Chapter One
Knowing that Dallas was a fun place to visit, Minor Fox steered his car
back into the entrance driveway of the Crescent complex feeling a pleasant
anticipation. A uniformed valet attendant handed him a stub and he placed the
ticket on the dash of his new burgundy Cadillac Seville. He carried his briefcase
through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. He knew that most Dallas residents
called it simply, “The Crescent.”
It was nearly noon and his stomach agreed with his watch. After dumping
his purchases in his room, he rode down to the coffee shop for a light lunch. The
special club sandwich with turkey sounded great, so he ordered one but only ate
half of it, quenching his thirst with a German beer. Another trip to his room to
prepare his gear and he was ready for his little adventure.
He retrieved his car from valet parking and drove over to a strip center he
passed on other errands. Checking the rear loading zone of two stores, he found
two empty cartons about the size he needed. Stuffing them with packing and
paper, he resealed them with packing tape he purchased earlier and tossed them
in the back seat.
Following the path he had checked earlier, he entered the rear parking
garage behind Market Hall and the World Trade Center. Carrying the boxes, he
entered the delivery door to the permanent showrooms. It was the day before
the big Apparel Market Show so the guard paid him no attention. Foxy had seen
several people bringing in boxes of samples on his preview this morning.
Normally, he would have been checked for an exhibitor badge, but the two boxes
would visually shield his badge anyway.
He stashed one of the boxes in the first large trash container he found and
began a survey of the showrooms. People were opening boxes, erecting
displays, and getting ready for tomorrows opening. He kept moving down
various hallways carrying the remaining box until he found what seemed to be a
good possibility.In one of the accessories sample rooms, there was no activity. The
merchandise was well organized and the attractive employee sat at the small
desk looking bored. Her expression changed little when he entered the
showroom and put the box down.
“Hi,” he said in a pleasant voice, “I know I’m a day early, but I won’t be
here tomorrow and I wanted to see the new line before I had to leave.”
He read from her name badge that her name was Denise.
“It didn’t come in today,” she said, standing up but keeping her dejected
look. “It is lost in transit and the shipper has a tracer out to locate it.”
“Are you sure,” he asked, looking disappointed.
“I should know, I’m the manager here. I’ve been on the phone for hours, I
finally sent all my helpers home to trim the overhead.”
“Wow,” he said fingering a table of scarves. “I sure was counting on
looking at the new line. How about these? They look different than what I’ve
seen.”
“What type of shop do you have?”
“I’m Minor Fox and I have a regional chain of boutiques in Arkansas,
Louisiana, and Mississippi.”
She perked up a little and walked over to the table. “Nice to meet you, I’m
Denise. Those came in from China about two months ago. For real silk, we think
they are a good buy.”
“If they are as good as you say, I will probably take two gross. Are you
sure they are real silk,” he asked, holding one up to the light.
“Sir, I’ve been in this business for six years. I can tell you with certainty
that they are real. Those scarves on the table next to that one are of synthetic
material. After you have been around it as long as I have, you can tell the
difference blindfolded.”
Foxy couldn’t let that statement pass, it was too good an opportunity.
“I have ten bucks that says you can’t!”
Surprised, she grinned as her mood changing rapidly.
"If you're serious, you are about to part with ten dollars.”
As she looked at the table with confidence, Foxy said, “Now I know you
must have this showroom memorized by now, so I have three conditions.”
She looked at him skeptically. “What conditions?”
“Well, for one, I want you to tie a scarf to each wrist so they will get in your
way as you feel the merchandise. Then I want to turn you around about three
times to disorient you. Third, I plan to swap some of the scarves to other tables.”
She thought a minute and replied with confidence, “None of that will make
any difference, go right ahead.”
“I will select the scarf for the blindfold,” he said. “I want to be sure it isn’t
too thin.”
“Then pick one from the synthetic blends table . . . the silk ones are almost
transparent.”
Foxy began to examine several from the table. “You can be tying the
scarves to your wrists while I’m looking.”
She tried unsuccessfully to knot the end of a scarf around her wrist. “I can’t tie a knot with one hand,” she said. “You’ll have to do it.”
Foxy tied the first one. “That’s not too tight, is it? I just want it to get in
your way while you are feeling the material.”
“It’s fine,” she answered, so he tied the other one on.
“Can you put on the blindfold,” he asked, “or do you want me to do it?”
She grinned, “I might be able to but these scarves on my wrists will be in
the way.”
He twirled the scarf holding opposite corners and gently wrapped it over
her eyes and tied it securely behind her head. He twirled her around and asked
her to stand in one place while he moved some of the scarves around.
“Okay,” he said. “Find me two silk scarves.”
She moved around, feeling her way by holding her hands in front. She
found a table and began to rub material between her fingers. Before she
ventured an opinion, she found the right wrist scarf and let it slide through her left
hand to be sure it was not what she held in her hand.
"This is silk,” she said with confidence.
“Final answer?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Okay,” he said, “you are just too sharp for me. You may remove your
blindfold, dear. You have just won ten dollars and dinner tonight at the Crescent
if you can go.”
She removed the blindfold with a smile. “I should be taking you to dinner.
You're the customer.” she said.
"If I treat, I might get a better discount," he replied with a chuckle.
“You're a schemer," she said, smiling, "It might get you some free
samples.
Thinking for a moment, she added, "Why don’t I just meet you there about
4:45, then I won’t have to drive all the way home and come back. Traffic in Dallas
is a killer, you know. I will even buy you a drink, since you are a prospective
customer,” she added.
He handed her a ten dollar bill, shook her hand, and said, “It’s a date . . .
see you in the Crescent Hotel bar at a quarter of five.”
He picked up his box and walked out.
Foxy dropped the box in the nearest trash container and made his way
back to his car. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was 3:30 already. After
checking his car in with the valet attendant and riding the elevator to his room, he
had a few things to arrange before going to the bar.
He picked up the new handcuffs he just purchased, hung them on his belt
in the small of his back and folded a new scarf neatly into his jacket pocket. He
felt to be sure his handkerchief was still in his pants pocket and walked to the
door.
“This should be an interesting evening,” he thought as he entered the
elevator.
Her Version of the SituationThe day started off normal enough. Denise Smith arrived at the Dallas
Market Center about 8:30 and opened the showroom. Her three helpers walked
in just before nine to get the showroom ready for tomorrow’s opening day.
Her phone rang. It was the Vice President of the company.
“I have some bad news, Denise,” he said. “We just received word that
those samples of the new line won’t make it in today. They traced and found the
shipment in Tallahassee. It seems some thick-headed clerk couldn’t read the
shipping label.”
She replaced the phone and announced to the girls. “Well, looks like you
gals get the day off.” They all seemed thrilled and departed in a hurry. Denise
shook her head in disgust, things just weren’t going right.
Her life had been a wreck for the last year, ever since the divorce. “Here I
am, thirty-three years old and still nothing seems to go right,” she thought to
herself. “I’m going to miss a bunch of sales tomorrow without the samples of our
new lines. That will get expensive.”
After puttering around most of the morning while answering the few phone
calls, she mopped over the thought of lost commissions. The small lunch she
brought lost its taste, so she phoned a few good customers to let them know
about the lost samples.
Still bored and depressed about things not going well and having worked
long hours, she rarely had a chance to go out on dates. In this job, she also had
very few opportunities to meet anyone.
One of the reasons for her depression with the sample-fiasco was that she
received a commission on sales in addition to her salary. The absence of
samples would cut into her anticipated income severely.
“Poor me,” she lamented to herself. “My life is in a rut.”
The door to her show room opened and she saw a nice looking man enter
with a box in his hands. She watched him set the box down.
“He must be with one of the other exhibitors,” she thought, watching him
browse the sample tables. When he asked to see the new line, she realized that
he was a potential customer.
As she explained about the lost shipment, she noticed that he wore no
wedding band but that meant nothing these days, many men did not wear one.
He introduced himself and she didn’t recognize the name of his company, but
with the mergers and acquisitions these days, it was difficult to keep up.
She liked his manner, he seemed very sure of himself. His challenge to
her expertise about judging silk stirred her to action. She needed a break from
the boredom of the day and she loved challenges.
“If you're serious, you are about to part with ten dollars,” she said with
enthusiasm.
Pleased at the opportunity, she would delight in showing this man that she
knew her business. He had been examining the scarves and it was obvious that
he didn’t know one kind of material from the other. She also knew that it was
easier to feel the difference than to see the difference.
She listened to his conditions with amusement. They proved how little he
knew about material.“I can teach him a thing or two,” she thought to herself. “I’m going to
become his expert and he should buy most of his accessories from me.”
Denise also found him to be stimulating and decided that she would like to
know him better. When he asked her to tie scarves around her wrists, she tried
but couldn’t complete the knot with one hand. He seemed to find that amusing.
She thought the little game bordered on ridiculous, but it was amusing and it
broke her depressed mood. It also seemed to keep him in a good mood. Little
did he know that this was not much of a challenge.
He was right about one thing. She did have the showroom memorized.
She knew exactly what she had and where it was. She decided to play a little
helpless, figuring that would make him feel better.
He was considerate when he tied the scarves around her wrists, she liked
that. In fact, she was beginning to feel attracted to this interesting man. There
was something sensual about a scarf tied around her wrist. She had no concern
about him tying on the blindfold. He was considerate with that too.
After spinning her around, he said, “Okay . . . find me two silk scarves.”
She was a little nervous, probably from spinning around blindfolded, she
decided. Wearing a blindfold with a complete stranger was a new feeling, she
wasn’t quite sure why she felt vulnerable and slightly aroused.
She reached out gingerly and took a step forward. Once she reached a
table and ran her hands over the material and knew instantly what she had. The
only thing that could foul her up was the scarf on her wrist so she eliminated that
possibility by running her other hand over it.
“This is silk,” she said with confidence.
“Final answer?” he asked.
She nodded, amused at his sense of humor by including a line from the
TV quiz show. She was even more amused to hear him cave in so easily.
“Okay,” he said, “you are just too sharp for me. You may remove your
blindfold, my dear. You have just won ten dollars and dinner tonight at the
Crescent if you can go.”
Her pulse quickened at his invitation, maybe her luck was changing after
all. Dinner at the Crescent was no small deal. It was high society stuff.
“I would like that,” she said.
Then on impulse, she said “You're a schemer . . . it might get you some free
samples. Why don’t I meet you there about 4:45, then I won’t have to drive all the
way home and come back. Traffic in Dallas is a killer, you know.
She heard herself add, “I will even buy you a drink since you are a
prospective customer.”
A little surprised at herself for being so forward, she chalked it up to the
problems and boredom she had been experiencing.
“I’m gonna get out of this rut I’m in,” she reminded herself.
She watched him leave and became more aware of the mild arousal of her
body.
“Wow,” she muttered to herself, “I haven’t felt those juices stir in a long
time, this is almost like a teenager going on her first date.”Denise checked her clock and began to put her notes away and clean off
her desk. With no business, she made the decision to close early and fix her
face before she left for the Crescent. The ladies rest room on her floor was
deserted, so she took her time. She could still felt his lingering touch from when
he tied the scarf around each wrist.
“This should be an interesting evening,” she decided, as she walked to her
car.