a year or so."

"That's too bad. Maybe you should think about going back and visiting. I'm sure your mother would be happy to see you."

"I can't," she said, looking down into her hands. "I'll explain it someday ... but not today. We're supposed to be celebrating Paul and Carolyn's engagement, and your birthday." She forced herself to smile. I knew well enough to drop the subject. I had already upset her twice by stomping into her personal life without thinking.

"I'm sorry, Doreen. I'm afraid I'm being far too nosy for my own good. I apologize."

"It's all right. I'm willing to tell you, but I wouldn't want to be interrupted when I do."

The dead air that followed was finally interrupted by the door chime. We both stood as Doreen went to the door and greeted Carolyn and Paul.

Saturday, February 13th, 11:05pm

"Thank you so much for the party, Doreen. It was lovely. The dinner was excellent. As soon as Paul and I are settled in our new place, we'll have you two over and you can test my cooking."

"That'll be fun. When do you move in?

"April first ... April Fools Day. How's that for risking our necks?" Paul chuckled.

"My advice," I said, "knowing you, is to suggest you move in the next day. Don't tempt fate."

"You could be right. But ... like everything else, I'll let Carolyn decide. She's way smarter than me."

"Good night, you guys. Have fun," Carolyn said with a not-so-subtle wink.

I was about to move to the coat stand when I felt Doreen's hand on my arm, holding me back. She closed the door and turned to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me deeply. I had only ever had one kiss that was as passionate as this, and that was on New Years Eve.

"I've been working up the nerve to do this since before Christmas. I chickened out then, so I decided I'd do it New Years. You know how that turned out. So, I've been waiting for almost two months to tell you how I feel about you," she murmured in a husky voice.

"What about the 'no office romances' thing?"

"I chucked that away a long time ago. I figured that if I waited too long, some other woman was going to snap you up and I'd be left out in the cold. I wasn't going to let that happen," she growled with a determined look.

"So ... I'm the chosen one, huh?"

"Yeah. Does that bother you?"

"Well ... I should say yes, but to tell the truth, I've been trying to figure out a way to get past your 'no romance' declaration for some months."

"So ... then ... you are attracted to me?"

"Of course. Don't you look at yourself in the mirror? You're a very beautiful woman who happens to be smart, honest, and dedicated. I can't think of anything that you don't have that I want. I was just being careful. You react funny quite often if I put a foot wrong. That kind of kept me off balance, to tell the truth."

"I'll try not to do that any more. I'm probably being too aggressive, but ... can I tell you something ... something just between you and me?"

"Of course."

She stammered and stuttered before she came out with it. "I'm falling for you, Val. I can't help it. You haven't done a thing to encourage me except treat me like someone special every day. You've barely touched me ... but ... you have touched me. More than you know." 

I leaned in and kissed her as fully and intensely as I could. I got a very nice response. I pulled back a bit, an unspoken question on my face. 

"There's only so long a guy can go lusting after a beautiful woman before he cracks," I whispered. 

"There's only so long a woman can go lusting after a wonderful man. I'm afraid I've already cracked."

"Then I'd better help put you back together again."

"Yes. Please. Put me back together again," she moaned as she led me to the bedroom. 

Sunday, February 14th, 8:15am

I was greeted with a croaky "Good morning" as I opened my eyes. A sleepy, tousle-haired Doreen reached out and stroked my cheek gently. I had my hand on her hip, and instinctively, I pulled her to me.

"Good morning," I replied coarsely, carefully avoiding her mouth by kissing her neck and nibbling on her earlobes.

"Happy Birthday," she said as she closed her eyes while I continued my kisses.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I answered. 

"It certainly is," she grinned, reaching for my morning erection.

"Ohhhhh ... babe, can I have my birthday present now?"

She pretended to think about it, before swinging her leg over my hip, pushing me on my back, and mounting me.

"Thank you," I groaned, "it's just what I wanted, too."

"Good ... because I got what I wanted for Valentine's Day. I got a Valentine, and it's all mine."

"Looks like both of us got what we wanted."

"Hmmmm ... ohhhhhhh Val, keep doing that."

"I thought you might be a bit sore after last night."

"Just a little bit. It's been a long time since I've been with someone. You're just too good to resist. You and I are very good together you know."

"Yeah, I got that impression too. Too bad it took us this long to figure it out."

She was silent for a while before, "I had to be sure. Even last night I was a bit anxious. You took all that away. You were so gentle and giving. I've never had anyone make me feel the way you did. That washed away all the uncertainty."

"I'm glad. I couldn't handle it being a one night thing. You're too important to me."

We were quiet for a while until my stomach decided to announce the need for food. Doreen laughed as she heard the rumble.

"Come on, let's get something to eat before you expire. You're going to need to keep up your strength. I'm going to wax you at golf again." She wore a sly grin and a raised eyebrow.

"You go ahead. I'm going to shower and use the bathroom. I'll see if I can clean myself up a bit."

"I like a man with a rough-hewn look. There are some new toothbrushes in the top drawer, and help yourself to the shampoo."

I kissed her several times before I forced myself to get out of bed and head for the bathroom, naked. I got a low whistle from my new lover as I made my way.

I'd been in the shower only long enough to shampoo and rinse my hair when the glass door slid open and Doreen joined me.

"We might as well do this together. You can wash my back ... and other places if you want."

"I want." I picked up the bottle of body wash while Doreen was soaking her hair. As she shampooed, I took a soft wash cloth and went over her body very carefully and very thoroughly. After she finished rinsing her hair, she turned to me.

"I see I've got you interested again," she chortled as she gently held my growing erection.

"Something about the company I keep that causes it."

She had one hand on my cock while she wrapped the other arm around my neck and treated me to another of her wonderful, deep kisses. 

"I don't think I can handle any more right now," she admitted, but then dropped her haunches and looking up at me mischievously, took me in her mouth and proceeded to give me a world-class blow job.

I had very little left in the tank, but she accepted it before rising and renewing her kiss. 

"Happy Birthday, my Valentine."

"Very happy birthday. The best ever."

Sunday, February 14th, 9:05pm

"I think this might be the best day I've ever had," Doreen said into my chest. 

"That's a pretty big statement. But I know what you mean. We still have a lot to learn about each other."

"Like what?"

"Oh ... like ... favorite foods, or music, or movies, or how I can beat you at golf. 

"That's going to be tough. You got a little closer today, but ... ha-ha ... I still beat you," she boasted.

"It was close enough it could have gone either way."

"I'll be disappointed if you don't keep trying. If I know you ... you will. It's one of those things I love about you."

"Oh, oh. You've used the "L" word. Be careful now, girl."

She rolled toward me, pushing the bed sheet down. "No! No more careful. I've been careful for too long. I know what I want ... and it's you. You've spent the last few months seducing me. I surrender. You win. I win. I'm in love with you."

"Do you suppose we'll remember this day for a very long time?"

"Don't change the subject. I just told you I love you. Don't you have anything to say?"

"Well ... when you put it that way .... I love you too. I'm not sure when that happened, but it was definitely before last night. You probably have guessed that some things can get in the way of clear thinking when you've just gone through a divorce."

"I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I don't want to pressure you. I just want to know that you care about me the way I care about you. You are the man I've always wanted. I didn't know it until you came along. I never had anything to compare it to. Now I know better."

"You're making me out to be some kind of superstar. I'm just a guy. I have my faults, just like any other guy. Don't put me on a pedestal and expect miracles. I just want to be who I am. Monica always wanted me to be something more. I was always a disappointment to her. I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations of me."

"Val, I've worked with you for the last seven months. I think I've seen enough to know who you are. Don't denigrate yourself; it doesn't look good on you. Warren Senior respects you. To me, that says something." 

"I think that's the second most surprising thing that's happened."

"What's the first?"

"You. I wondered if we'd ever find a way to have even a close, friendly relationship. Then, all of a sudden, here we are."

"I hope you think it's a nice surprise."

"You already know the answer to that, babe. It seems to me we've spent the last twenty-four hours confirming it."

"Let's confirm it some more."

Monday, February 15th, 12:20pm

"Hello, Val. Long time no see," my ex-wife said as she approached. I had been sitting in the food court at the mall, reading a collector magazine when she approached out of the crowd, surprising me.

"Monica. How are you?" I didn't put any enthusiasm into my question.

"Fine. And you?"

"Surviving."

"That's not what I hear. I hear you're expanding."

"Who told you that?"

"Does it matter?"

"You should learn to get your facts straight. If I expand, it will be with the best wishes of my bank manager. Which brings up another subject. What will it take to buy back my 15%? The last person I want involved in my business is you."

"Oh ... you're really pissed at me, aren't you?" she smirked. 

"You could say that. How much?"

"Ten percent above assessed value."

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"My lawyer. She figured I should at least show a profit from the sale."

"Your lawyer is way up there on the list of people I'd most like to see struck by lightning." 

"I'll bet I'm high up on that list too," she snorted.

"Good guess. Now, how do want this done. Certified check, I imagine."

"That'll do nicely."

"Last year's tax evaluation alright?"

"Yes."

"You still working for Trip?"

"Yes."

"I'll send it to you there."

"Fine. I hear you stole a couple of Trip's employees. Is this a way to get even with him?"

"Nope. Just coincidence. They couldn't wait to get out of there."

"Well, I've moved on. Too bad you can't."

"Don't go gettin' all weepy and sorry for me now, Monica. That just wouldn't be like you."

"Don't worry, I haven't shed any tears over you. You're part of my past. My future looks a lot better."

"We'll see. You never know how things are going to turn out. Anyway, I'll get the money to you as soon as I can."

"Goodbye, Val. I'll probably see you around." 

With that she turned and strolled off down the mall. I had a hard time coming to terms with just how cold she was. Absolutely no feeling whatsoever for the eight years we were together. I was just another piece of used luggage that she tossed aside when it suited her. 

When I thought about it, I was relieved. I didn't have an ounce of forgiveness for her, and looking back, I could see that I was so much better off it wasn't worth worrying about. However my life turned out, I would never look back with regret.

To be continued

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.



Better Than New Ch. 04



Val gets an unexpected visitor and Doreen finally reveals her secret.

Act 4

Monday, February 22nd, 3:45pm

"Hi Val. Just thought I'd give you a heads-up. The Bugatti is about ready to roll. I phoned Warren this afternoon and he'll be over here tomorrow morning. We're going to take it for a test drive first, then come over to BTN before lunch if everything works out."

"Good, Dad, glad to hear it. So what are you going to do with your time now that the fun is over?" I kidded.

"Funny you should mention that. I think Warren wants to talk to us about another project. This one might be a bit bigger. I'll let him tell you about it."

"What about your shop. Is everything under control there?"

"Yeah. They're doing just fine without me. In fact, I'm thinking of selling it to Robbie and Karl. That would free me up to do some special stuff. I'd just rent some space and equipment from them. Your mother thinks it's a good idea, so that's two votes in favor. What do you think?"

"Well, if Mom thinks it's okay, then I guess I can go along with it. But ... let's talk about it first. There may be some other options."

"Sure. It's just an idea for now. No panic to do it."

"See you about noon then," I said, signing off.

I turned to Doreen. "Your favorite car is arriving today. Should be here by noon."

"Oh good. God, what I wouldn't give for a ride in it."

I tucked that wish into my list of things to do for my girl. I doubted Warren would turn me down.

Tuesday, February 23rd, 12:30pm

"Everything go okay on the test drive?" I asked.

"Just fine. Your father has this car running absolutely perfectly. I couldn't hope for more."

"I wonder if I might ask a favor, Warren. Doreen would love to have a ride in this car. She's been lusting after it since the first time she saw it. Says it reminds her of the old Hollywood movies from the thirties."

"Oh, of course. I'd be delighted. In fact, why don't you, your father, and Ms. Gordon join me for lunch? I'll drive her out, and bring her back."

"That would be great, but I don't want to impose on you."

"No imposition at all, Valentine. Besides, we have some additional business to conduct, if you are interested."

"I'm certainly willing to listen. I'll get Doreen."

I walked into the portable and found my new girlfriend with her head buried in paperwork.

"Okay, babe. Close up the books. I'm taking you to lunch."

"You are. What's the occasion?"

"You've been asked to join Dad, Warren, and me for lunch at the Beeson home."

"I have?" The surprise was complete.

"Come along, girl. Your ride is waiting."

As we stepped out of the portable office, Doreen stopped and gasped as she saw the Blue and Black car shining in the midday sun.

"Oh, Val. It's so beautiful."

"Come along then, Ms. Gordon," Warren said as he opened the passenger side door. "Mrs. Davis will be anxious about lunch being delayed."

The look on Doreen's face was priceless. She was walking as if in a trance toward the car, then sliding inside before Warren shut the door and walked around to the driver's side. Dad and I watched as Warren pulled away smoothly and headed to his home. We followed in the van at a discreet distance.

"What an amazing car," she exclaimed as she met us in the driveway. "It was so quiet, yet it just sailed along. I felt like I was in a movie or something."

"I can tell from the look on your face that you enjoyed it," I grinned.

"Yes. Every second. The only part that felt strange ... there's no seat belt, and the seat isn't like the ones in the new cars. It was a bit slippery. It really felt strange at first."

Warren led the way into the stately home, with Mrs. Davis meeting us and taking our coats. It was interesting to see my father had dressed for the occasion, and not in his usual coveralls. He was enjoying every second of this adventure.

After lunch, we moved to the library as Warren had indicated he wanted to talk to us. I had made sure he knew Doreen was an integral part of my business, so there was no question she would be there as well.

"I have to confess that the past two months have awakened a long dormant passion of mine. I have always been a bit of a 'car nut,' but never really allowed myself the time to indulge. Your work, Dave, to make them roadworthy again has been fascinating to watch. I want to be able to drive these cars, as well as show them.

"I wonder if we might form a partnership that would find and restore special cars from the past; bringing them up to concours status? Naturally, I would fund these projects. I expect you would run this venture at a profit."

It took me a minute to offer a comment. "Restoration work on old cars can be very, very expensive. There is seldom any return on that investment, other than the pride of ownership. Only one car in a hundred would fetch a profitable price."

"I'm aware of that, Valentine. This would be a hobby that would give me something to look forward to. Beeson Industries is in decline. It has been for some time. Most of my wealth comes from investments in property development. I could see the future of the furniture business was going to be limited quite a few years ago, so I diversified and have done so ever since.

"I've always felt some responsibility to the employees that they have as much job security as I can practically provide, but sadly, that won't be for much longer. The land that the business sits on is far more valuable than the business itself."

"Am I out of line in suggesting you've talked to my father about this already?"

Warren smiled, "Yes. Your father and I share a love of these fine old vehicles. As your father will tell you, he can understand them, unlike the new machines of today. I think we both discovered just how much pleasure we could derive from bringing them back to life."

I saw my father nodding as Warren spoke.

I stated, "If we were going to do this as a full fledged business, we would need to merge the bodyshop with the mechanical shop. It would mean reconfiguring BTN. I'm already in the middle of an expansion, so it would take a bit of thinking to pull it all together."

"Yes, I understand. However, you do have some additional space on the new property you've added which would permit the construction of the mechanical facilities. They could be designed specifically to suit the type of work your father and his people would be doing."

"I suppose so. Do you have an idea of what you'd need, Dad?"

"Funny you should ask," he chuckled. Warren handed him a roll of blueprints and he passed them to me. I looked at them and immediately realized they were the outline of a further extension to my new building. Marked out in red ink were machine and equipment locations that had obviously been added afterwards. I was sure they were in my father's hand.

"This has all the look of a conspiracy," I said, turning to Doreen. "What do you think?"

"I think my job just got a whole lot more complicated," she smiled.

Thursday, April 22nd, 9:45am

My head snapped up when I heard the sharp rap on my door frame. As usual, the door was open, but never before filled with the unexpected visitor.

"Hello, Trip, what can I do for you?" I didn't frame my question in a welcoming tone.

"I wouldn't mind a word with you in private. Perhaps your secretary can find somewhere else to work?" he said with a sour look at Doreen.

"Ms. Gordon is the Administrative Manager of this business and as such is involved in all my business affairs." I wasn't about to put up with his bullshit arrogance.

"I consider this more of a personal nature." He wasn't bending.

"Concerning what?"

He hesitated before answering, then, "My father."

"My relationship with your father is strictly business. Ms. Gordon stays."

I could see him flush as his anger began to get the better of him. It was time to wait him out.

"Very well. I want to know just what that business is about. As far as I can tell, my father is about to squander hundreds of thousands of dollars or more on some ridiculous scheme to restore old cars. I'm here to put a stop to it."

"Oh, really. Have you discussed this with your father? After all, it was his idea, and as far as I know, it is still his money." 

"Don't give me that, Keating. This is your perverted way of getting even with me for stealing your wife. Not that it took any effort."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, doing my level best not to explode at this asshole.

"Trip, you may not know it, but you did me a favor taking Monica off my hands. I've done a lot better ... light years better ... since she left. I guess I should thank you, but I can't really bring myself to reward you for being the slime-ball you are. Now, I suggest if you have a problem with how your father wants to pursue his new hobby, you take it up with him. In the meantime, I have work to do, so you can run along."

That last shot had really elevated his blood pressure, and it was all he could do not to explode.

"You haven't heard the last of this, Keating. I'll have my lawyers on your case by the end of the day. This isn't over," he snarled as he turned and stormed out of the building.

I stood, watching him go, boiling with mixture of anger and resentment. I had won this little skirmish, and I wasn't in the least bit worried about his threat of siccing his lawyers on me. On the other hand, I wondered if he could cause his father all kinds of problems that might interfere with our plans for the new business. 

I was still clenching my fists when I felt two soft hands on my shoulders.

"Take it easy, Val. He's gone and he can't do anything to you. I thought you handled that perfectly. Especially the part about how you thanked him for taking Monica. The look on his face was something to behold."

"Let's just hope he can't cause Warren any grief. He's so completely committed to our project that I don't know what would happen to him if Trip got in the way."

She stepped in front of me, her arms around my neck.

"Light years better?"

She made me smile. "Yeah ... light years."

Thursday, April 22nd, 4:15pm

"Better Than New, Val speaking,"

"Hello, Valentine. Do you have a moment?"

"Yes, of course, Warren. How can I help you?"

"Well, I suspect it's more a matter of how I can help you. I understand you had a visit from my son this morning."

"Yes, Trip was here."

"I suspect it was to try and put a stop to our new venture. That was certainly the theme of his message to me."

"Yes ... but as I explained to him ... this is your project and your money and I wasn't about to interfere with the wishes of my partner."

"Yes ... well ... I don't think he liked that answer very much. However, I spent several hours with him today, explaining just how things were going to change. I don't think he's very happy with me right now, and I don't expect that will change in the near future. Perhaps you and I can have coffee tomorrow morning at your shop and I'll lay out what I have planned for Beeson Industries and our venture. I think you'll understand then just why my son is very displeased with me at present."

"You're always welcome here, Warren. Come when you are ready. The coffee will be fresh and the atmosphere friendly."

I heard his soft chuckle as he said, "I'll be there early. Good afternoon, Valentine."

"Good afternoon, Warren."

Friday, April 23rd, 7:20am

"You weren't fooling when you said early," I kidded as Warren sat in the chair across from me in our new meeting room. "How do you like the new offices?"

"Very nice. Very much in keeping with your style, Valentine. Clean, tidy, efficient, professional. Very nice," he repeated.

"Thank you." This was Warren's meeting, and I was waiting for him to begin.

"As I told you, I had quite a long session with my son, yesterday. He's quite upset with me, and that provoked some heated exchanges between us. I thought that it was time I laid out the facts of life for him. 

"He's never really been involved in my business affairs, other than to manage the store. Quite frankly, he's not very good at it, as I'm sure Ms. Gordon and Ms. Findlay have told you. Ever since his mother died, he's been struggling to find himself. He was our only child, and his mother doted on him. When she was gone, he had a very difficult time. 

"On my own, I'm afraid that I took refuge in my business rather than with my son. He was left in the care of my housekeeper. I had hoped that a conventional education in public school would have helped socialize him rather than a private school. Perhaps that was a bad decision. You went to school with him, Valentine, so you know what he was like then. I suspect he wasn't very sociable."

"He had friends, Warren, but I don't think they were real friends. Perhaps they were impressed by his status, and your wealth. I didn't have much to do with him at school. We moved in different circles."

"Yes ... I'm sure you did. When he went off to college, I was again hoping that he would temper his attitudes and act in a more congenial fashion with his peers. However, he got involved with one of the elite fraternities and that only cemented some of his values in place. When he graduated, he wasn't ready to go to work. He didn't know how. He'd never had to work for anything. Frankly, I didn't know what to do with him.

"It was about that time that I knew the furniture business wasn't going to be the future of Beeson Industries, and I diversified into real estate and property development. Thinking he couldn't really do too much harm, I gave him management of the retail store. I'm afraid my worst fears were realized when I heard how he was behaving. Unfortunately, I didn't have anything else that I could entrust him with."

Warren leaned back and sipped his coffee. He was silent for a while before uttering a sigh.

"Yesterday, the time had come for me to have a frank discussion with him. I won't go into all the details, but to be honest, I was both angry and frustrated with my son. He seems to have learned nothing in his thirty-three years on this earth. He has a sense of entitlement that allows him to think he will just go on the way he has without interruption. Yesterday, I disabused him of that notion.

"I have told him that I will be selling the retail furniture store to a national chain sometime in the next month. The offer has been on the table for some time, and I have been procrastinating because I didn't know what I wanted to do about him. At any rate, he was at first shocked, and then questioning me about what his new job would be. When I told him I didn't have a job for him, he became quite upset.

"I have told my son that his future is in his own hands. He supposedly has a college education and some experience, and it is now up to him to make his way in the world. I will be no longer able to help him. He knows that I am very wealthy, and I believe that he expected that I would simply hand over some of that wealth to him to allow him to maintain his frivolous lifestyle. He knows now that I will not. Oh, he will still inherit when I'm gone, but for now, he's on his own.

"I am fifty-nine years old, Valentine. I have been a widower for almost twenty-five years. I loved my wife with every fibre of my being, and when I lost her, I was lost too. I've never even thought about remarrying. Business became my life, and now my son and I are paying the price for that. However, the discovery of those two wonderful automobiles in the old factory has had a dramatic effect on me. With the help of you and your father, I'm alive once more. I have something to look forward to. Something to live for."

I don't think I'd moved a muscle while he had poured out this story to me. I almost felt sorry for Trip. I had been raised in a loving family with both a father and mother. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like without my mother there. That made what came out of my mouth next almost incomprehensible.

"Is there no place for Trip in this new venture?" I asked, wondering what in the hell I was thinking.

Warren looked at me with a warm smile. "After what he did to you? Would you even consider it?"

He knew. "He's your son. I won't pretend I like or respect him, but ... he's your son."

Warren was shaking his head. "Valentine, I don't think you know just how remarkable you are. You don't have children, do you?"

"Not yet."

"Don't wait too long. I think you will be a very good father. Don't wait too long."

"Let me give some thought to what we might do with Trip," I suggested. "We're going to need someone to scout out the opportunities. I wonder if he could handle that. You and he could visit the prospects, then come back and we could discuss whether they fit our capabilities. I won't pretend I want to work with him, but maybe with the two of you together, some of your style will rub off on him."

"Valentine, I won't do anything to upset the relationship we have. If my son is to be a part of this, it will be my responsibility to make sure he acts and performs in a manner that will reflect favourably on our company. Let me give this some thought. Then, with your permission, I'll talk to him and see if he can muster any enthusiasm for working side by side with his father."

"I hope he realizes what an opportunity it would be. It's a pretty exotic business, and you'll be moving in pretty exotic circles. Good luck," I said, extending my hand.

"Always a pleasure," he replied, taking my hand and shaking it with his customary firmness. 

"You did what?" Doreen said, shocked. I had wandered into her office and slumped down in a chair. It wasn't long before I was reciting the gist of my meeting with Warren. 

"I don't know what made me ask, but ... when I heard Warren tell me about his disappointment with Trip and his regrets about how he had been raised, I wondered what I could do to help him. I guess that's where it came from."

Doreen just sat and stared at me. Her face betrayed no emotion. If anything, she appeared to be forming a question.

"Are you sure about this?" she finally asked.

"No ... not at all. In the last few months, I've grown to really admire and appreciate 'Senior.' I don't know how wealthy he is, but he doesn't act like the kind of person I might have expected. I guess you saw that when you worked for him."

Doreen nodded. "I hate to say it, but he was as good to work for as you are," she said sheepishly.

After a silence, Doreen asked, "Can I suggest we sit on this for a while? If Trip was really upset with his father, then he may not want anything to do with the new venture. You didn't exactly welcome him yesterday. Why don't we wait him out?"

I smiled and nodded. "You're pretty savvy ... for a girl."

"Oh ... I never thought you'd be a male chauvinist pig." It was a shot, knowing full well mine was too.

"See ... you still have a lot to learn about me. I'm still damaged goods."

"So ... just think of me as your handy-dandy repair lady."

"I think of you as a lot more than that."

She stood and walked out from behind her desk and sat carefully in my lap. 

"When are you going to move in with me?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

"I'm thinking about it ... really. You and I still have more to learn about each other, as you just said."

"I can't think of a better way to learn than by living together."

"Be patient, Val. I'm happier than I've been in a very long time. I'm almost afraid to take a risk right now. I'm just getting comfortable with you and me as it is."

"Okay. I know we've had this discussion before, but if there's anything you want to know about me, just ask. I promise, I won't hide anything. There aren't any skeletons in the closet."

"I believe that. It's me that has to get up the courage to open the closet. Just be patient, please."




Better Than New Ch. 04



"As long as I can still enjoy the benefits of our relationship, I'll do my best to be patient."

"Typical male," she snorted, slapping my shoulder. "All you ever think about is sex."

"Guilty as charged."

Monday, May 3rd, 10:15am

"Good morning, Valentine. Do you have a moment?"

"Yes, of course. What can I do for you?"

"I think my dilemma with my son has resolved itself. Last week, I proposed the father-son working relationship at the new venture and he promised to consider it. I was doubtful at the time that he would agree, but I had to at least offer it and give him the opportunity.

"He came to me this morning and announced that he had joined McMurtry-Fellows, a San Francisco investment firm. Apparently, he contacted a former fraternity chum and they discussed the opportunity over the past week. I was surprised since it would mean his starting at the bottom and working his way up. 

"He seems to have taken a hard look at himself ... for the first time, I suspect. When he thought about it, he knew he was ill-equipped to step into a responsible management position. He also knew he didn't have the love of the old automobiles that I did. He decided it was time, as he put it, to 'grow up.'"

"That's quite something ... for him, Warren. I have a feeling he may be making a very good decision for himself."

"Yes ... I think you're right. He's enthusiastic, even though it's going to be a challenge for him. He's even talking about some night school courses that would help him along. I never thought I'd see the day, to be frank."

"It must be a big relief for you. I hope somewhere in there was a reconciliation."

"Yes. He knew, I think, that he had been aimless and self-absorbed for most of his life. I think our rather heated discussion must have shaken him quite thoroughly. I suspect we're going to get along much better now. He won't be living at home, but he won't be that far away. I have a feeling it's the best thing that could have happened."

"I'm glad. You don't need that kind of stress. He's your only offspring. Maybe when he gets settled and finds a nice woman, he'll produce some grandchildren for you."

"We'll see. One thing at a time, for now. Oh, by the way, I understand he and your ex-wife are no longer seeing each other. I don't know any more than that."

"I don't need to know any more. She part of my past, and I like the look of my future much more."

"Good for you, Valentine. Good for you."

Saturday, May 15th, 1:50pm

"There's still time to back out, you know."

"No way. Carolyn would kill me."

"When they get to that part about anyone having any objections, I could yell out something like, 'Don't do it, Paul. Don't do it.'"

"You do, and I'll kill you."

I clapped him on the shoulder and reassured him. "Just kidding, man. You two were made for each other. I'm just jealous you beat me to it."

"Why," he said, looking surprised. "I didn't know you were in love with Carolyn."

The pause was followed by laugh and a punch on my arm as Paul congratulated himself on slipping one by me.

"Gotcha! Seriously, though, have you popped the question to Doreen yet?"

"Nope. We're not there yet. She's still battling some past demons that I can't get her to talk about. When that comes out, maybe then we can get on with it. In the meantime, I'm just enjoying every minute I get to spend with her."

"Well, you've got a hell of an advantage over me. You get to see her every day, all day. What's it like?"

"It's been great. She's all business in the office and on the shop floor. The guys like and respect her. She's learned so much in the past year, and what she doesn't know or understand, she asks. Most of the time she asks the guys out in the shop. I think that really impresses them."

"Well, in a way, I envy you. Then again, in a couple of minutes, I get my wish. There are two anniversaries that I want to celebrate. The first is the day we met those two women at Sunnydale, and the second is today."

"Yeah. I'm with you on that. I've got June 20th marked on my calendar. I have a plan for that day."

"Anything you'd care to share?"

"Not yet. It'll depend on one or two things happening first."

It was at that point the usher appeared and led us into the church from the waiting room beside the altar. Paul was visibly nervous, and I was a little myself. When I saw Doreen walking slowly up the aisle with the other bridesmaids, I could feel my heart catch in my throat. She was so beautiful in her champagne colored dress. I remembered chuckling to myself when she told me what the bride and bridesmaids would wear. It brought back memories of New Years Eve.

"You look gorgeous," I whispered to her as she stood near. I got a quick kiss on the cheek as a thank you.

There wasn't anything remarkable about the ceremony. It was mercifully brief in the overly-warm church. 

"I hope we're that happy when we get married," I said in a moment of thoughtless enthusiasm as we stood on the front steps.

Doreen turned to look at me in surprise, almost unable to speak.

"What? What did you say?"

There was no going back, I realized. "I said, I hope we're that happy when we get married."

"Is that supposed to be a proposal, Valentine David Keating?" 

Oh, Oh. I had stepped in it this time. Think fast, big mouth.

"My dear, Doreen. I would never dream of being so informal when I asked for your hand in marriage. It was just an off-handed remark. Maybe just a wish that I said aloud instead of to myself."

She looked at me steadily for what seemed a very long time. At last, with the slightest of smiles, "Chicken!"

"Never. Don't you think I should ask your father's permission first? Give me his phone number and I'll call him this afternoon."

"No ... no ... don't do that. I was just teasing you."

"Now who's chicken?"

"Let's not go there ... please."

I knew the fun was over. "Okay. But the subject isn't closed."

She'd been holding my arm as we challenged each other. I felt her grip stiffen momentarily, then relax. The tension was broken ... for now.

Saturday, May 15th, 10:40pm

"I wasn't kidding, you know."

"About what?"

"Wanting to marry you."

"I know."

"What's it going to take for you to say yes?"

No answer.

"Are you unhappy with the sex?" I pressed.

"No ... no ... it's wonderful."

"Then what's it going to take?"

Silence. I waited. She had to tell me sooner or later.

"The truth. I've got to tell you the truth ... sooner or later."

"I'm not afraid of that. I know you well enough to know that it won't hurt and it won't change my feelings for you."

"How do you know that? You don't know me ... at least ... my past. I could be married already, or have three children, or be a serial killer. You don't really know me."

"I suppose all that is possible ... but I don't believe it. I'm in love with who you are now. I'm having a hard time understanding what this big secret of yours is. I don't think we'd have the kind of relationship we have if any of those things were true."

"Damn you, Val. You aren't going to quit this pushing me to tell you, are you?"

"I don't want to, but I'm trying to think of some way that I can make it easier for you."

"How?"

"Uhhm ... is there any legal reason you can't marry me?"

She didn't hesitate with her answer. "No." 

"Do you have some kind of disease or physical problem that would prevent you from marrying me?"

"No."

"Is it a problem with your parents?"

This time there was a pause. "Partly."

"Explain."

"I can't. I mean ... I don't want to."

"Why?"

"It's very painful."

"If you told me, would the pain go away?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Aren't I worth the risk?"

That stopped her cold.

"Go on. Think about it. Am I worth the risk?"

I wasn't ready for the tears as she broke down, putting her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her naked back as we lay in my bed. I let the emotion take its course. I had my answer.

"I had an abortion," she finally whispered, still with her head on my chest. "I got pregnant and I had an abortion. I wasn't even finished high school. My mother was so angry ... she ... she ... disowned me. I had ruined the family reputation. She hasn't spoken to me since."

"Oh. Oh, Doreen, I'm so sorry. That must be a terrible hurt. But ... you told me you still see your father."

I felt her head nod as her sobs became intermittent.

"He was hurt, but he stood by me. I went to live with a girlfriend's family. They were very good to me. I stayed there for two years while I went to community college. Then, I knew it was time to go. I wanted to say goodbye to mother, but she wouldn't see me. Wouldn't even answer the phone. It hurt so much."

"So ... help me understand. Why wouldn't you want to marry me, now that I know?"

"That's not all. I ... I have ... a criminal record."

"When? How?"

"When I came out here, I didn't have very much money and I couldn't find a job right away. I got caught shoplifting some food at a grocery store. The manager decided to make an example of me. The judge sent me to jail for ninety days because I couldn't pay the fine."

"Oh, Doreen, that must have been horrible. I'm so sorry for you. What did you do when you got out?"

"That's the worst part. I sold myself to get some money to live on. There!" she cried, "now you know! Now you know how low I sank!"

"Easy, girl, easy. You were desperate ... and it was along time ago. It's all past now," I said quietly as I rocked her in my arms. We were quiet for a while until I thought we should finish this story.

"How did you get a job at Beeson, then?"

"I answered an ad. I lied on my application. They didn't check on me. After a couple of years, I was sure I was safe. Now, it's all come back. You know the worst about me. I wouldn't blame you for leaving me. I'm not who you thought I was."

She didn't know how relieved I was. As bad as it was, I could live with it. Desperation drives people to do things they would otherwise never do. She had made a mistake in her teens, and with one thing and another, she had paid a very high price for it. In time I would get the whole story, but for now, I was satisfied that I knew enough. Enough to feel we had swept away all the barriers between us.

"I don't care about your past, love. It was all a long time ago. You aren't that person any more. I fell in love with the real Doreen. The one who was given a chance ten years ago and grabbed it with both hands. Now ... it's time to take another chance. This time, it's a big one."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean you will have to take a chance on me. No guarantees, just my promise that I will love you until the day I die. I will never hurt you, or betray you, or fail you if it is in my power. I love you, and I want to marry you."

Her head came up, and she looked at me as if I was some stranger that she had never seen before.

"You mean that, don't you? You really ... really mean that."

"Yes. I mean every word."

The tears began again in earnest, as she desperately tried to smile and crawl up to me at the same time. She was so exhausted by the tension of her confession that she was almost limp, and I pulled her to me, kissing her with the love I truly felt. 

We fell asleep in each other's arms, not making love. She was far too drained for that. I slept soundly, now knowing all the important things about the woman I wanted to marry. She hadn't said yes ... yet, but I could wait.

Sunday, May 16th, 8:40am

"Ohhhhhhh ... god ... Val! That feels so good. Make it last forever, baby."

"I would ... if I could," I grunted. "Even Superman has his limitations."

"I like it nice and slow, just like this."

"I'm going to roll you on top, girl. I'll last longer that way."

Any regrets or worries from last night had been banished. She knew her past was behind her now, and there wasn't anything to fear. 

"So ... back to the question," I said as we lay in each other's arms. "Will you marry me?"

She rolled toward me, her arm over mine, and kissed me. "Yes. You know who I am now. All my dirty little secrets. If you're sure you still want me ... then ... yes."

"Thank you. You've made me a very happy man. I have to admit, I was wondering if I would ever find what I was looking for ... but you came along at just the right time. I love you, Doreen. I really do love you."

"I know ... I can feel it. I think that's what gave me the courage to tell you everything. I didn't think I could, but ... now ... it's all out in the open. No more secrets."

"No more secrets, except the ones just between us."

We lay together for a while before Doreen spoke.

"What do we do next?"

I didn't answer right away. I had something I wanted to propose, but I had to frame it just right.

"Well ... tradition says that I should ask for your father's permission."

"Really? Do you want to do that?"

"Yes. First, I'd like to talk to him. Let him know who I am and that you will be safe and loved in my care. Then ... I think it's important that I tell him I know about your past ... at least the part he knows about."

"He doesn't know about me being in jail ... or about me being a ... prostitute."

"And I won't be the one to tell him."

I heard a sigh of relief at that.

"I want to talk to your mother, too," I ventured. This was unknown territory, and I felt her stiffen again.

"Why? She doesn't want anything to do with me. She hates me. I ruined her life, she said."

"That was a long time ago. Things change. If she won't talk to you, maybe she'll talk to me. Anyway, I want at least to try."

She looked doubtful, but didn't shut me down. 

"Before that, I think we should visit my Mom and Dad today and tell them. That will be a lot easier. They think you're something special."

"They've made me feel really welcome."

"Of course, Mom will want to know when she can expect grandchildren."

"Oh ... Val ... we haven't even talked about that."

"Well, since it involves you more than me, tell me what you want. I was thinkin' six or eight, but it's up to you."

She smacked me hard on the shoulder.

"Wrong! How about two ... or maybe three, tops."

I grinned my approval. "I can live with that."

"We'll see. You only have one sister, don't you?"

"My older sister Sharon is married and living in Dallas. She used to make my life a living hell when she was a teenager. We get along great now."

"I'm an only child. I think that's part of why Mother was so upset with me. The other part was her high society friends. She said I ruined her reputation with them. Ever since Daddy became a 'somebody' in government, she was kissing up to a bunch of so-called important people in Washington. She wanted to become part of the 'in crowd.' I messed that up for her good and proper."

"Humph. Sounds like your mother's friends were more important to her than you. Doesn't sound like your father thought so, though."

"That's the way I felt about it too. It was a bad time for me. I was angry with myself, angry with the boy who got me pregnant and then took off with the help of his parents. I was angry with Mother when she shut me out. The only people who gave a damn about me were my father, my friend Tania, and her parents."

"Then we've got to make sure we let Tania and her parents know that everything has turned out for the better. You owe them at least that much."

"I owe them a lot more. If I hadn't been so anxious to get out of Alexandria and come to California, maybe none of those really bad things would have happened to me."

"Yeah ... but on the other hand ... you'd have never met me," I smirked.

"I paid a high price to get to you," she said, poking me in the chest with a finger.

"I'm going to prove I'm worth it."

"I think you already have." I got a nice, warm, wet kiss as proof. 

Sunday, May 16th, 4:10pm

"Welcome to our family, Doreen," my mother said with tears and squeezing my fiancée in a bear hug. "It's so good to see Val happy again. I know you'd never hurt him like ... oh ... never mind. That's the past. You are the future. I only have one question for you."

"How many children?" the two women sang in harmony. 

When the laughter died down, my father, still shaking his head offered the opinion that the whole thing sounded rehearsed.

"Let's wait and see what nature provides," Doreen said, wiping her tears away as well. We're hoping for at least two ... one of each if we're lucky."

"That would be wonderful. And you'll be here ... nearby ... I'll be able to visit them and spoil them just like grandmas are supposed to."

It wasn't any surprise that we were invited to stay for dinner. We talked about which date we might plan the wedding for, and who should be invited. I carefully brought up the subject of meeting her father and mother at some point. Mom knew about Doreen's estrangement from her mother. She didn't know about the abortion.

My father and I were talking by ourselves while Mom and Doreen cleaned up in the kitchen. 

"I think you've got a fine woman this time, Val. I like her. She's got a good head on her shoulders, and the look in her eyes says she's in love with you. You can't get much more than that. I'm really impressed by how much she has learned about your business. That's a real good sign in my book."

"Yeah. I agree. I hired her on a chance that she could do the job and it's paid off better than I could have hoped for. Then ... on top of all that, we fell in love. I sure didn't expect that after what I went through with Monica."

"It's funny, you know. Your mother has some kind of sixth sense about people. She never did warm to Monica. She said there was something about her that didn't sit right. And she mentioned this long before she left you for that jerk, Trip Beeson. But she really likes Doreen. She's top quality, according to your mother. I think she's going to make you forget about Monica."

"She already has, Dad," I smiled.

Monday, May 24th, 10:00am

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Gordon. I appreciate that you're a busy man."

"You said this was a matter regarding my daughter. Is she in trouble again?"

"Ah ... no, not at all," I stumbled, caught off guard. Again?

"Actually, I'm here to ask your permission for her hand in marriage."

I saw the look on his face change immediately from suspicion to outright surprise. "Marriage?"

"That's right. I love Doreen, and I have asked her to marry me, and she has said yes."

"And you want my permission?" he asked again, seemingly astounded by my request.

"Yes. I thought it was only reasonable that you knew who she was marrying and what I am about."

"Just what are you about?" he asked, still apparently unsettled.

"I am a small businessman. I own an autobody repair shop in San Rafael, California. I am also a partner in an automotive restoration business. I own my own home free and clear. I don't have a criminal record, and I'm free of any diseases, as far as my doctor knows." I was smiling slightly at this point.

"Your business. Is this the place Doreen is working now?"

"Yes. She is the administrative manager, and is invaluable to me. That's not why I fell in love with her, but it certainly didn't hurt."

He was shaking his head, still trying to get his thoughts together.

"How much do you know about her past?" he asked after a long pause.

"She has told me everything. I know about the abortion and the estrangement from her mother."

"Did she tell you about her criminal record?"

"Yes sir ... although ... she doesn't know that you know."

He slumped back in his overstuffed leather chair, closing his eyes momentarily. "Unfortunately, I know everything ... perhaps even things you don't yet know."

"Do you mean how she supported herself when she got out of jail?" I asked carefully.




Better Than New Ch. 04



His eyes went wide, telling me what I suspected. He had the access and wherewithal to have checked up on her. He obviously cared very deeply for her or he would have long since abandoned her.

"That must have been very painful for her," he said at last.

"Yes. It took a lot of courage to admit all those things to me. It took a lot of trust, too."

"She must love you very much, Mr. Keating."

"Yes ... I think she does. I know I love her very much. You should also know that I am coming off a failed marriage that ended just over a year and a half ago."

"Do you feel responsible for the failure of your marriage?"

"Somewhat. I failed to give my wife what she wanted. She desired status and image. I wasn't able ... or to be truthful ... willing to provide that. I am what I am; a bodyshop guy."

For the first time since I'd stepped into his plush government office, I saw just the hint of a smile on Franklin Gordon's lips. "I don't get the feeling you're ashamed of that."

"No. It's what I do, and according to those who know, I do it well."

He nodded, now smiling fully. "You don't really need my permission, do you?"

"I suppose not ... but I think both of us would be a lot happier if we had it."

Again, he nodded. "Consider it given. I would like to talk to my daughter, Mr. Keating."

"Of course ... and it's Val, sir. My proper name is Valentine David Keating."

"And I'm Franklin, but most people just call me Frank."

"I'd like to talk to Mrs. Gordon, if she'll permit it. If there's any way that I can help Doreen and her reconcile, I'd like to try."

He sighed, then a rueful smile. "If you'd have suggested that a few years ago, I would have said it would be hopeless. But lately ... I'm not so sure. I think your timing might be right, but only just. Would you like me to set it up?"

"That would be very helpful, Frank. Thank you."

"You should be aware that Mrs. Gordon does not know about Doreen's ... misadventures. I don't think it would be a good idea to bring them up."

"Understood."

Monday, May 24th, 2:05pm

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Gordon. I'm Valentine Keating."

"Come in Mr. Keating. My husband told me to expect you."

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"Frank said you had asked his permission to marry Doreen. That seemed very old fashioned to him ... but not to me."

"Doreen has been very honest about her past and her relationship with you."

"You mean lack of relationship, don't you?" I couldn't detect any warmth in this woman.

"I suppose so. That's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you."

"Go ahead."

"What happened to Doreen happened a long time ago. She has changed. So much so that I would be surprised if you recognized her. I don't know what you know about her presently, but she is the administrative manager of my business, and she is doing very, very well. She has accepted her mistakes and has lived a trouble-free life for over ten years. 

"I know that your feelings about her were very strong at the time, but I wonder if this isn't the time to forgive and forget. We intend to start a family. She is your only child, and we will produce your only grandchildren. I can't believe you wouldn't want to be a part of their lives."

During my entire dialogue, she hadn't moved a muscle, or even blinked. It was like talking to a stone statue. I was sure I hadn't reached her until I saw a single tear form at the corner of her eye, then trickle down her cheek. She didn't move for several seconds, then bowed her head. I saw her shoulders shake as she wept silently. I sat back and waited.

She reached for a tissue, and dabbed at her eyes. 

"I've been arguing with myself for a long time, Mr. Keating. I know I was upset, but for the wrong reasons. Doreen knew that too. I was more worried about my social standing than the health and comfort of my daughter. I'm ashamed of myself for that. I'm even more ashamed that I didn't have the courage to forgive her and tell her so. Now ... after all these years ... I wouldn't even know how to start."

"There's going to be a wedding soon. You'll be invited. It seems to me that just being there would say what needs to be said."

She looked carefully at me, nodding her agreement slowly. I thought I saw the beginning of more tears, but she managed to hold them back.

"I guess if I'm going to be your new son, you should call me Val. It's how everyone knows me."

"Very well, Val. And please, call me Sandra. Frank and I will be at your wedding. Maybe by then I can work up the nerve to apologize to my daughter."

"It might not be as hard as you think. Anyway, I'm sure Doreen will be very happy that you'll be there."

"I hope so."

Friday, June 11th, 9:00am

"Well, everyone's here, so why don't we get started," Warren Beeson smiled. "The first order of business is to congratulate Valentine and Doreen on their engagement. The ring is lovely, my dear."

"Thank you. We'll let you all know when we've set the date," she smiled demurely. "Now ... back to business. Here are the photographs of the three candidates," Doreen said, passing out copies around our meeting room table.

"The first is marked BK2-1, a pre-war Packard currently located in Lubbock, Texas. It's a mess, if the pictures are anything to go by. What did you think, Val?"

"It looks bad in the photos, but in fact, it's not as bad as that. Dad documented what he thought was missing from the engine and mechanicals, and it wasn't anything we couldn't find or replace. The body is a mess, naturally, after having been stored in a barn all those years. The convertible top is long gone, but the ribs and frame are still there. Did you have any luck tracking down the information from the builder's plate, Doreen?"

"Yes. It's a 1935 V-12 Model 1208. Not rare, but scarce. It might get a hundred thousand in concours condition."

"That makes it a borderline choice then," Warren said, waiting for agreement.

"Yes. Borderline. I think we need something a bit more exotic," I said.

"Okay, how about BK2-2 then," Doreen asked. "It's another pre-war American car, an Auburn Boattail Speedster, a model 851, 1935. It's located in Sparks, Nevada. This one is a much better proposition. A fully restored, authenticated one sold at Pebble Beach for $450,000 this year. So, if we can document it, it has a lot of potential."

"I agree, young lady," Warren enthused. "This is exactly what we have been looking for. Do you have any idea what it will cost to acquire it, Val?"

"Less than a hundred thou, for sure. I can see us pumping almost two hundred into it, so it will have to be done just right and shown at just the right place too." 

"Why don't we make an offer then?" Warren suggested to the group.

"You okay with this, Dad?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's a V-12 too, but nothing we can't handle. It'll be the brakes, suspension, and running gear that will provide the fun. I'm fine with this."

"Good. We have a project. Just for information sake, what was the third item?"

"A 1957 Thunderbird that supposedly belonged to some movie actor. It's in original condition, but not good condition. We found it in Indian Wells, sitting in a very shoddy looking used car lot," Doreen said. "Why someone didn't see it and snap it up, I don't know, unless, like me, they didn't believe that any movie star's car would end up in a dump like that."

"Have you got a trace on the ownership?" Warren asked.

"Under way. The greaseball that owns the lot wants five grand for it, but it's not driveable. I think we can deal on this one, even if it's not authentic. A good T-Bird sells for some nice dollars if it looks right ... especially a '57," I said. "We could handle this one in the regular shop and do a 'frame off' and still come out ahead."

"Why don't we buy it then?" Doreen suggested. "It sounds like we should be able to turn a profit no matter who owned it." 

The vote was unanimous. Item BK2-3 was our first purchase. 

"Who wants to be the buyer?" Carolyn asked.

"Dad, why don't you give it a try. You can be the back-yard mechanic who always wanted to have a T-Bird," I said.

"Sure. Should be some fun. How do you want me to do this, by phone?"

"Try that first, then if that doesn't go well, we can send Doreen down there and seduce him out of it," I laughed.

She turned a bright pink at the suggestion, but a warm hand from Warren took away the embarrassment. 

"So ... Beeson, Keating & Keating is officially in business," Warren grinned. "I can't wait to get started. We'll be showing at Keeneland in Kentucky in mid-July, then off to Pebble Beach in August, and Sacramento in Mid-September. We were too late to be officially entered in the Pebble Beach Concours, but we are entered in the Bugatti Rally. Naturally, the Mercedes will be around to be seen at Monterey as well. I've got the transporters all teed up, ready to go."

"Paul says our website will be ready in two weeks. He claims it will be 'Elegance Personified,'" Doreen laughed. "That and our showing at the concours events will give us a jump start on promotion."

"By the way," I said, "that MG TF is going out the door to its owner next week. It really looks great, and it's going to be a show car too, I understand."

"Well, we might not be able to claim it as a BK2 project, but the same hands did the work, so I'm not shy about promoting it with the owners permission," Warren crowed.

"That won't be a problem. He thinks he's got a concours winner himself," I laughed.

"Carolyn ... would you and Doreen get together with Warren to set up the payments as needed. We've got cash on hand for the T-Bird, but the Auburn will require some negotiating. Warren and I will be going to Sparks to deal directly with the owner, possibly as soon as this weekend. We won't want this one to slip through our fingers."

My father spoke up. "I understand the guy was trying to restore it himself and got in too deep. Is that true?"

"Yes," Doreen quickly replied. "His wife told me that she could see their life savings disappearing, so she's anxious to have him sell it quickly. It'll probably break his heart, but better that than break the bank."

"We won't get many chances like this, so let's take advantage of the opportunity," Warren said.

The first meeting of our new partnership was adjourned with each of us knowing what was expected next. It was exciting to see it all come together as quickly as it did, but I kept reminding myself that I had 'Better Than New' to run as well, and I couldn't take my eye off the ball.

"Nervous?" Doreen asked as she wrapped her arms around me.

"A little. I don't want to have this all get out of control. I'm used to having everything under my thumb, but this is going in several directions at once."

"That's why I'm here. You're using the same workforce for both businesses. It's just that your banker for BK2 is Warren. We're providing organization and expertise. Your father is committed a hundred percent to this venture, just like Warren. Carolyn will guard the finances and monitor the expenses. We'll know soon enough if things get out of hand."

I kissed her and squeezed her to me. "Serendipity."

"What?"

"Serendipity. Fate. The thing that brought us together at the golf course one day a year ago. None of this would have happened without that. Paul and I have agreed that we will hold June 20th as a special anniversary that we will joyfully celebrate every year."

"I was calling it luck, but I suppose there are a hundred names for it. Whatever, I'm very, very happy," she sighed.

"If you're so happy, how come I can't pin you down on a date for our wedding?"

"Don't be in such a rush. I've just moved in with you. Who knows what things I'm going to discover about you." 

"Don't change the subject ... it's time we decided on at least an approximate date."

She stopped, looked at me for a few moments, her face scrunched up ... perhaps in thought?"

"Okay ... September, after Warren gets back from Sacramento."

"There ... that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"We have a lot to do between now and then," she warned.

"I'll help with the guest list. As far as the arrangements and other stuff ... you did a great job with Carolyn's wedding. Why don't you just 'ditto' that?"

The look of disgust on Doreen's face was unmistakeable. "You don't just 'ditto' someone else's wedding. It's a very personal thing ... especially to a woman. I've never been married before, and I'm planning on this one to be the only one. It's a big deal, Val. Don't you go bailing out on me."

"Okay, okay ... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't care. I care a lot. But you and Carolyn have experience, so it makes sense for you two to organize things. I'm here to help when you need me."

It was quiet for a while before Doreen spoke again. "It's our first argument, isn't it?"

"Yeah ... I guess it is. So ... should we have some make-up sex to end it?"

"Here?"

"I'm game if you are," I grinned, cocking an eyebrow.

"God, no. Somebody ... anybody could come walking in. But ... I do like the idea," she smirked.

"Care for a long lunch at the house?"

"Let's go."

Sunday, June 20th, 2:10pm

"Well, here's to our special anniversary," I said, raising my mug.

The responses were a mixture of "Skoal" and "Cheers."

It's only been one month and already you two are an old married couple," I kidded.

"And loving it!" Paul responded quickly.

"I never thought I'd hear that from San Rafael's most eligible bachelor," I said, shaking my head.

"Neither did I," Paul replied promptly again. "But it just goes to show you what happens when you find just the right woman at just the right time." He leaned over and kissed Carolyn, who was beaming with pride. 

I put my arm around Doreen's shoulders, and squeezed her gently. "You'll notice nothing's changed however. Doreen still beat us all," I moaned.

"I'm playing more often, so I'm getting better." 

"I wish I could say the same thing. Carolyn's game was much better today," I suggested.

"That's because I wasn't distracted by Paul hitting on me the whole way around like he did last year."

"You aren't really complaining, are you?" Doreen asked in wonder.

"No ... I suppose not. I've got my own personal nerd to look after me, and he's very good at that. Very good!"

Nothing subtle about that, I thought. I was happy for them both. It really was amazing that the four of us had connected so quickly and now, it would appear, permanently. 

"Well, we've finally decided on September 25th for the wedding," I announced. "Doreen's booked the church and the hall next door. All the invitations are going out next week. Looks like about sixty to seventy people all told."

"That's great. So now it's a case of which of us gets to start a family first," Paul suggested.

"No fair," Doreen laughed. "You guys got a head start."

"Don't you worry, love," I said. "I'm told on good authority that the men in my family have very potent seed. But, just to be sure ... we'll have to practice, practice, practice."

When the laughter died down, all four of us went quiet for a time. I think we were all just thankful for the past year and the gifts we had been given. For me, what seemed like the bottom, went all the way to the top. Not bad. 

To Be Concluded...

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.



Better Than New Ch. 05



Act 5 Tuesday, July 20th, 8:45am

"Good morning, Warren. You're back safe and sound. How was the Keeneland Concours?"

"Excellent, Valentine, excellent. We won a couple of special awards, but more importantly, we learned just what it's going to take to win the larger prizes. We certainly turned heads with our two vehicles, though."

"So ... it was worthwhile ... in your opinion?"

"Very much so. I spent as much time reviewing the other entrants as I did answering questions about our entries. You should know that you and Mr. Coultard were absolutely correct when you said that original and unrestored was a unique category. We attracted an enormous amount of attention for both cars. It was very exciting ... very invigorating."

I could hear the enthusiasm and happiness in his voice.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it so much. Dad got home last night and according to Mom, he couldn't stop talking about how anxious he was to get back to work on the Auburn. That show gave him a real shot in the arm, as if he needed one."

"I'm surprised your father doesn't have a bad back. He spent so much time bent over looking in the engine compartments of the show cars that I hardly saw him upright. I think the two of us are reliving some youthful dream and we don't want it to end. I can't wait for Pebble Beach next month. That will really be exciting."

"Yes ... it will. Doreen and I are planning on joining you for at least one day. I also want to stop in at Laguna Seca and watch some of the historic races."

"I may join you if time permits. But right now, your father and I have some work to do when the cars get back here to improve them for the Fairfield showing in Sacramento. We've decided not to take the Mercedes to Pebble Beach, just the Bugatti. We should have both cars in top show condition for the Sacramento show then."

"That sounds sensible. Do I need to do anything to help?"

"No ... we've got everything in hand. I'll have Ms. Gordon make the changes with the transporter and insurance."

"Fine. Well, welcome home. We'll see you later this week."

"Yes ... indeed. I'll have quite a few pictures to show you and Ms. Gordon. Perhaps we should find a place to put them up at the shop so that both the employees and our customers can see them."

"Good idea. I've about run out of room on my office wall. I think a big board out in the restoration shop would give us a place. I'll get going on that right away."

When we had signed off, I leaned back in my chair and had a nice sigh of satisfaction. Our first show had been a success, and Warren and Dad were immersed deeply in our project. No interference, just support. I was really enjoying this new phase of my business.

I'd barely had time to sip my coffee when the phone rang again.

"Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Is this Mr. Keating, the son of David Keating?"

"Yes ... that's right. Can I help you?"

"I hope so. My name is Philip Melanathon. I met your father at Keeneland. He tells me you are beginning the restoration of an Auburn Boattail. I was wondering if you might be interested in another Auburn?"

"Possibly. What is it and where is it?"

"It's a 1933 Saloon Eight Sedan. It's not anywhere as exotic as the Boattail, but this car has sentimental value to me ... to my family."

"Where is it located?"

"It's stored on our farm in Valdosta, Georgia. It hasn't been driven in fifty years, I suppose. Needless to say, it would be a major project."

"Yes, it would, Mr. Melanathon. It would be an expensive major project to be more accurate. The best I can offer at this point is to have one of our people evaluate it and give you a ballpark estimate. It will depend on just how detailed and accurate you want this restoration to be."

"I understand. When I talked to your father, he suggested that since it wasn't destined to be a show car, there were some ways to keep the cost from becoming excessive. We ... my family ... want the car to be driveable. Something we can take out for a family outing. It's something special I want to do for my mother and father."

"I see. Can you send me some pictures of the car? It will give us some idea of what needs to be done. Then I can consult with my partners. To be honest, sir, it's unlikely that the cost would be less than one hundred thousand dollars."

"Yes. I expected that. My main concern is that the job be done right and that it would be safe to drive. It must seem like a silly luxury to you, but we can afford it and it's something I want to do while there's still time."

"Very well. Send me the pictures. If we think we can do a good job, I'll probably ask my father to fly down to see it in person. That's the only way we can make a good evaluation. At that point, the meter would be running," I chuckled.

"I understand. Thank you for considering it. I've had a difficult time trying to find qualified people for this project. Taking it all the way across the country seems excessive, but I've seen the work you've done on other cars on your website, so I'm hoping that this might be my chance."

"I'll look forward to seeing the pictures. If you can, send them to me, Valentine Keating, at the email address on our website. That will save both of us some time."

"Thank you, Mr. Keating. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

That was surprise. From Georgia to California for a restoration by a company that hadn't finished its first project? I had better talk to my father. 

I walked into his new office after tapping on the door frame.

"Dad, do you remember talking to a man from Georgia about restoring a '33 Auburn sedan?"

"Yeah ... he had a funny last name. Mel-something. Wasn't looking for a concours car. It was an old family car that his parents owned. He wanted to fix it up for their 75th wedding anniversary. Can you imagine? Married for seventy-five years? Guess they were married young ... teenagers I think he said. They're both in pretty good health, considering. I think he said their anniversary was next April."

"He's sending me some pictures and if you think it's worthwhile, I'd ask you to go have a look at it before we commit to it. This is going to be a cost-plus job."

"Yeah. I figured that. But I think he's good for it. I understand he some big-deal farmer around Valdosta. There were sure lots of folks coming up and saying hello to him."

"Okay, then. I'll wait for the pictures," I smiled. Dad was right into this business now. It was like he was given a new lease on life and he was loving it.

"How's the Auburn look?"

"It looks like lots of work, but ... so far ... so good. This internet thing is great for finding stuff. I got ahold of the Auburn Club and they've been givin' me all kinds of leads. Not like the old days, that's for sure. I've got your mother looking after the mail."

"Good for you. This is becoming a total family business again."

"Say ... I had an idea that you might or might not like. I was thinkin' maybe that the regular autobody work could be done in a separate building while the restorations could be combined in one building. That way, only the paint shop is shared. What do you think? It's not too late to make the change. Just a matter of moving the machinery into where the autobody used to be."

"Let me think about it. We seem to flying by the seat of our pants lately. We're making changes on the go, and that can lead to problems. Why don't the four of us sit down and discuss it. In fact, I think it might be smart to have Carolyn in on this meeting."

"Sure. I guess I can get carried away ... huh?" he smiled.

"It's okay, Dad. I know you're thinking about the business, so no idea is a bad idea. We just need to make sure we do what's necessary to make it all work."

"Gotcha," he nodded, returning to his computer screen.

I never thought I'd see the day when my father embraced the electronic age, but he was now thoroughly hooked on the internet. Considering his opinion of the new cars and their systems, it was nothing short of amazing.

Monday, July 26th, 11:30am

"Is Monica Engblom in?"

"Just a moment, sir. I'll see if she's available."

I didn't recognize the young woman who had greeted me at the front of the furniture store. No surprise, since Warren had sold the store to a national chain and much of the staff had been let go. Monica was apparently an exception.

"She'll be right with you, sir," the girl said with a smile. True to her word, I saw Monica walking toward the front almost right away.

"Val? To what do I owe the honor?" she said, also showing a smile. 

"I've brought you the check for your share of the business. There are a couple of papers to sign as well. If it isn't convenient now, we can do it later."

"It's almost lunch hour. Why don't we meet at 'Digger's' and have a quiet lunch while we get this business out of the way?"

I hesitated. I didn't really want to spend any time with Monica, but her tone was a good deal more conciliatory than at our last meeting. I gave in.

"All right. Noon hour at Digger's, okay?"

"I'll meet you there."

There was no point in my going back to the shop, so I headed for Digger Dave's Saloon. I found my nerves were a bit jangled, so I ordered a beer while I waited in a booth for my ex-wife to show up. Amazing how she could still cause me this kind of discomfort a year-and-a-half later.

"I see you got an early start," Monica said as she slid into the booth. I didn't detect any snide attitude as she might have shown in the past. This appeared to be a different Monica.

"You know me, Monica. I'm not much of a drinker."

"No ... you've always been very good that way. I never did have to worry about you."

I surprised myself with my next question. "How have you been? You're still at the store in spite of new owners. Isn't that a good sign?"

"Yes, I guess it is. I've always been one of their top producers, so I'm sure that has something to do with them keeping me."

"Maybe now you'll get some recognition in the pay check. Trip was always finding ways to cut back on commissions." I realized immediately that it was a cheap shot, but it came out just the same.

"Yes. I'm going to do quite a bit better with the new owners. I guess you know Trip and I are no longer together?"

I nodded.

"That makes me a two time loser. First, I throw you away, then he throws me away. What goes around, comes around, as the saying goes." 

I didn't have any idea of how to respond to that comment.

"Don't worry, Val. I'm not trying to get you back. I'm more realistic than that. I know I burned that bridge. I'm just sorry I figured it out too late. There's a rumor going around that you've got a new lady. Any truth to that?"

"Yeah. Doreen Gordon and I are engaged. She used to be the office manager at your store."

"Yes ... I know who you mean, although I'm surprised. Hell, I'm amazed. She was the original Ice Queen. I think most of us were taking it for granted that she was a lesbian. I guess we were wrong, huh?"

"Dead wrong!" I grinned.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You are a good guy. Too bad I figured that out a bit too late. Lucky her," she said, raising her glass.

I lifted my glass in response. I found I was more relaxed now since Monica had decided to be more civil.

We ate lunch quietly, with little talk, and afterwards got on with the paperwork.

"The agreement reads that this is the end of the claim on 'Better Than New' and that you are paid in full. If you want, you can have your lawyer look it over. It needs your signature on all three copies. The certified check is attached, as is a copy of the assessment the check amount is based on. I hope that will do it," I said.

"Yes. That's what we agreed on. I trust you, so I'm not going to worry about having a lawyer go over it. I'm sorry it came to this, Val. If I had it to do all over again ... well ... I don't, do I?"

"Where are you living now?"

"I have a condo over on Camino Santa Marta. It's perfect for my needs. I'm still driving the Escalade. No boyfriends, but I'm not pushing it. After Trip, I'm not in any rush."

"You know he's moved to San Francisco? Got a job with a brokerage firm, I'm told."

"Could be. I don't have any contact with him. He was a big mistake. A fully grown adult with a teenage mind. I got sucked in by the so-called glamour, but there wasn't anything else. Shows you how stupid I can be."

"I got the feeling you've learned something from this."

"Yeah ... you bet! I've learned to hold onto what I've got, because the grass isn't always greener on the other side of the fence. In fact, there may not even be any grass at all." 

"You'll recover. You're a good-looking woman. You'll find someone."

"I suppose so. But it's getting a little late to start a family, and I'm going to have to get lucky to find the right guy. I had one of those and gave him away. That's a mistake I can't afford to make again."

She was sounding more than a little sorry for herself. I had twinges of regret and sympathy for her, but that's all they were ... twinges.

We parted with one of those pretend hugs and headed back to our work. I was both relieved and a bit sad. It was as if today was the last day of our marriage, not a year ago. We no longer had anything connecting us. Luckily for me, I had quite a lot to look forward to.

Friday, August 13th, 10:00pm

"I'm glad you're not superstitious, driving your lovely Jaguar all the way down here on the freeways and this scary little road to Big Sur."

"Nope ... not a superstitious bone in my body. On the other hand, I do have a super bone for your body."

"Ohhh ... I'm impressed. The sea air making you frisky, is it?"

"I think it's more like the gorgeous woman I'm in bed with. I swear, you get more beautiful every day."

"Uhhhmmm ... must be all the exercise and loving I'm getting."

"I hope so. I plan to keep it up."

"Well, it's certainly up right now."

We were staying in a lovely cliff-side B & B with an ocean view out our bedroom window. It was a clear, moonlit night with little if any wind. We could hear a light surf lapping at the beach below, with an occasional seagull's cry. It was perfect. 

Doreen lazily draped her leg over my torso before pushing herself up and stretching her lovely frame over mine. I had my hands on her butt cheeks, and my lover was reaching for my hardened erection to guide it into her. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and I couldn't think of a more perfect way to end a day.

Saturday, August 14th, 6:30am

We fell asleep with her still lying on top of me, but awoke with me spooned into her back and my typical morning woodie tucked between the cheeks of her lovely backside. A glance at the clock radio told me it was only six-thirty, but the sun was rising and the sky free of cloud. Better still, there was no fog.

I had my nose tucked into my fiancée's neck, lightly stroking it to see if she was awake.

"Hmmmm ... keep doing that," I heard her croak softly.

I did, but moved my hand gently to clasp a breast and trail my fingertips across a now-erect nipple. I could feel her beginning to squirm, making my erection even firmer.

"I have to go," she said, struggling to escape.

I released her reluctantly. I was becoming used to waking with her every morning and often making love before we rose. When she returned, I repeated her path to the bathroom before returning to the big, brass bed and the comfort of the thick quilt that insulated us from the cool, morning air.

"I wonder how your mother and father are doing?" Doreen asked groggily.

"They should be living in the lap of luxury. They're sharing a suite with Warren in Monterey. Separate bedrooms and bathrooms. I'll bet they're not up yet," I said, snuggling up to her even tighter.

"Isn't it amazing," Doreen yawned, then stretched. "He and your dad are like best buddies."

"Hmmmm. Just like us."

"I don't think so," she giggled.

"Well ... sort of like us."

"Nope ... not a chance."

"So ... how would you describe it?"

"Pals. If you watch them, it's like they have known each other for years, rather than a few months. They have absolutely nothing in common except their love of cars. They come from completely different backgrounds. I think it's amazing."

"I think it's great," I said, stroking her breast once again. "I couldn't be happier for both of them ... you know ... finding something they both love to do."

"Do you know what your mother told me?"

"What?"

"Ever since your dad and Warren started working together, she's been getting a very big side benefit. She says it's like being on a second honeymoon." "You're kidding!"

"Nope. Apparently, your dad is so full of energy and is so happy with this new business that she's getting a lot of that energy too ... if you know what I mean."

I chuckled, and squeezed her tightly to me. "I'm glad. It's good for Dad, it's good for Mom, it's good for Warren, and it's good for us. Perfect!"

"Hmmmm ... perfect. Now, since it's still too early for breakfast, what shall we do?"

"Anything you want, any way you want it," I promised. She couldn't see the look of happiness on my face as she wiggled her butt against my still firm erection. 

Sunday, August 15th, 5:30pm

"Well ... here's to a wonderful weekend. My very first at Pebble Beach ... and ... I hope ... far from my last." Warren said, holding his wine glass high.

The return salute from the four of us was unanimous. Warren and Dad had concluded their first 'rallye' in the Bugatti and sharing the driving duties, both of them were full of news about the afternoon. The car had attracted a great deal of attention, and the two of them spent a good deal of their time before and after the tour answering questions. 

Doreen and my mother spent the day sightseeing and shopping in Monterey, while I snuck out and up the hill to Laguna Seca to take in a few of the vintage sports car races. I was a thrill not just to see them, but to hear the wonderful old exhaust notes and the squeal of tires as the drivers took chances with their priceless cars in serious racing.

"When are you heading home?" Mom asked.

"Tonight. We have a couple of things that need doing first thing in the morning, so if we leave before seven, we should be home before eleven, traffic permitting."

"We're staying over for another night," Warren explained. "I'm too old to be touring around at night, and frankly, today wore me out with all the excitement. We should be back by early afternoon."

"Did you have a good time, Mom?"

"I had a great time. Doreen and I got to spend some time together and trade secrets about you," she giggled.

"I was afraid of that. Oh well, I guess I should have expected it. As long as you had fun."

"I don't remember when I've had a better weekend," Dad said. "In fact, I don't know when I've had a better year. I wish I could have been doing this twenty years ago. I don't know how to thank you Warren, and you too, Val. This has been terrific for me."

"And me," Mom said, smiling broadly.

I nodded. "I have to say, the last year or so has been pretty special for the whole family. I just hope it keeps going this way."

"I don't see why not," Warren offered. "I'm betting we'll get a couple more opportunities out of this showing, then the Sacramento show will probably add another one or two. I'd say our little venture is off and running."

"If you're right, we're going to have to be quite selective about which projects to take on. I don't want us disappointing customers by not being able to produce in a timely fashion. Dad's idea about rearranging the shop to expand restorations under one roof looks like a good one, so maybe that will help. But in the end, it's the people that will make it work. We need to keep recruiting good people and making sure they want to stay. That's going to be my challenge."




Better Than New Ch. 05



"Time enough to worry about that tomorrow, dear," Doreen said. "Let's order a light meal and get ready to go. It's a long drive for you."

My father said, "You folks go ahead and we'll see you tomorrow. I think I'll have a nap before we have supper. That all right with you, Warren?"

"Excellent idea, Dave. Why don't we meet for dinner at eight? I'll make the reservation."

We parted with the usual handshakes, hugs and kisses.

"You think they're really going to have a nap?" Doreen asked as they left the table.

I shrugged and smiled at her. "I think Dad and Warren are a bit worn out from today, so I wouldn't be surprised. But ... then again ...." 

Saturday, August 28th, 2:00pm

Frank Gordon and I were sitting in the bar at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel in downtown San Francisco, killing time over a glass of cabernet.

"Thanks for making the effort to be here, Val. I thought it was the best opportunity for Doreen and her mother to get together by themselves before the wedding."

"I agree, Frank. I wish it could have been a long time ago, but better now than not at all. I'm really grateful that you stayed in touch with her, though. I think that meant a lot to her. At least she had her father to connect with."

"Sandra and I planned this Alaska cruise some months ago, and I switched the airline tickets to San Francisco from Vancouver after you met with us earlier this spring. I don't know what's going on in that hotel room right now, but it's been over an hour so I guess that's good."

"I think so, too. There's over ten years of heartache to get over, and that won't happen in a few moments. If they can just get the healing started, I'd be happy."

Frank nodded his agreement as he sipped his wine.

As I looked over his shoulder, I saw Doreen and her mother walking towards our table. I was trying to read their faces, but having no luck at all. I nudged Frank to let him know they were coming, then stood.

"Thank you for being so patient with us," Sandra said with a slight smile. "We had a lot of ground to cover, but ... I think things are going to be much better in the future." This time the smile was broader and mirrored by Doreen. I could see puffy eyes on both of them and suspected there had been quite a few tears shed in the past hour.

"I've apologized to Doreen for being so selfish and stubborn."

"And I've apologized for causing Mom the hurt that I did," Doreen added.

"The rest of the time we spent talking about you, Valentine," Sandra grinned. "You get quite a high rating from my daughter, Frank, and me. She made me realize just how special you are and how much she loves you. I think she's a very lucky young woman."

"And I think I'm a very lucky guy," I replied. 

"We're going to really enjoy our cruise, aren't we dear," she said, turning to Frank. "All the worry and upset are past now. We'll be truly looking forward to your wedding ... and ... future grandchildren." 

"Spoken like a true future grandmother," I laughed.

The tension was gone, and although Doreen had said little, the expression on her face was one of both relief and happiness. When Frank had called me to suggest we bring the two together I thought it was a great idea, and I turned out to be right. Being welcomed into the Gordon family was important to me. 

"I'm looking forward to you coming out a few days early so that we can show you around and you can meet my parents. The weather is usually pretty nice in September, so you should have a pleasant stay."

"I'll let you know what our travel plans are, Val. Sandra and I will probably rent a car for our stay. I've never been to Monterey and Carmel and I know we both want to see it."

"Great ... it's settled then."

After a few more hugs, kisses, and handshakes, Doreen and I made our way out of the bar and down to the parking area. She had a vise grip on my hand and I wondered just how wound up she was. I found out when the elevator doors to the parking levels closed. She almost jumped on me, kissing me and holding me tightly to her.

"Thank you, Val. Thank you so much. I feel so much love for you right now, I don't know how to tell you or show you. I'm only just starting to breathe now."

"Was it that difficult?"

"Yes. I was frightened of what might happen. I wanted it to be over ... I mean ... the anger and the disappointment. I wanted us to be mother and daughter once more. Neither of us knew what to say or how to say it. Finally, I just broke down and told her I was sorry. I had never meant to hurt her. That seemed to be the right thing at the right time. Mom broke down too. She was sorry that she was so hard and so unforgiving. She knew that it was for all the wrong reasons.

"Anyway, we're going to be okay now. I think we both know we screwed up and lost more than a decade of our lives. We have some catching up to do, but I think we'll be okay. She had a lot of nice things to say about you, you know."

"That's a surprise. I only talked to her for a few minutes when I was there."

"It wasn't how long, it was what you said. You broke the log-jam in her head. After I told her what kind of guy you are, she realized how important family is to you and why you took the trouble to fly all the way across the country just to talk to her. I think when she put all the pieces together, she understood."

"I'm glad. You're right ... family is important to me. I'm just happy that we're on the way to putting yours back together again."

"It was definitely worth giving up our golf game," she grinned, poking me in the arm. It was good to see her smiling. Another step along the way, I thought.

Friday, September 10th, 5:15pm

"Two weeks tomorrow and you join the not-so-exclusive club of married couples," Paul said, raising his beer mug. Carolyn, Doreen, and I all followed.

"Can't wait," I said, turning to Doreen and kissing her cheek. "It's not like we aren't keeping house already, but when it's official, I'll feel like it's real."

"Have you decided on your honeymoon yet? Time is getting short, you know," Carolyn chirped.

"We're going to delay it for a couple of months. Val booked us a nice beachfront place on Maui for early December. Two weeks, and home for Christmas. Mom and Dad are coming out for the holidays. Who knows, maybe I'll be pregnant by then," she giggled. 

"Well ... you guys are too late in the baby-making sweepstakes," Carolyn said happily. "I'm expecting in late May."

"Oh ... that's wonderful!" Doreen exploded. "Congratulations!"

"That's great," I agreed. "I should have guessed when you ordered a diet cola instead of your usual."

Doreen had gotten up and gone to hug Carolyn as I shook Paul's hand. We were genuinely happy for them, if not a little envious. Both Doreen and I wanted to start on a family right away. She had gone off the pill when her parents left on their cruise, knowing then that everything was going to be all right with them. It took away the stress, and we both agreed that the timing was right.

Saturday, September 25th, 2:00pm

"You nervous?" Paul asked.

"A bit. I don't want to fluff my lines ... that's all."

"Yeah ... I know what you mean. Anyway, I don't have to ask you if you're serious about this. When you make your mind up, that's it."

"It's the easiest decision I ever made. This one is for keeps, Paul. I've made my one mistake. This one is forever."

"I get that feeling from both of you. Just like Carolyn and me. You can sense that it is just exactly the way it was meant to be."

I heard the organist start the wedding march and we turned to look as Frank guided my bride slowly up the aisle to my side. She had chosen a white dress with the agreement and support of both me and her mother. She looked absolutely gorgeous. 

I heard a sniff from nearby and saw Sandra holding a handkerchief to her nose while tears streamed down her cheeks. I knew this was a happy moment for her, so I wasn't in the least concerned. I turned and looked at my mother, and she and Dad were a little misty-eyed too. They'd been through this before, but I think they realized the difference between my first attempt and this one.

"It was a lovely ceremony, Val," Mother said afterwards, still a little weepy. "She's such a beautiful bride. I think she's just what you need."

My father was nodding his agreement, along with Warren. I had been shaking hands and pecking cheeks for the past half hour as we arrived at the reception hall. I was surprised at the number of people that had attended both the ceremony and had come to the reception. When I looked at the faces, I knew them all, and they all belonged. It was a great day.

"Don't Mom and Dad look great, Val?"

"Which ones?" I kidded.

"Yeah ... I get it. Both of them do, don't they."

"I just got myself a new family. I really like your parents, and they seem to be getting along great with my folks. So, what more could we ask for?"

"I can't think of anything. I'm so happy. You don't know how good it feels to have Mom back in my life. You made that happen, husband, and I'll never forget that. I am so damn lucky."

"Funny ... I feel the same way. We both came from different directions, but the main thing is we found each other. All it took was one game of golf."

END

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.