It was the next morning.
Albert and Ginger flew back to the Los Angeles airport on another United Airlines flight. Their vacation in paradise was over, and it was back to their dull lives.
Albert and Ginger walked out of the United Airlines gate with all the other passengers. Everybody looked rested, and many sported beautiful bronzed bodies from the Hawaiian beaches.
"I wish we could have a live-in paradise like Hawaii. I'm really not looking forward to getting back to the office," Albert told Ginger while they walked down the terminal.
"Maybe I should get into another line of work. Being an accountant is getting extremely boring," she replied and held his hand.
"Maybe racing cars, you have experience with all these speeding tickets. I'm just happy you've haven't had one in six months," he replied with a smile.
"Don't rub it in."
They walked arm in arm down the terminal with Ginger in deep thought about something that weighted on her mind for the past couple of days.
They walked toward a TV, which showed the news.
"The San Fernando police just released their report that Bob Grove of United Alliance Security, committed suicide after being caught with child pornography on his work and home computers," a female reporter said outside in the UAS parking lot in front of the camera with the UAS building in the background.
Ginger ignored the TV while they walked past it.
Albert's eyes widen and stopped.
He rushed back and stared at the TV.
"Then in a bizarre twist, Bob's sister, Wendy Harper, was found dead from an apparent drug overdose, in her apartment in San Francisco. Police are trying to determine if her death was also suicide due to the suicide of her brother in San Fernando," the reporter added.
Ginger walked back to Albert. "What's the matter?"
"I knew that guy in college. He was a freshman and a huge computer geek. I never would have suspected he was into child porn. Then his sister died. How strange is that?" Albert told Ginger.
"Life is full of bizarre events. Let's get home," she said then grabbed his hand and walked him away.
Teen minutes had passed.
While they waited at the carousel for their luggage, Ginger's cell phone buzzed. She looked at the viewfinder and saw it was a text message. She walked away from Albert while she read the text message.
She typed a response then sent it.
"Who was that?" Albert asked curiously while Ginger walked back over to him.
"The office again with a question about some tax issue," she said then slipped her cell phone into her purse. "I'm going to hate returning to work," she added.
"Why don't you look for a new line of work?" Albert said then his eyes widened when he saw their luggage coming down the carousel.
Ginger thought about that for a few seconds. "I think I will," she replied, and thinking of a new career made her smile.
Meanwhile, up on the top floor of UAS, Chuck Moore, a sixty-two-year-old UAS executive, with a head of thinning white hair with a bad comb-over and a huge pot belly, stood at his office and watched the TV truck outside in their parking lot.
Grant Adams, a fifty-five-year-old executive, and Kirby sat on the couch. Grant turned off the forty-eight inch HDTV that hung on the wall.
"Perfect. Now that the media folks and police are buying that story, our two problems have been eliminated. Is the project for the President still on track?" Chuck asked while he walked away from the window and sat down behind his desk.
"His trip is still scheduled for Vegas according to my source," Grant replied.
"How is hotel security looking, Kirby?" Chuck asked.
"It's looking great. And Viper accepted the assignment," Kirby responded.
"Is Viper qualified to handle this type of job?" Chuck asked a little concerned with this change so late in the game.
"More than qualified, in my opinion," Kirby replied with a reassuring tone.
"Okay. Is our San Francisco friend ready?"
"He helped with the previous problem, and he's prepared to handle any future ones," Grant replied.
"Super, now, how are you going to prevent another breach in computer security?" Chuck said while he glared at Kirby to remind him that he's still pissed with Bob Grove being able to copy that database.
"I transferred everything to my laptop, and it's locked up in my desk," Kirby replied and felt the pressure of Chuck's eyes.
"It better work or you might go flying yourself," Chuck said while he glared a Kirby.
Kirby didn't look the least bit worried with Chuck's treat.
"Okay. I'm leaving for Paris, so keep me updated. This is our big one, and we can't afford to screw it up," Chuck added.
Kirby and Grant nodded in agreement then got up and walked out of his office.
Back at their Burbank home, Albert and Ginger spent a quiet day relaxing.
Albert watched TV, and Ginger seemed to be preoccupied.
Albert believed she was thinking about her job, which was stressful or possibly a new career. He hoped she would find a new job that didn't require traveling all the time.
The next day, Ginger reviewed some financial records at her desk at the Hooper and Coffman Accounting office in Los Angeles.
Her desk phone rang.
Inside the Sanderson and Whitfield Architectural firm in Pasadena, Albert sat at his desk where it was neatly organized with Architectural renderings on the wall. He was impeccably dressed and worked on some blueprints at a drafting table. It was the Wilcox building that was under construction and about seventy-five percent complete.
"Hey beautiful, how's my sexy wife?" he asked and smiled while he thought about her while he talked into his phone.
"I'm fine. What are you doing?"
"I'm working on changes to the Wilcox building. What are you doing?" he replied.
"I'm reviewing some boring financial report," she said.
"Well, I'll make sure tonight won't be boring," he replied while he had thoughts of an evening of passionate lovemaking.
"I can't wait. Well, I better get back to work before my boss chews me out for slacking," she responded.
"I love you," he said and waited for her to respond with the same. He waited a few seconds and no similar response. He looked bothered. "Are you okay honey? You haven't told me you loved me in a while."
"I'm sorry, Albee. This new contract has been occupying my mind. I love you," she said then quickly disconnected their call.
Albert looked troubled while he hung up his phone.
It was a beautiful starry night, and there was one star that got bright then got dim.
In their home, Ginger was already in bed and was reading a murder mystery book called Confession, as that was the only types of books she read.
Their TV in the bedroom showed President Billy Barrow, sixty-five years old, and he was ready to give a speech from the Oval Office.
Ginger had the sound turned down, so the President wouldn't keep her attention away from her thrilling story.
Albert walked out of their bathroom in a red Speedo, and he appeared to be well hung when, in fact, he was just of average size. He strutted over to Ginger.
"Tonight, I'll address the nation concerning my plans to get America off their dependency from Middle Eastern oil. We'll develop hydrogen-powered vehicles and other alternative energies. And we will be completely independent of foreign oil in fifteen years," President Barrow told the TV audience.
Albert grabbed the remote by the bedside table and turned off the TV. "President Barrow is a moron!" Albert said then set the remote down on the TV stand.
He strutted up to the bed and pounded his chest. He gave out a weak Tarzan yell.
Ginger chuckled and the second Albert got to her side of the bed, she reached out at his Speedo and pulled out a sock that was stuffed inside to give him that well-hung appearance. She laughed while she dropped the sock to the floor.
Albert pouted.
"A pacifist Tarzan. How funny!" she said and chuckled.
Albert jumped in bed next to Ginger.
"I know what you mean, I couldn't harm a fly."
Albert kissed Ginger's neck. "Do you know Tarzan loves you so much and could never live without his Jane? Speaking of which, why don't we have a baby? That little boy with the cap gun got me thinking of being a father."
Ginger frowned. "You know my thoughts on having children."
Albert looked disappointed and accepted her usual answer.
Ginger looked preoccupied while she went back to her book.
Albert lay in bed and knew that their night of hot sex was out of the question. He closed his eyes in disappointment.
It was the next day, and Ginger read a magazine on expensive European homes at her desk.
She picked up her desk phone and punched in a number.
Albert was busy in his office on the blueprints for the Anderson building. His phone on his desk rang. "Albert Taylor," he answered.
"It's me," Ginger said from her phone.
"Hey beautiful," Albert replied and had a huge grin.
"Listen, I have to work late. I should be home around eight-thirty," she said in a serious tone.
"That'll work, as I have a softball game after work, then I'll come home and make you a superb dinner," he replied.
"You and that dumb softball."
"I don't know why you hate it so much. Try it, you might like it," he said.
"Maybe, anyway, I gotta get back to work. I'll see you tonight," she said.
"I love," Albert said but couldn't finish what he wanted to say because she quickly hung up.
Albert looked upset while he went back to his work.
Later that night, Albert came home from his softball game and quickly took a shower.
After he changed clothes, he hit the kitchen to make Ginger a superb dinner. He whistled while he prepared dinner.
Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang on the kitchen counter. He rushed over to it and smiled when he saw the caller.
In the parking lot of the accounting firm, Ginger walked out into the starry filled night where a star got bright then got dim.
Ginger walked to her car while she talked into her cell. "Albee, I'm on my way home, and I'm starved!"
"You'll love what I made," he replied from her cell phone.
"I can't wait," she replied, then dropped her cell phone into her purse.
Ginger looked serious while she walked thru the parking lot to her silver 2009 Acura ZDX.
A homeless bum stumbled up to her. "Spare change?" he asked while he held out a ratty box.
"This is private property. Get out, or I'll have you arrested," she replied and glared at the bum.
The bum rushed off, as something about Ginger really spooked him.
"Take a bath you scum bag," she yelled at the bum while he rushed away.
She got inside her car and looked a little unsure of herself. She pondered life for a few seconds then looked determined
She started up her car and drove out of the parking lot.
At the far end of the parking lot, a black 2010 CL-class Mercedes Benz followed Ginger's car. This Mercedes was the standard UAS company car.
That Mercedes, with two occupants, soon passed Ginger's car while she drove down another street.
A little while later, Ginger drove her Acura down Mulholland Drive. As usual, she drove a little too fast for the winding road.
That 2010 CL class Mercedes Benz drove down the road and went around a bend on Mulholland where there was a twenty-foot drop from the edge of the road.
A few minutes later, she raced her Acura around that same bend.
A few seconds passed, and a loud crash was heard.
Then an explosion was visible from the bottom of the cliff. It was Ginger's car.
Two hours passed, and Albert sat at the dining room table with dinner, ready for Ginger. He looked at his watch, and it was nine that night. He looked worried to death while he looked at his cell phone. He punched in Ginger's number, but then the doorbell rang from the living room. He disconnected the call.
Albert got up and walked into the living room and to the front door where the doorbell rang again.
He opened the front door and wondered who could be visiting.
He immediately got a little scared when he saw two LAPD police officers standing outside his door. Both cops looked serious.
"Are you Albert Taylor?" the one officer asked.
"Yes, sir."
"There's been a bad car accident with your wife, Ginger," the other officer said.
Albert dropped to his knees in shock, as he knew exactly what this meant.
The officers both picked up Albert to his feet and walked him inside the living room.
The officers sat down on his couch.
"Your wife's body was severely burned from the fiery crash. We were lucky to find identification from her purse that apparently survived. I'm so sorry," the one officer stated in a comforting tone.
Albert sat on the couch in shock over the news, and part of him believed that this was all a colossal misunderstanding. He expected Ginger to walk through the front door any second.
Two hours after the officer left, Ginger never walked through the front door.
It took a few days to confirm with her dental records that Ginger did in face die in that car crash. Albert now lived in a daze.
Ginger's funeral was held the following week.
Albert was visibly shaken, and some of his coworkers comforted him while he stared at her coffin that was ready to be dropped into the ground. His eyes were red and watery, and he looked like part of his soul died.
Nobody from Ginger's accounting firm attended her funeral.