Page 10 of Corporate Escapades

Sighing, Vic said, “Fine. Paris, I’ll be right behind you.” She could hear the irritation in his voice, but was thankful he planned to come after her.

“You’re bailing her out?” screeched Meagan. “Why?”

“For more reasons than I care to admit,” he replied sharply. “I think you’d best be going. Don’t you have a husband to get back to?” he asked, pointing her toward the door.

“Vic Alarie, you’re a real jerk!” she hissed as he slammed the door in her face.

“That’s what they all say,” he said quietly.

Walking over to his fridge, Vic grabbed a beer and proceeded to flop down on his couch. What the heck just happened? Had Paris lost her mind? Despite his general distaste for her, he had to attempt to make things right. The last thing he needed was the press to find out about his affair with Meagan and Paris trying to steal her shoes, then decking her in the nose. It was a bad situation.

Finishing his beer, he retreated to the bedroom to find more suitable clothing. Once dressed, he called for his driver and began the jaunt down to the main floor.

It only took fifteen minutes to arrive at the station. When the car came to a stop, he lowered the window separating him from the driver. Leaning forward, he said, “Ricky, if I’m not back in thirty minutes, come check on me, please.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Alarie.”

Opening the door, he stepped out of the limo and adjusted his suit coat and tie.No need to look like a vagrant walking through the doors, he thought. Pausing for a moment, he took in the station’s exterior. Built of brick, it looked cold and unfeeling. He couldn’t help but think he and the building had something in common. Pulling his wallet out, he checked to see how much cash he had. More than enough. “Let’s do this,” he said out loud.

It was eleven in the evening, and the festival was still in full swing. Paris’s parents, Nicola and Mikel, and Vic’s parents, Dom and Jessamine, were relaxing in a tent listening to a jazz group and enjoying the fruits of their labor. They were deep in conversation about the success of the festival when Dom’s phone vibrated. Glancing down, he saw it was the local police department. “Excuse me a moment,” he requested of his friends.

Walking away from the crowd, he picked up the call. “Dom speaking.”

“Hey, Mr. Alarie, it’s Brett. We’ve got a minor problem. I’ve got your son down here at the station.”

“Super,” replied Dom. “I didn’t even realize he’d left. What’s the damage?”

“Yeah, you might want to sit down for this.”

Twenty-minutes passed before Dom returned to the table, his bald head looking as red as a tomato. The others stared back at him, waiting for him to speak.

Cracking his knuckles, he said, “Vic and Paris are in jail.”

“What?” asked Nicola.

“Not again,” said Mikel, shaking his head.

Jessamine narrowed her eyes. “Again? What do you mean again?”

Dom, looking at Nicola and Jessamine, said, “Paris entered Vic’s apartment while he was with Meagan Heathrow and attempted to steal Meagan’s boots. When Meagan confronted her, Paris punched her in the nose.”

“She hit her?” Nicola asked, her green eyes widening.

“That girl has a problem with stealing, and now she’s becoming abusive. It’s shocking that she hasn’t been arrested more times. How’d Vic end up in the cell with her?” asked Mikel.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” said Dom. “He bribed a cop.”

Jessamine’s head dropped into her hands as she let out a groan. “Why didn’t he call us?”

“He just did,” replied Dom. “Apparently, I need to better teach him how to handle these types of situations. Anyway, I told Brett to leave ‘em in there tonight to think about what they’ve done. We can deal with them tomorrow after the festival has ended. Brett will keep things quiet for now. No use causing a commotion in the middle of our largest event of the year.”

“What about the media?” asked Jessamine. “Won’t Meagan talk?”

“Nah, unlike our son, I know how to deal with these situations properly. I called our lawyer. It’ll probably cost us a little, but tonight’s episode won’t reach the media. Little Mrs. Heathrow has enough to lose. She dropped the charges for fear that her husband might find out the truth. Spending one night in county won’t kill Vic or Paris. If anything, it’ll make them think twice before acting out next time.”

“Tomorrow, we need to sit down and have a real discussion about how to handle our children,” said Mikel.

“What do you mean, our children?” questioned Jessamine.

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