Laura's Big Win

By Michelle Tschantre'

In Windmere Series, book one, “Laura’s Big Win”, the reader meets Laura Nessing and Ryan Williams, two people with deep emotional voids in their hearts. The common thread is the place called WINDMERE, a former private estate, maybe with some magic included, but certainly with dynamic relationships as things evolve between Laura and Ryan, each filling the void in the other’s life, unsure about many things but sure in the growing love each has for the other. Many of the characters one meets in book one also play parts in subsequent releases, such as “Score One for Angela”, and “Magnetic Love: When Opposites Attract”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Tschantre'
• Release date: Apr 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311870438

Michelle Tschantre'

Michelle Tschantre' has accrued years of "people" lore, mostly listening and encouraging, letting them find their own way past whatever issue prompted the conversation. The WINDMERE Series of fictional events uses some of those experiences, a little science here and there, some reality now and then, a belief that there may be powers greater than we know, and an everlasting belief in good outcomes for good hearted people. It is what the author has come to believe over the years: plan for the worst, hope for the best, deal with the reality. In “Laura's Big Win”, the foundation is built for the books that have followed, with some of the same people, some new faces and problems, and Windmere in there somewhere keeping it all going.

Book preview

Laura’s Big Win

WINDMERE series – book one

Michelle Tschantré

Smashwords Edition

Laura’s Big Win

Copyright © 2010 by Michelle Tschantré

All rights reserved.

{4th Edition © 2018}

Cover Design & Formatting by: Laura Shinn Designs

http://laurashinn.yolasite.com

Smashwords License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this ebook without purchasing it and it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

Laura’s Big Win is a work of fiction.

Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author. Any resemblance of characters in this story to any person living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Dedicated to:

...the survival of love.

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

About the Author

Preface

In Windmere Series, book one, Laura’s Big Win, the reader meets Laura Nessing and Ryan Williams, two people with deep emotional voids in their hearts. The common thread is the place called WINDMERE, a former private estate, maybe with some magic included, but certainly with dynamic relationships as things evolve between Laura and Ryan, each filling the void in the other’s life, unsure about many things but sure in the growing love each has for the other. Many of the characters one meets in book one also play parts in subsequent releases, such as Score One for Angela, and Magnetic Love: When Opposites Attract.

Chapter One – Ryan, In The Beginning

Ryan Williams happened to be an only child, but by neither his nor his parents choice. The baby who would have been his brother never made it into the world, and the miscarriage with his mother’s general condition dictated there would be no replay. The good news was that his parents, however they may have favored him, always set high standards, not unrealistic standards, but ones he could reach only by stretching his boundaries. And he stretched regularly. Always attracted to a challenge, he took AP courses in school, ran the lonely man’s sport of cross country, played football and basketball as well. Ryan always managed to find a part time job, whether at the resort his parents owned and operated, or in the off season doing deliveries, whatever it took. Someone having a hard time with their own kids asked his parents one time how they talked him into going to college, and his father replied We never talked about if he was going; we just talked about where. ‘If’ never came up.

An observant learner in the school of business, Ryan quickly learned that to really get ahead of the pack, he needed something the pack didn’t have, and he reviewed his assets. Other than the somewhat small resort his parents owned and operated, there wasn’t much in his asset stack. Too, he believed they would probably expect him to come home after graduation and help run the place; after all, he did consider his life up to that point to be a result of their care, and although they didn’t really look at it that way, he felt he at the least owed them some time back.

Ryan considered his future potential at some length. He was aware that he did not have the resources to start out on his own, that he would have to find some means of leveraging what was available to him already, which was limited to what his parents already controlled. He was also acutely aware that their assets represented their financial future, so whatever he did, he would have to ensure their protection. After studying the options at some length, he realized that possible expansion of the existing operation was probably out of the question. It would be costly at very best, and there were already plenty of rooms available in the general area. The other problem was that the site was limited both in physical size and by being at the end of the access road; that’s when he realized the biggest asset of the site, limited access. ‘Privacy,’ Ryan thought, ‘is what I can use. Suppose I make this a privacy issue, maybe a security issue, even put in a control gate so traffic is limited. I don’t have to sell the sun and water; everyone here does that for me. Suppose I sell seclusion and security; we’re already at the end of the road, so I can control that, and the other side of the site can easily be made inaccessible. We can spruce up a little, maybe add a gate house, and charge accordingly.’

The summer of his senior year in college he worked on his plan while helping out his parents around the resort. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the women lounging by the pool watching his tall, muscular form walk by. It was simply that he reasoned there would be time for that later; he had other things to do. At the end of the summer, he presented his plan to his parents, even telling them the risks involved. To protect them, he had devised a property exchange deal where they would sell the property to him, a bank would hold the mortgage, and Ryan would be on the hook through his own corporation to repay that money. His parents realized he had covered all the bases, including hiring them back to run the operation until they wanted to retire. That way, their assets were well protected should anything go wrong. They were impressed that their son had seen some potential they had never suspected existed, and after looking at all his homework, decided they should support him in his efforts. The real change was nine months away when he would return full time to make the alterations and take over the operation.

Ryan initiated internet advertising, staying away from the lengthy mundane chat about tennis courts, water sports, and things like that, and instead touted benefits of comfort and security with all the amenities for yourself and your friends in our family compound. He was well aware how much it sounded like a similar site up in Hyannis Port that everyone knew about, and liked the comparison for the exclusive tone it set. Better still, he noted the exclusive clientele, and the limited openings remaining available for the summer, even though he actually had no real bookings at the moment. The physical work took place during May while the facility was shut down, and with Ryan there as much as he could with school still in session, things took shape quickly because of the intense and interlocked planning he had done. His parents were briefed each Sunday before he returned to campus on what was to take place the next week, and things unfolded like an inflatable toy, including inflating the new poolside toys. Memorial Day saw him out of school except for final graduation in June, the new gates turned on, and an immaculate used Mercedes Limo in the drive for the runs to the local airport. Knowing the best internet sites on which to advertise had been mostly good research, with a little luck thrown in; within 24 hours of the web site opening, bookings came in like birds on wing, including credit card numbers, reservation fees, the works. If he was at all nervous, Ryan did not show it on the surface, strolling through the guests with a smile and confident stride, as often as not drawing a lustful glance over the shoulder from a wife or girlfriend on the prowl. But this was business, and Ryan understood the requirement of keeping his life and that of the business as separate entities.

Although they operated year round, the three summer months were critical in profitability for the year, or so Ryan thought. In the past, the resort had operated year round because of the temperate climate, but the off season bookings were a little more scarce, and while they did bring in a net positive bottom line, it was as much to keep good employees working as to make a significant profit. What Ryan had not anticipated was that his business plan had all been based on the former operation. This new operation had a life of its own, and a much different business plan. High end spenders vacationing there with their friends, mostly female, saw the potential for using this place as a tax write off for secure business meetings in the fun and sun, an opportunity frequently pointed out by Ryan as soon as he saw the direction things were taking. Sensing a growing opportunity, Ryan took some of the revenue flood and built a media center adjacent to the main dining room but with access to the pool. It could seat maybe 40 persons comfortably, but was appointed with materials that could withstand patrons right out of the pool returning to a presentation after a poolside lunch and a quick dip. The attraction was immediate, and their fall bookings went to maximum. Ryan was aware of the success, but was particularly pleased with himself the day the local airport manager called to thank him personally for the private plane landing fees he had been collecting that summer, and into fall. It was, he said, a bonanza to their small operation.

One of the fallouts of the successful migration from public resort to private playground was this young man’s growing reputation among other resort owners as having not only the foresight and knowledge to make the change, but the internal fortitude to pull it off while still attending class. Ryan was now full time, as were his parents, but he realized there was a lot more fun in creating this place than in operating it. He didn’t mind the daily operations, and frequently found things to improve on, but the routine didn’t stimulate him and he soon discovered the need to hire a manager to handle many of the daily routine items. His parents understood the need, and were in many ways grateful for the additional young staffer who could handle things on a 24/7 basis. Ryan saw to it that the pay scale was more than adequate, since he wanted little or no turnover in staff. And one day, when a competitor called about hiring his management services, Ryan took the bait. His only stipulation was that he not be hired to work against himself; he considered that to be a conflict of interest, regardless of how many promises were made, and could not allow himself to do it. But that didn’t keep people from calling anyway, and after a couple of successful business turnarounds, he had a whole new direction on his plate.

Three years into the new business plan, Ryan realized there was more he needed to know, particularly about financing things and how to protect himself and his parents if nothing else. A number of his alliances had now grown into multi-million dollar operations with overlapping layers of financing that seemed just a little hazy to him. After considering how to approach the situation, he changed his working arrangement to part time and at the ripe old age of 25 enrolled in a two year MBA program at his alma mater. It was almost strange to be back in class again, particularly since he was a little older than the majority of students. Many of them had simply stayed in school after graduating from four years, and the vast majority had no real clue how business actually functioned in the daily activities of the world. Ryan soon learned that a number of the faculty were equally limited in actual application, but the courses he needed most, finance, were frequently taught by business persons who had retired and elected to teach part time for something to do. Ryan quickly became rather a pet student, but he worked hard at not letting it interfere with learning. The first year passed quickly, especially with commuting home now and then to help earn his keep and a limited number of consulting jobs on the side when he felt the need to get away for a few days. Financially he was in good shape, but when the student teaching job came open, he was encouraged to take it by his professors. He often reflected back that they were just trying to get even with him for being in their classes, but it was in good fun and certainly a new challenge for him. Being in front of people was no problem, but doing a different routine every day and staying ahead of the class was a new challenge he relished as a mind exercise.

Three days into the course, he discovered another reason for teaching: Mary Younger, sitting about the middle of the room. But this was business, and as he had done at the resort, he kept his distance, only taking admiring glances when he was sure she was not looking. Ryan was very good at maintaining business confidentiality, but the personal level was something at which he was not practiced; it was down to a matter of hours before Mary was made aware of his interest by every other woman in the class, even if he did keep his distance. She had been doing course work at a junior college part time, trying to decide what career to follow, and now in her mid-twenties, she had decided business courses were where she needed to be and she transferred to full time. A dedicated and bright student, she seldom needed help with anything in the course, but that didn’t stop her from creating opportunities for Ryan to step up. Meeting in the campus coffee shop to allegedly discuss a class, Ryan finally broached the subject of their relationship and explained why he had been maintaining his distance, the student-teacher thing and all that. Mary understood his dilemma, but it didn’t change her mind. This man was worth going after, and she opened the dialogue.

We’re on quarters, and we are now four weeks into this course. In eight weeks the class will be over. I guess what I really want to know is, when the class is out, is that it for us, or is there more? A girl has to sort of know these things, you know, and truthfully, I just can’t read you, so I’m asking.

You know me, at least some, and you know why I’ve stayed at arm’s length; I think that’s only fair to the other students. But I’m not blind, or unaware of you. At the end of class, if I reach out, will you be there?

If you want me to be there, I’ll be there.

I want you there, and I think it’s going to a damn long eight weeks; if we can stand that much, it’s good practice for a lifetime.

Mary was startled at this turn of events, from a simple dating situation to a comment about a lifetime commitment, but she realized this was a man who knew what he wanted, and she was apparently what he wanted, pretty much sight unseen. Maybe he was a quick learner, or a good reader of people, or something. She only knew for sure that she wanted to know all those things about him, and it would indeed be a long eight weeks.

Chapter Two – Mary, In The Beginning

As things turned out, the commitment ran a little over the eight weeks they had planned. At the end of the spring quarter, Ryan and Mary enjoyed two graduations and a wedding all in the same week. After a two week honeymoon traveling about the globe, they returned to home base and started looking to the future. Mary was aware that he was ambitious to a point, less for the personal wealth he would gain than for the challenge of the project, and she enjoyed wrestling with the data to see how they could work things out. It was not unusual for them to be up at all hours working on something, but the important thing was that they were together and they enjoyed each other to the max. When he became be too serious, she would poke fun at him, and where her data became boring, he knew just which rib to tickle to get a wrestling match started. They were a duo to reckon with. One of the late nights Ryan had been scanning the internet looking for real estate potentials, maybe a place they could take over or buy out, and convert into a really exclusive business oriented resort with all the A/V, IT, and every other gadget modern business needed to function, combined with tight security. One thing they had not looked for was a home since they had agreed they would take five years to work out their wild ideas then settle down for the long haul; couple of kids, and probably a pet or two to fill up the house.

Mary, look at this place for sale in some burg called Conyerville. It’s an old family estate the heirs want to get rid of. Come see. I think we should go take a look. What do you think?

Wow, it has everything. Are you sure we can swing the deal? It looks huge, even has a golf course attached to it, and at least in the pictures it doesn’t look like it needs a lot of work. What are they asking? Oh, okay, I see the price. God, that’s all? Are they crazy?

No. I’d say they’re spoiled brats who have no idea what a gold mine they have on their hands. All they see is an old building from which they want to get some money then go down the road. People like that have no vision, no sense of the possible. Think we should take a look see?

Yes. I can get us a letter of credit in the morning. Do we have any hours left on the Gulfstream?

Enough hours to get us there and back. I’ll call up the schedule, and if it’s clear, I’ll e-mail the pilot now so he gets it first thing in the morning and we can make the run.

The Conyerville airport was a rather nice field, albeit a little small, and didn’t see many planes like the charter Gulfstream that came rolling in. Worse, there was only one rental car left, or as Ryan surmised later, maybe one car was all they had. Regardless, they made their way to the place called Windmere and met with the realtor. He seemed a little reluctant to be there, as though he thought maybe these kids were simply a waste of his time. He quickly learned it was not a fool’s errand when the questions came rapidly, on point and in depth: taxes, utilities, easements, any liens, any problem with neighbors, current zoning and could it be changed without too much difficulty later, police protection, fire protection, any plans for airport expansion, local workforce availability, and so on it went for several hours. Both Mary and Ryan took copious notes and shot dozens of photos inside and out of the house, carriage house, cottages, golf course club house and potential for a pro shop. Quick estimates were drawn up of the remodel and repair work needed, and refinishing of surfaces; the utilities were marginal and the air conditioning units were showing tell tale oil seepage around the gaskets. All told, it would be a substantial renovation project, but it was within range. Ryan suggested they retire for a late lunch then meet in the realtor’s office with the owners; there was no sense, he said, in the realtor taking offers and running back and forth between the parties when they could do this eyeball to eyeball and see where things shook out. The realtor was indeed grateful since he was not accustomed first of all to dealing with people like this, or property like this, and the owners were, as Ryan surmised, spoiled brats who were difficult to deal with at best.

Over lunch, Mary and Ryan planned their strategy, good cop/bad cop, and nailed down all the numbers they would need. That done, they discovered the food they had been mildly ignoring was rather good, and home baked pie even better heated, with vanilla ice cream on top. And Ryan noted as they paid and left a generous tip that it was a curious fact that the cook’s name was Cook, Doris Cook. He’d have to remember to dine there again if the deal went through.

And go through it did. Meeting face to face, the heirs were no match for Ryan and Mary; every counter offer was countered lower and documented, leaving no doubt about who was really in charge of the negotiations. But finally, they decided their time per hour was worth more than they could gain per hour of negotiation, and they made a last offer, payable in cash, right then. To say the realtor was stunned when they made one phone call and transferred the entire purchase price was a significant understatement. The heirs were left with enough after the negotiations that they could enjoy it for a few years before it was squandered; Mary and Ryan found themselves with a project level to the top of their heads and couldn’t wait to get started. It would be a long haul the first year, although the final price was well within their reach and their financing would cover nearly two years of renovations, if it took that long. Ryan still commuted to consulting jobs, taking Mary along when possible. After a long year of hard work, including much of their own sweat, Windmere got a new ornate sign at the front entrance and a power security gate that could crush a small car. With things well in hand, and bookings starting to pick up, Ryan suggested in passing one day that the small stand of woods off to the side of the main drive had a clearing large enough for a house. Up until that time, they had been living in adequate quarters in the main house, working all hours, and enjoying each other, but Mary quickly picked up on where Ryan was going with the house idea.

Yes, I think maybe it’s time. But I want to build exactly what we want, so don’t be in a hurry. First of all, I have a basic idea what I want, but what it really comes down to is how many bedrooms and bathrooms. Wild guess?

Yes. Five and six. Maybe seven. I mean, suppose your mother comes to visit; we’d need at least one bathroom just to store her curlers. And....

Mary had lunged at him, bowling him over and jamming a finger into his ribs. Make comments about my mother will you? Take that, and that, and Oh God....

Ryan had retaliated by rolling her in his arms and legs and had her totally helpless while he nibbled on an ear. The planning resumed later in the afternoon, and it did include five bedrooms and seven bathrooms, although Ryan could not be specific as to why. He just said that seemed like a nice number for some reason or other, but that if the house was designed right, they could add a room or two later and it would still all blend together. The basic plan would be two story frame, with the first floor arced so the kitchen, breakfast room, dining room and great room were all one open space, but the kitchen would be out of sight from the great room, and mostly out of sight from the main dining room. The bedrooms would be cantilevered over the great room so the access balcony would have visibility into the great room but the bedrooms themselves did not. Mary dove into the project, but it was always their project, not just hers or his.

Almost a year later, and without the loss of any large trees, the house had taken final shape before them, complete with some antique appurtenances they had discovered in their travels, such as the double door entrance with stained glass sidelights they had discovered in a house about to be demolished in New England. The house had run a tiny bit over budget according to Mary’s numbers, by a large 30% according to Ryan’s numbers, but Ryan’s attitude was that money in the bank wasn’t food, or shelter, or warmth, and brought him no happiness; spending for the house did bring him happiness if for no other reason than the smile it brought to Mary’s face. For that alone, price was no object, although they were hardly breaking their bank with the revenue they were seeing. Furnishings took months to acquire, carefully selected piece by carefully selected piece, and only two of the bedrooms were furnished with very specific items, although one of the other bedrooms was comfortably furnished to be a guest room. The main bedroom was a work of art, complete with a work alcove with all the bells and whistles and connections, huge his shower and an equally sized her bathing room, king sized bed, and a massive flat screen television on the wall that could be fed a multitude of signals; there was even a balcony over the porte-cochere with sliding doors to enjoy the evening breeze, and a table with a couple of comfortable chairs for reading or maybe drafting some piece of an idea. The second bedroom started to acquire furnishings for very small occupants, although no specific traditional color pattern was developed. Mary decided the colors would be neutral so there could be no gender bias, although Ryan reminded her that he was very gender biased, particularly for her gender and all the things she brought with her.

Move in day included a staff party, house tour, all the good things that come with a completed project; everyone was impressed with the noted transitions in the house, from the more farm house style large kitchen through to the more ornate and staid great room. Even in the formal great room there was a diversity of furnishings, at once tasteful and refined, while retaining comfort as a primary goal. It was a house to be lived in, a home, and the homeowners were delighted both with the final results and with themselves.

There’s just one more thing we need, maybe two. Mary noted later that night. They had finally retired for their first night in their beautiful bedroom after a long day, and with the lights out had opened the cover on the expansive skylight to look at the stars.

I’m not sure the budget can stand just one more thing, but for you, anything my love. Could I go slay a dragon or something, just so it doesn’t involve having to get out of bed now that I’m all warm and comfortable with your cold feet all over me, Ryan responded.

Nope, no dragons. And you don’t have to get out of bed. In fact, that would sort of ruin my plan. I stopped taking any birth control meds two months ago. Wanna play baby roulette with me?

You know, I thought something was up. You’ve been a little different the last few days, and I like it. Sure, I’ll play. Any instructions?

Shut up and use Braille.

In a fairy tale they would have lived happily ever after, but as the months went by and there was no pregnancy, they started looking for reasons, never blaming or accusing, always as two people with one life and one goal. Testing didn’t seem to rule anything in or out for either of them, although one doctor did say he knew something was wrong but just couldn’t quite identify what he was seeing. And then there was the tired feeling Mary seemed to get from time to time, although she always gutted it out as was her nature. They still had a thriving business to run and she had every intention of doing her full share until other duties called. It was during one of those tired spells that Mary decided to go from the office area to the house to lie down a bit, not something she ordinarily did but today things just seemed to be a little worse. Coming back from an errand, Ryan asked her whereabouts then went to the house to see how she was. It was then he found her comatose, and the run to the hospital was on. Again no one could seem to find the problem and Ryan pulled out all the stops. Calling people with the right contacts, they flew to Minnesota for a consult, and wished they had not gone; at least now they knew what they were dealing with. The oncologists simply said there was no radiation, no chemo, no nothing that would even slow down the tangled entrenched tumor in her brain, that the end was inevitable and not too far distant. They could prescribe pain medication, but were otherwise helpless. They were also quick to point out that it would have made no difference if the tumor had been discovered sooner; its malignant nature and fast growth made it a killer without equal as cancers go. Worse still, there was no surgery for removal or even reduction because of the way it grew in the brain cells.

Ryan and Mary returned to their beautiful house, with a full time nurse, and a lot of prayers. Mary often sat up in the recliner when she had the strength, watching the beauty of the wildlife around the house, and she would not let Ryan hang around but made him continue functioning. Joking about it, she chided him that he might even have to learn how to run the washing machine after all, something he actually could do, but avoided when at all possible. Thoughts of children were gone. And then one evening, while Ryan held her hand and watched her as she slept, Mary’s spirit left, and with it a sizeable piece of everything he had come to care about.

Ryan awoke with a start. His mind told him he had just heard Mary talking to him, saying I have to go now, my time here is over. Remember that I will always love you. Please don’t live your life alone; you’re a good man, the best, and somewhere there is a good woman who needs you very much. Do this for me, my love. Goodbye. For a long time he would be unsure if what he thought he heard was real or not, but he did know Mary was gone and he was in severe pain. She would be laid to rest three days later after a procession of mourners had filed by and stayed near for hours, maybe not so many in numbers, but a multitude in the outpouring of emotional loss. One of the things they had discovered in building the house was a small private cemetery on the grounds in an adjacent clearing; there Mary would rest in the sunlight, with an American Beauty rose at the headstone, for she truly was that. For his part, Ryan kept himself contained as was his nature, but he moved back into the apartment and ordered the house closed with no one to go there; the hedge was allowed to grow until it all but obscured the house from his sight. Work became his refuge, and as the staff grew at Windmere, he traveled more and more, trying to escape the memory.

Chapter Three – Laura, In The Beginning

Laura Scott rather liked numbers and the way they seemed to explain things and made them work, even in grade school. She was less interested in pure math than in story problems, which pretty well explained her later interest in business accounting and in information systems. Although she dated some in high school, she did not have the outgoing personality type of two-years-younger sister, Nancy; Laura tended to look a little farther down the road than Saturday night at the movies or a house party. College was a must for her long range plans. Although she did not rule out husband and family, it was more of a mirage in the distance with little substance and given little thought.

After two years at the local junior college, Laura transferred to State as a Junior, and looked forward to graduation in two years. Her summers were spent in a variety of odd jobs, everything from a stint as a cook in a sandwich shop to a job weighing trucks at a concrete batch plant. She had fond memories of the batch plant job, and even fonder memories of the revenue it produced. The plant was involved in a continuous pour for nighttime highway construction work, and she frequently worked the twelve hour overnight shift; the shift differential plus overtime pay made for a really nice paycheck every week and she was pretty well set financially for the fall session to start. Then too there was the driver banter on the radios, although they were very careful about their language in an effort to impress this beautiful young woman at the scale house window. Laura wasn’t interested in them but was always friendly and polite; most were married with children anyway, but she was a bright spot in their world otherwise filled with screaming engines, diesel exhaust, and cement dust. She would look back in a few years and marvel at the simplicity of it all.

Her Senior year was just as demanding time wise as the other years, but she was getting better at budgeting her time, and now and then found time for