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On hearing Alli’s name, he rolls over and jumps up, then runs for the door.
“Sorry, boy. She’s not coming. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”
He sulks back into the bedroom and flops at the foot of the bed.
“I know exactly how you feel.”
* * *
Friday. The big day. I didn’t even notice the last two days fly by in a flurry of preparations.
Scotty helps me load up the Dog’s Paw truck with the equipment, as there’s a good chance I’ll need to show some rock-climbing skills. The radios and crimpers are there, too. I’ve got some of the winter equipment, as that will form part of the demonstration, even if where we’ll be today is purely rock.
“You’re prepared for everything,” Scotty says, hauling the last harness into the truck.
“Better that way. My worst-case scenario is they ask me something super specific that I could have shown but hadn’t bothered to bring along.”
“You give those folks a lot of credit,” Scotty chuckles. “They don’t know anything about mountain rescues. You’re the expert around here.”
I gasp. “Scotty. You’re right. I have to change my approach!” I run at full speed back toward the Dog’s Paw with Ranger on my heels.
“What did I say?” Scotty says in the distance.
They aren’t going to be interested in the technical minutiae of mountain and avalanche rescue scenarios.
I’ve got to go for the emotions. Give them enough detail to see that I’m an expert, but then play on what this is going to bring to the Dog’s Paw. How this work of life-saving is life-changing.
I scratch out a bunch of my notes and scribble some testimonials, cases where either I was the one doing the saving or I watched it happen.
Oh, this is good.
There was the time a child had slipped off a plateau. That one chokes me up, and it’s hard even to get the story down on paper. And there was the time Ranger found a woman who had tumbled and broken her leg so far off-piste that even her skiing party couldn’t locate her.
“Terence?” Receptionist Rita calls down the hall. “Miss Chardonnay is asking if you’re ready for departure. She’s got the investors assembled.”
“On my way.”
I gather up my papers, double-check they are in order, and slip them into my messenger bag.
At the front of the Chateau Rose, Miss Chardonnay has a small group of very overdressed individuals who I can only assume are the investors. Their footwear is not appropriate for where we are heading, and I did not take that into consideration.
New plan…
“Monsieur Green,” Miss Chardonnay introduces me like I just arrived as a debutante to the ball. To be fair, it feels a bit that way.
The investors applaud politely.
I bow.
That was weird.
“Hello, everyone.” I nod to each of the six individuals who have joined Miss Chardonnay. “Wonderful that you could make it on such short notice.”
A man in a suit more expensive than my car steps forward. “Miss Chardonnay put it in no uncertain terms that you are about to… how did you say it, Miss Chardonnay?”
“Shock ze pants off you.”
“Yes,” the investor says. “That’s the one.”
