Chapter 30
Elena stretched herself awake and smiled. Waking up without an alarm clock screaming in her ear was her favorite part of Sunday morning. She glanced over at the clock. 9:38, a decadently late hour for one used to rising early. Elena sat up and rubbed her eyes. The room seemed brighter than usual and she slid out of bed and looked out of her bedroom window. She winced at the blinding wash of sun bouncing off of the white blanket coating everything.
"I wonder how much snow we got?" Elena's belly rumbled, reminding her she had ignored dinner the night before. "Yeah, yeah," she told it. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a thick pair of socks. Her eyes rested on the leather notebook and she remembered her dream from the night before. "No headache this morning either," she said thoughtfully. Elena picked up the notebook and took it into the kitchen. She set it on the kitchen table while she measured coffee and filled the carafe with water. She sliced a bagel in half and popped it into the toaster.
'Maybe it was a real dream and not a part of the Calling,' she thought. It was possible. Not everything had to have deeper meaning. 'That would explain the lack of headache.' Her bagel popped up and she spread a thick layer of cream cheese over it. She placed it on a plate, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. As she ate she dissected the dream. It had all of the earmarks that linked it to the earlier dreams.
"Perhaps paying attention actually helps," she said aloud. "Who knew?" Elena finished her bagel and set the plate aside. She pulled the notebook to her and began recording the dream. "After all it can't hurt," she muttered. When the recording was complete, Elena closed the notebook and refilled her coffee mug. A rumble outside startled her and she walked towards the window. A snowplow was making its way down the center of the street, pushing heaps of fluffy whiteness to the sides. Elena felt a moment of pity for those who were parked on the street.
"They are going to have fun digging themselves out," she said. She was pleased that her seldom-used car was safely parked in the garage at the rear of the building. "Hopefully someone will dig that door open by tomorrow night." She thought of her meeting with the military and then deliberately shifted it out of her mind. Today was her one-day off. She may have to go through a business call with Peter and review Andre's resume and portfolio, but she was not going to think about Smith.
Elena walked over towards the television set and picked up the remote control she hat left on top of it. She clicked the set on and turned it to the weather channel. Information spread across the country. Florida got rain. New Mexico was sunny. North Dakota was colder than she cared to contemplate. Finally, her weather popped up. They had gotten eight inches of snow in the night and it looked like more might be heading their way.
"Pretty impressive for the first snow of the year," she said. She glanced out of the window and looked up at the sky. The bright sun she had seen upon waking disappeared behind a wall of gray. Oddly enough the sky looked like the color of slush while the snow still looked like white puffy clouds. "That won't last." She turned from the window, thinking the weather channel was probably right. Given that sky there was a good possibility of more snow on the way.
"I'll need my snow gear in the morning," she said, walking to the kitchen to refill her coffee mug. She mentally rifled through her closets, trying to remember where she stashed her boots, hat, gloves and scarf. She thought they were in the front hall closet.
"I'll check later so I'm not scrambling in the morning." She took her fresh cup of coffee into the living room and curled up on the couch. She clicked through the television channels and came across the movie Bringing up Baby. It had just started. Elena set the remote control down and settled into watch.
"Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn," She said. "Perfect for a lazy Sunday morning." Elena snuggled into the sofa and let the hilarity ensue.
When the movie was over, Elena stretched, turned off the television and picked up her empty coffee mug. "Time to actually get some stuff done," she said. She refilled her coffee mug in the kitchen then went to the small desk where her computer sat. She settled herself in the chair and turned the computer on. It hummed to life and Elena pulled up her e-mail. As she had expected a large file from Andre was the first item in her in-box. She opened it.
The first document was his resume. She opened it. His work record looked promising. She had actually heard of both the company he had interned with and the company for whom he now worked. Mentally she added years and realized he was actually about 3 years older than she was.
"I wonder why he'd be willing to shift?" she asked herself. After all he would have to leave his current job. She didn't think the firm he was with would allow him to freelance to that degree. She added the question to her list for Monday's interview and hoped that Peter had not brought pressure to bear on Andre. The last thing she needed was a resentful designer. Absently she wondered if she could ask Peter without having him get too offended. She shrugged it off as impossible to guess and began to click open the graphics files of Andre's portfolio.
She was even more impressed by the work than the company. Andre seemed to be able to tailor his talents to other people's visions to create a wide range of styles, a very useful trait for the current project. Andre's notes with each piece let her know how it was created and why. She appreciated the notes. Some of the pieces were spec pieces, done when the client hadn't the foggiest clue of what they really wanted.
"Also handy," she muttered to herself. Elena pulled her leg up into the chair and rested her chin on her knee. This was really good work. She could see why Peter would recommend his cousin even beyond the family connection. Elena took a sip of her coffee as the phone rang. She swallowed as she reached for the phone.
"Hello?"
"Good afternoon, Elena," Peter said. "Thank you for agreeing to a Sunday afternoon call." Elena laughed.
"I guess it is afternoon isn't it," She looked down at herself and realized she was still in the t-shirt and yoga pants she had gone to bed in the night before. She shrugged. 'It isn't like we have video phones,' she thought. "Besides, I don't know when else we would have the time."
"True," he answered. "Did you have time to go over my list of potential products from the Baranov sources?"
"I did," she answered, reaching for the notebook she had brought home with her. The information Peter sent was tucked away in the back. She slid it out. "I must confess some of them I am not terribly familiar with."
"I was afraid of that when I saw your list contained many items unfamiliar to me as well."
"I think I have a solution though."
"Wonderful."
"You really shouldn't call it wonderful until you hear it," she cautioned.
"At least you have an idea which is better than I have at the moment."
"Well whoever we get to help with the marketing, whether it is Andre or someone else, it is highly unlikely they will know all of the products on both of our lists. What I would like to do is call around and see if we can get at least one sample of each item on our list to start working on an inventory list. I know it might be difficult this time of year, but I figured as the Channels just closed for the season we might get lucky."
"This is a very good idea. I can talk to my family here and see what is available and as you are tied up with the council interests there perhaps Alexandro can get samples from the Calabrese line." Elena breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't be the one calling everyone. Besides, he would know better who had what as the head of the family.
"That sounds great if you can get Grandfather to agree."
"That shouldn't be a problem. I would need the physical address."
"It would be best to send it to the store." She gave him the address.
"May I ask if you have spoken to Andre or if you have looked into another designer?"
"I did actually. I was just finishing looking through his portfolio whe
n you called. The portfolio is impressive and I have a meeting with him scheduled for tomorrow afternoon."
"Sounds like you have a busy Monday morning ahead of you."
"Yeah," she sighed, thinking about the military meeting. "Should be a real hoot." Peter laughed.
"I am certain you will do well."
"Thanks. I would like to ask you a question though."
"Of course," he replied.
"Looking at Andre's resume it looks as though he is currently working for quite a good firm. Yet he agreed to meet with me about this job." Elena paused not quite sure how to ask if he had threatened Andre. Peter laughed.
"I assure you I have not brought any family pressure to bear."
"And the other members of your family?"
"Nor have to my knowledge any other members of my family. You know you really are beginning to think like the Council." Elena froze. She forced herself to breathe.
"I have no interest in being Council." She was proud that her voice remained even.
"Of course, of course. And if you want to know Andre's reasoning for agreeing to an interview I am afraid you will have to ask him."
"Very well," Elena said still willing her heart beat to slow.
"Good, I have been looking for facilities where the labeling and repackaging could be done and I believe I have found one. I will be sending Nicolas to check into it this week."
"That is great," Elena commented feeling better that they were back on the business at hand.
"And I had a thought."
"Oh?"
"Yes, while getting started with some of the prepackaged food items already available is a wonderful plan. I have in the past had some wonderfully inventive meals aboard the Docking Facility that combine earth foods with non-earth foods. There is a chef I know, very inventive, who might be able to expand our range of available goods."
"That sounds like a good idea." Elena said warily. She could hear Peter smile through the phone.
"And you are leery of expanding before we even get off the ground. But the experimentation for making these acceptable for the non-guild might take some time. May I contact and approach in a preliminary fashion the chef I mentioned?" Elena realized he was asking her permission as the person in charge of decision making for their enterprise. The thought left her dizzy.
"That sounds like a good idea, for preliminaries," she answered cautiously. "May I ask who you have in mind?"
"Consuelo McCracken," he answered. Elena blinked.
"The head chef of Grazos?"
"The former head chef of Grazos," Peter corrected. "She had some sort of family issue earth-side and needed to be closer to her family for a while. Apparently the limited range of ingredients is making her a bit cranky. I thought this might be a good solution."
"I see." Consuelo McCracken had not been born of the families. In fact, no one was certain where she was born and most suspected the name was assumed. She was a large, rather eccentric woman and her hair color changed with her moods, green and purple being the two most often featured. She had piercing blue eyes that rarely missed a detail and was more than willing to use a cooking implement to rap someone across the knuckles. The owner of Grazos, one of the finest eating establishments in the Docking Facility, had come across her one evening, sampled her food and offered her a job instantly. Or so the story went. Elena had trouble picturing the family of this woman. "I didn't know she had family."
"Neither did anyone else actually. I will be able to let you know how these ventures fair later in the week. Also I would like to hear about the outcome of the first military meeting. It would help to know where their line of reasoning takes them. Perhaps it will enable us to keep one step ahead. Or at least break even. Is there an evening that would work for you?" Elena thought of her schedule in her head.
"This week Thursday should work. Around 8ish maybe?"
"Sounds fine to me. I will call you then." Elena hung up the phone and heaved a sigh of relief. Having people thinking she was gunning for a Council seat was very high on her Not to Do list. In fact it was circled in red and underlined. Twice. Elena shut down her computer and went back in the living room.
Thinking about the unthinkable was not a good way to spend the rest of her day off. Elena made herself a sandwich and took it to the living room. She pressed the power button on the remote control and the television sprung to life. It was still on the movie channel and midway through the Philadelphia Story. They were running a Katherine Hepburn marathon. Elena settled in, willing to enter someone else's reality for a little while.