Maddy's Oasis

A Novella

CHAPTER ONE

Madeleine Winters gazed out the car window at
the construction site-- nothing more than steel beams and concrete
to her untrained eye. Her mouth fell open with a silent curse.
Beams in the vertical steel frame had been forcibly bent until the
building resembled a partially bloomed flower wilting in the middle
of the west Texas desert and not the gleaming hotel it was supposed
to be. Her field was program management, not construction, but she
doubted the structure sitting in the middle of the desert was
right.

"Wow!" Eric, the car's driver and her
personal assistant, exclaimed. "That can't be normal."

Her gaze went to the two bright yellow
bulldozers near one corner. One was still connected to a beam by a
thick steel chain while the other had been tipped over. She stepped
out of the car's AC into to the desert's sauna-like heat and
shielded her eyes despite the sunglasses.

There were more signs of intentional damage:
crushed tiles, colorful graffiti, and tools and construction
materials scattered everywhere.

Her black suit was meant for the temperate
weather back east and her slingback heels for sidewalks. A late
flight left her tired, and the sight of her pitiful project
worsened her headache. She felt sorry for the building, even
knowing how ridiculous that was. Given the project's bloated
financials, she suspected the amount of damage done would soak up
more money and time than she had.

Which was why her boss, Nigel, offered her
such a pretty bonus if she could complete it on time. She'd
expected a mess, but nothing like this.

“You probably should learn to fire people
more politely,” Eric said. He was a wiry, small man who appeared to
be no older than fifteen despite being closer to thirty than she
was. In one hand was a BlackBerry; in the other, a PDA.

“I thought I was polite,” she said with a
frown. “Where the hell are the security guards Alex hired before
ditching this place last week?”

“Alex didn’t do a lot of things he said he
did,” Eric reminded her with a glance down at the PDA. “Alex pissed
off-- or fired-- the only four local companies capable of building
this far in the west Texas desert. The last we had to bring in from
… I can’t even pronounce it. I don’t even know if they’re based in
the US. It’s Javier and Sons Construction.”

Anyone who knew Alex knew he
couldn't handle organizing his car let alone overseeing a
mega-challenge such as The Desert Oasis
.
The misshapen beginnings before her
were meant to be real estate tycoon Dylan Howard's latest venture:
an exclusive, uber-luxury spa and hotel stranded in the middle of
the Texas desert, one so exclusive that non-millionaires would not
be invited to stay.

Alex was on his way out, and this had been
the final push. No one had heard from him since he ditched the
project a week ago. She understood why.

“That must be them.” Eric indicated the
single-wide trailer off to one side. It was nestled between stacks
of sandstone and hefty wooden crates. Four large white utility
trucks with extended cabs were parked a short distance from the
office. Several men perched on the edges of the trucks, and the
door to the office was open.

Her phone rang, and she looked at the number,
recognizing it as her mother's doctor's office. She motioned Eric
onward and answered.

"Is this Madeleine Winters?" a prim voice
asked.

"Yes."

"This is Grace from the billing department at
Dr. Jordan's."

Madeleine grated her teeth, knowing what
Grace was about to tell her.

"You missed your last two payments. I don't
want to refer your account to collections. You'll have to find a
new doctor if you're not able to bring your account up to
date."

"I took out a loan that should've transferred
to my account today," Madeleine replied in the same tone. "If not,
I'll have it tomorrow. Either way, I'll transfer the funds by noon
tomorrow."

"Very well, Ms. Winters."

Madeleine hung up and drew a deep breath. Her
mother's cancer treatment and nursing home had already eaten
through both their retirement savings and a second lien on her
house. Her credit cards were maxed out, and the bank had been very,
very hesitant to extend the latest lifeline. When Nigel offered her
the six-figure bonus for finishing this project, she leapt at the
opportunity, even though her gut warned her against it.

She needed the money too bad to say no.

She regained her resolve and made her way
carefully toward the office, twisting her ankle only once on the
rocky ground beneath her four-inch heels. She straightened and
dusted her suit jacket before ascending the rickety metal stairs to
the office.

The contrast of the building’s dark interior
blinded her. She paused inside the doorway and blinked, making out
several quiet forms in a small reception area sporting two worn
couches in front of a cluttered desk.

She raised her sunglasses
and gazed at the three silent men standing before her. One beefy,
older Mexican's white shirt labeled him as
Javier.
Another wore blue with the
familiar logo,
Smithson
Contracting.
The third was small and round
with an oily smile.

“Good morning,” she said when no one spoke.
“I’m Madeleine, assistant to Mr. Howard, and the new project
manager assigned to oversee completion of the Desert Oasis.”

She offered her hand to the nearest man,
Javier, whose barrel-chested frame made her feel tiny. He gave a
hearty shake. His grizzled smile-- as rough as his salt and pepper
speckled start of a beard-- widened at her direct gaze. His skin
was caramel, the dominant shade in southwest Texas, his eyes bright
blue.

“Javier, of Javier and Sons,” he responded in
a thick, slow Spanish accent.

“Larry’s Security,” the small, oily man said,
stepping forward and holding out a hand.

“Ah, Larry’s Security,” she said. “You’ve
been in charge of my site for the past week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I received your
phone call but didn’t understand. Thought I’d drop by and meet
you.”

“I appreciate your visit,” she said.
“However, my message was very clear. Your services are no longer
needed.”

“Ma’am, I was hired by-- ”

“Alex. I know. And I’m releasing you. I
confirmed our last payment to your company. If you would like to
contest either your payment or your release, here is the number to
Mr. Howard’s attorneys’ office.”

She handed him a card. Without awaiting any
further objection, she turned to the man in the Smithson
uniform.

“Jim Smithson,” he said, sticking out his
hand.

While not impressed by any of what she had
seen so far, she was the least impressed by the man before her.

“How may I help you?” she asked.

“My contract with-- ”

She cut him off. “Your contract has been
terminated. Here, for you, is the card for Mr. Howard’s attorneys.
Raise any complaint you have to them. Or you can await their call.
Mr. Howard is leaving it up to me whether or not to press charges
for this disaster you call a building. The local inspector already
faxed us his initial inspection results indicating a great deal of
negligence in your performance. Eric, escort Mr. Smithson and Mr.
Larry out.”

She took a step back and folded her hands
before her. Mr. Smithson's face flushed, and he sputtered while Mr.
Larry just stared. The men went without a word. Eric beamed a smile
and followed them.

“Coffee, Eric!” she called after him.

She glanced at her awaiting contractor,
Javier, and crossed to the cluttered desk, not sure where to start.
Stacks of papers, an accounting book, trash, and office supplies
were piled on top. The mess was representative of the shoddy
reporting and inconsistent status updates Alex sent their boss,
Nigel, throughout the months he was running the project. There was
no way to know what Alex had been doing, or even how far he had
gotten, and she doubted the trashed desk would be of any help. She
set her briefcase on top of the nearest pile of yellowed papers and
popped it open.

“These are the revised blueprints based on
Mr. Howard’s directions. I need an estimate today of the extent of
damage, cost to repair, schedule for repairing, and an estimate on
the time, materials, and manpower needed to resume and complete
construction. Do you wanna write this down?”

She turned to face him, pad of paper and pen
in hand.

Javier was smiling, his amusement visible in
the crinkling around his eyes. He stuck the blueprints under his
arm without looking at them and tucked his thumbs into the wide
belt of his jeans.

“No, ma’am,” he replied.

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “You’ll need
something to write down the numbers, at least.”

“It’ll get done when it’s done.”

“What does that mean?” she pushed. “It must
be done immediately.”

“I suggest you prioritize what you want done
soonest.”

“I told you what I want done.”

“Won’t get done today.”

She gazed at him hard.

“I’m being honest,” he said before she could
pursue. “Out west, we do things a little different, a little more
slow.”

“I realize that,” she said. “But if you won’t
perform as I want you to, I’ll replace you.”

“Well,” he said with a pause. “Alex drove
away every other construction company between here and Houston,
which is a twelve-hour drive. You’re stuck with us, unless Mr.
Howard wants to pay double for someone else. It’s been my
experience that rich men are stingy men. It’ll get done, Ms.
Madeleine, but it’ll get done when it’s done. Good morning,
ma’am.”

And he walked out. She stared at the wall
before her, resisting the urge to scream and throw her shoes.

“Mr. Javier!” she called as she followed.

His long strides toward his trucks forced her
to trot precariously on her toes. At her approach, Javier turned to
face her. He automatically reached out to steady her with a beefy
hand as she wobbled on the heels.

“I need some sort of timetable of when you
intend to have my tasks done,” she insisted. “When do you intend to
start, how late do you work, how many men you have at your
disposal. We have much more to discuss, and I would greatly
appreciate a timeline of when you plan to do what I covered on my
list.”

“Where do I get coffee around here?” Eric
asked, approaching from the direction of their rental car.

“This little lady doesn’t need any coffee,”
Javier grumbled. “Her pretty little head’s about to spin off.”

”There’s a diner down the road, Eric. We
passed it on our way here,” she told him. “Bring two cups-- oh, and
I’m going to need a microwave, mini-fridge, and office supplies for
this little … shack. And cleaning supplies. Maybe some food and
bottled water.”

Eric jotted down her list with a quick nod.
She turned to find Javier had continued toward his trucks without
her.

“And call around to see what other
contractors are in this area,” she said in a quieter voice.

Eric smiled before snapping his PDA in place
at his hip and jogging to the rental car.

Irritated by the lack of urgency or concern
about the mess behind her, Madeleine quickened her pace toward
Javier. He strode by one truck and motioned to the men loitering,
directing them toward the building with a few quick words in
Spanish she didn’t understand. He paused to stand at the lowered
tailgate of one truck, where he handed the blueprints to a man
seated on the edge.