Gerrie Nelson - Lab Notes

“Oh, those must be the Pittsburgh scientists, Charlotte chirped.” Having a new purpose, she bustled her way through the crowd.

Gabriel found Charlotte’s crowd control methods entertaining. She insinuated herself into the group gathered around Diane and Vincent Rose, then dispatched people in all directions. One man was handed Diane’s satin jacket. As for the others’ assignments, who knew? At any rate, she managed to shrink the circle to Raymond, herself and the Roses.

After much ado and pointing, Charlotte aimed Raymond and Vincent toward the pilothouse stairs. Then she led Diane, by the arm, back toward the bar. It was Gabriel’s observation over the years that, initially, people either loved or hated Charlotte Bellfort. All but the strongest personalities became irritated and even overwhelmed by her social maneuvering.

As the women made their way toward him, Diane was subjected to more introductions and a hair smoothing by Charlotte—“the sea air will either frizz or flatten you, Darlin.’” Gabriel could see that Diane was truly enjoying herself.

At last, she stood before him with a firm handshake and a cordial “Hello.” To Gabriel, introductions were usually such mundane things, but not here. Above Diane’s amazing smile blazed intelligent, analytical eyes—deep green like the sea. They drew you to them, then seemed to glean more than you would ever want to give voice to. Gabriel blinked first.

Carlos Carrera unknowingly rescued his son when he approached to introduce himself. The elder Carrera took Diane’s hand between his and bowed to her. Then he straightened up and said, “I cannot adequately express my pleasure at making your acquaintance.”

Diane responded with a tender smile “The pleasure is all mine,” she said, and she meant it—even though she had no idea who the white-maned gentleman was.

Behind Carlos, a striking young man in his twenties smiled and bowed slightly when he and Diane made eye contact. She was about to ask Carlos if that was his grandson when Charlotte cut short the introductions and hurried Diane to the next group of guests. Along the way, in response to Diane’s questions regarding Carlos Carrera’s behavior, Charlotte waved her hand dismissively and said, “Carlos is a just a lonely man who had always wanted a daughter.”

“I see,” Diane said, then thought: No, there’s something more to it.

In the pilothouse Raymond Bellfort started up the powerful engines and allowed them to idle while he pointed out the many electronic instruments to Vincent.

Upon their arrival at the yacht, Vincent had been taken aback by Raymond’s glad-handed greeting. He had to work hard at making the connection between the intense Raymond Bellfort he had met at lunch in Pittsburgh and this chummy Texas host who seemed to be putting forth an effort to become fast friends.

But soon Vincent became caught up in the boating milieu: the electronics, the performance, and curve of the hull—and the camaraderie of it all.

Now, a fortyish man with a wiry build and a sure step walked along the forward deck and turned to look up at the pilothouse. Raymond gave him a thumbs-up, and the man signaled to crew members who busied themselves undoing dock lines.

“That’s Colton Fey,” Raymond said. He’s our harbor master and full-time captain of the Enterprise .” Raymond judged that Vincent wasn’t the type to be interested in company twaddle such as Colton being referred to as “Studley” owing to his rumored sexual exploits. “He does a great job at overseeing her maintenance and moving her to different destinations around the world when we need to entertain our overseas people.”

Raymond didn’t mention why Colton Fey was not at the wheel that evening. The fact was: it was a tradition at BRI that Raymond Bellfort took the helm during the Christmas party. He liked the symbolism involved.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Raymond said, patting the back of a leather seat beside the helm.

Accepting his host’s invitation, Vincent settled himself into a chair to the right of the steering wheel.

Raymond unsnapped his bow tie, opened his collar, then positioned himself at the helm. He shifted into reverse and throttled both engines. The huge hull backed slowly out of the slip.

Working the gears and the bow thruster, Bellfort easily maneuvered the yacht out into Galveston Bay heading east.

“Well done, Captain,” Vincent said with a smile and a mock salute. He was truly impressed with Raymond’s boat handling.

Bellfort smiled, acknowledging the compliment. “Ahh…You ‘blow boaters’ need to show us ‘stink boaters’ a little more respect. Contrary to belief, this is not as easy as driving a car, eh mate?”

Vincent chuckled and nodded politely while he tried to remember exactly when he had told Raymond Bellfort that he and Diane were sailors.

After a moment he shrugged. Maybe Raymond had seen them admiring the sloop berthed down the dock from the Enterprise on their way in. “That sailboat in your marina – Woodwind —is that yours also?” Vincent asked.

“Affirmative. I got it for a steal after the DEA confiscated it from drug runners.”

“Nice name for a sailboat,” Vincent said.

“That’s why I never changed it.”

Bellfort’s mind went on alert. After a few measured seconds he added casually, “If the weather cooperates, you’re welcome to take her out for a sail… Tomorrow you’ll be touring BRI most of the day. But on Sunday, your flight back to Pittsburgh isn’t until evening, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You can take her out on Sunday morning.”

Vincent grinned broadly. “I’ll talk to Diane… I appreciate the offer.”

“Think nothing of it. You’ll be doing me a favor. You know how boats deteriorate if they’re not used every now and then.”

Raymond felt the tightness across his shoulders start to ease up. Things might work out after all. The Roses showing up at the party indicated a willingness to look at what he had to offer them. For the past weeks of sleepless nights, Raymond heard a voice saying, “Just make it happen, just make it happen.” How did he get into this situation?

People always said Raymond Bellfort was quick on his feet when working out a business deal. But having been placed in the position of needing the Roses more than they thought they needed him severely compromised his bargaining power. It presented an obstacle to what he saw as the natural hide-and-seek, give-and-take of negotiations.

Through his sources, Raymond knew the Rose’s federal science grant had been denied. That sort of thing was not unusual in this climate of government cut-backs. Most scientists in their position would jump at his job offer—but not the Roses. Vincent Rose saw himself as a university researcher; he had already begun the hunt for non-traditional funding.

Raymond’s informants had told him that Vincent was the consummate scientist. He loved his work, and if it weren’t for the annoyance of having to eat occasionally, he would probably work without pay.

Vincent had grown up with all the creature comforts. His father Vincent Rose Sr. (the family name, Rossetti, was shortened to Rose when Vincent Jr. was a child) owned a successful chain of six Italian restaurants and pizza shops in and around Pittsburgh. Vincent had never wanted for anything. As a result, money was not his hot button.

Diane Rose was more pragmatic. She had been raised in a blue-collar environment. Her father had been killed in a steel mill accident and her mother died of a blood disease shortly after. She was raised from an early age by her grandparents. She was fortunate to be able to go through school on scholarships.

Raymond felt he might be able to entice Diane Rose by playing the salary and benefits cards. As for Vincent Rose: worry-free research funding at BRI could possibly attract his interest.