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By the time I finished doing what had to be done at the college, mid-afternoon had arrived. I called Beth's work number and was informed that Ms. Idaho was on vacation and wouldn't be back for about another ten days.

I hung up and, then, lifted the receiver up again while I punched in her home number. The phone rang about five times before switching over to an answering machine. Beth's voice apologized for not being there to take the call and requested the caller to leave a message after the beep, promising to respond to the call as soon as possible.

I told Beth what my intentions were in relation to our getting together. I made several suggestions about possible times and places for the meeting, and I hung up.

I began tidying up the desk and throwing a few things into my briefcase as a prelude to my trip home. As I was sorting out the clutter on the desk top, I spotted the letter from the foundation that had come in the home mail yesterday.

When I left for the office in the morning, I had brought it with me, thinking I would get to it at some point during the day. Now seemed to be as good a time as any other to see what it was about.

I opened the envelope and pulled out its contents. The letter was handwritten and on a rather fancy letterhead. The individual writing the letter was someone by the name of Dr. Timothy Jameson. He was an executive officer, whatever that meant, of the Bettinger Foundation.

The message was very brief. I was being asked if I would be available to join Dr. Jameson for lunch at the Foundation this coming Friday in order to discuss a mutually beneficial proposition.

Under Dr. Jameson's signature was a number. I checked my watch and saw that the time for normal office hours had not yet passed by.

I deliberated for a moment or so. Finally, I decided to give him a call and try to obtain more information.

After entering the Foundation's phone number, I waited for the connection to be made. The line rang once and a man's voice answered: "Jameson here."

"Dr. Jameson, my name is David Phelps. I'm responding to the note you sent me that invited me to lunch on Friday at your Foundation."

"Oh, yes...yes, Dr Phelps, I'm glad you called," he said.

He was about to go on when I said: "Actually, Dr. Jameson, I was hoping you would be willing to tell me a bit more about what the purpose of the lunch would be?"

The voice chuckled: "Worried about being hit up for a contribution, are we?"

"Well," I said, with some degree of embarrassment, "the thought had crossed my mind. But, if you don't mind my being a little blunt, I'm also concerned about not wanting to waste your time or mine in a meeting that may not be going anywhere."

"Perfectly understandable, Dr. Phelps, and I appreciate your forthrightness," he said reassuringly. He added: "While I would prefer not to talk about the specifics of the meeting over the phone, I will say this. The proposal I have in mind concerns a position as an external consultant on an issue which I know is very close to your heart."

When I didn't say anything right away, he indicated: "Dr. Phelps, if the proposition doesn't interest you, you can reject it with no hard feelings on our part, plus you will be getting a free lunch in a pretty good dining room."

I was curious about what the issue could be that was so close to my heart. Finally, I tossed a mental coin and said: "Sure, why not? Where are you, and what time is lunch being served"

"The address is underneath the letterhead logo," he pointed out. "As for the time, how does 1:00 p.m. sound?" he inquired.

"Yeah, I think that will O.K.," I responded. Then, I asked: "Where will we meet?...your office?...the dining room?"

"I'll be waiting for you in the lobby of the Foundation, Dr. Phelps. I'm very much looking forward to having an opportunity to meet and speak with you. I've wanted to do so for some time now, but we can talk about all that when we meet. I'll see you on Friday, Dr. Phelps. Good-bye."

I said: "Good-bye," as I heard the click of the disconnected line. I hung up as well.

When I got home from the college, I checked for telephone messages, but there were none.

I phoned Beth's number several more times before retiring for the evening. Apparently, she still hadn't returned.

The first few times I called her, I hung up when I heard the click indicating her answering machine was about to be activated. On the final call I left another message which informed her that I was going to sleep and that I would call her the next day.

I phoned her periodically throughout the following day without success. Each time I hung up before her machine switched on.

When I got home late that evening, there was, like the day before, no message from Beth. Before going to sleep, I left another message somewhat similar to the one I had sent the previous night. In addition, however, I told Beth I had called her at work several days ago and had found out about her being on vacation. Consequently, I wouldn't call anymore because I was going to proceed on the assumption she had gone somewhere, and, therefore, I would await her call whenever she returned from wherever.

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