Friends and Family Series

The Dirk Devlin Story

By: Ron Robbins
(© 2011 by the author)
Editor: Frank Perry

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

Brett Harcourt and his mother, Molly, were seated in the drawing room of Harcourt Hall discussing several important issues that the Board of Directors put forward earlier that afternoon. Brett made a weekly trip to Harcourt Hall to have dinner with his mother when she was in residence. Tonight's dinner was a special because this was the week for the annual board meeting held at Harcourt Hall.

Brett dreaded this particular dinner, because every year he and Molly would end up in a heated discussion about the same issue. Molly wanted Brett to take over and run Harcourt Oil, the family business. Brett thought, 'I could set my watch, almost to the exact minute, when mother will begin her litany of my responsibilities.'  The Board had voted earlier that afternoon to approve next year's budget and operational plan. Yet there were a few loose ends that had to be approved before Brett left for the evening.

The two-day conference included the upper management and all the directors of the Harcourt Oil Company. The Board meetings were held at Harcourt Hall because Molly hated to travel to the corporate headquarters in New York City. The meetings were always elaborate affairs with multimedia presentations, highlighting the company's yearly progress, and the strategic plans for next year. The presentation helped to focus attention on the important issues that Molly and Brett had to approve for the next fiscal year.

Both were briefed beforehand on every detail of all the key issues. Yet, it was Brett's analytical mind and no-nonsense approach that his mother relied on. The Board and management knew that their facts and figures had to be accurate. If not, Brett would find the errors and withhold his approval. He had a sixth sense about honing in on a proposal and could readily pick out an error most of the time. He ruffled a lot of feathers, but they knew from experience that he would not back down. They had little recourse but to vote with him, since his mother always did. Brett and his mother were the only stockholders of Harcourt Oil. He was strong willed, just like his father. That's why she wanted him to take over as Chairman of Harcourt.

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Brett and his mother had struck a five-year bargain; they would only discuss the family business twice a year. This meeting was one of those times. Again, his mother pressed him for a decision and told him that she was tired of bearing the heavy responsibility, once again reminding him of their agreement of four years ago. Now, he had one year left to make his decision. Either he took over the Chairmanship, or they would sell the company. She was counting on his loyalty to the family business not to let an outsider take over the company. He was an only child and was exactly like his father, according to her. He had inherited his father's intelligence, striking good looks and his stubbornness. His mother's love for him and her strong faith were the two things that kept her going after his father was killed in a speed boat accident seven years prior.

To this day she has never really recovered from that tragic loss. It's true, he had become more like his father, inheriting his drive and insight into the business world. That made Brett stand out above the pack on most issues. His one failure was his inability to let anyone get inside the protective shell he had built around himself. He had many acquaintances, but no close friends. Molly hoped that it would only be a matter of time before he would follow in his father's footsteps.

The night had been rough, because Molly gave Brett an ultimatum. She told him that her doctor insisted that she slow down. She had serious health conditions and running the company didn't help. Her argument that night made him realize how frail she was. Brett realized that she couldn't continue to run the company. He loved his mother too much to let the company take her to an early grave. He had noticed how much she had aged over the last year. When Molly died, he would be alone and he did not want to hasten the process. He promised her that he would make his decision before the New Year, which was seven months away. He kissed her goodnight and took off for his apartment in Islip.

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There was little traffic on the highway as Brett drove back to Islip. The new company car was a pleasure to drive. That year it was a Buick Park Avenue. The interior was so quiet he was unaware of the speed he was traveling. The car handled like a dream. He was two exits from his turnoff when he noticed the flashing red lights in the rearview mirror. Brett pulled over to the side of the road and waited for the police officer to approach the car. The officer had a severe look on his face. Brett was prepared for the worst.

"Please hand me your driver's license and your vehicle registration," the police officer said.

Brett handed him his driver's license and slid over to the passenger seat to hunt for the registration in the glove compartment. "Give me a few minutes to find the registration, officer; this is the first time I've driven this car. Would you like to sit in the driver seat while I hunt through these papers for the registration, or is that against the law?" Brett asked.

Officer Devlin climbed into the driver's seat. "My name is Dirk Devlin, and I pulled you over because you were speeding."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't even aware that I was speeding," Brett replied, as he continued to shuffle through the envelope. "This is embarrassing. I know the registration is in here somewhere. Please bear with me. I'll prove to you that the car is definitely mine. My company treasurer is always very good about these things. Ah! Here we are! I'm sorry it took so long." He handed the officer the registration.

"This vehicle is registered to the Harcourt Oil Company," Dirk said.

"That's right. I'm Brett Harcourt, is there a problem?"

"Everything is fine, Mr. Harcourt," Dirk said smiling. "Are we talking about the Harcourt Oil Company?"

"The very same; I own the company. Well, half of it anyway. My mother owns the other half."

Dirk shook his head and looked at Brett. "I expected the owner of Harcourt Oil to be an older man, Mr. Harcourt."

"Sorry to disappoint you, and my friends call me Brett, unless that's against your code."

Dirk thought to himself, 'I'd better play it cool with Brett Harcourt. No need to make any waves with this guy. I'm still in hot water for ticketing a county official. I've learned my lesson the hard way.'

Dirk smiled, "Only when I'm on duty, Mister Harcourt. I'm not going to give you a ticket, just a warning this time. Try to stick to the speed limit from now on. The Department is having a crackdown on drunk drivers and speeders this month, so watch yourself."

"Thanks for the warning. Do you live around here, Dirk?"

"Yes, I live in Bayport."

Brett handed him his business card and said, "I own Harcourt Marina in Islip. Why don't you drop by for a donation for the PBA?" Brett said, "Who knows? I might end up selling you a boat."

"I'd love to own a boat again, but I could never afford one on my salary. I'll stop by on Friday, if that's all right with you." Dirk got out of the car and closed the door.

"See you on Friday, and thanks for only giving me a warning," Brett said just before he drove back onto the highway.

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Brett had purchased the Islip Marine Yard two years before. The former owners had let the marina rundown and didn't want to spend any money on the place. It needed a major renovation. Brett was not concerned about the rundown yard or the buildings. He wanted the land and the waterfront footage.

The first thing he did when he took over was to level the old buildings and rip out the old wooden dock. He built an entirely new complex from the ground up. When the job was finished, he ended up with an ultra-modern marina with new steel and concrete docks, loading ramps and state-of-the-art boat storage sheds. In addition to the huge boat repair facility, and the showrooms, he had an apartment built on the floor above the showrooms.

His designer turned the second floor into a large luxurious apartment. The Islip Marina was also headquarters for his Marine Division. The property and the adjoining businesses were undervalued because of the rundown condition of the area. Very few developers wanted to invest the capital to develop in the area. Brett fell in love with the location and saw the potential growth for this land. The inlet was exceptionally wide with a deep channel that would allow him to tie up his yacht. The land on the opposite side of the inlet was a private estate and the present owners kept the grounds well maintained. He felt, once the dilapidated buildings were torn down and replaced with modern structures, the land would double in value.

Brett had intermediaries buy up the property for him because he knew once the Harcourt name was involved; the present land owners would jack up the price. His lawyers set up several dummy corporations to purchase the land on both sides of the inlet. Once all the property was in his hands, he began renovating the area. The marine complex was completely enclosed with an eight foot chain link fence that was guarded 24/7.

Aside from all the other considerations, Brett liked the location. It was within a short distance of several of the better restaurants.

The business took off from the day he opened the doors. The upscale line of motor cruisers and sailboats were selling like hot cakes. What surprised him the most, were the orders he was receiving for the higher end models. People were purchasing the deluxe models with all the trimmings. The manufacturers were scrounging boats from dealerships throughout the country in order to fill his orders. The heavy investment in the new stack-berthing equipment was a huge success. Brett offered his seasonal customers a special package that included insurance, storage, and docking at moderate monthly rates. New customers were wait-listed for berths a year in advance. The customers were delighted with not having to worry about their boats during winter season or paying the premium prices for slips. A boat owner could arrange in advance to have his boat removed from its berth and put in the water on the day he wanted to use his boat. Slips were reserved for the large cruisers and sailboats.

Friday Afternoon

Brett was closing on a sale when his receptionist buzzed his office to announce that his four o'clock appointment had arrived.

"What four o'clock appointment?" Brett asked. "You know I never make late appointments on TGIF day. Who is the customer?"

"It's Mr. Dirk Devlin," Muriel said. "I'll be happy to take care of him myself if you're too busy; he's gorgeous."

Brett chuckled. "I'd completely forgotten about him. Ask him to wait until I finish up with the Gilmartins."

As Brett ushered the Gilmartins out into the reception area, he spotted Dirk admiring one of the small powerboats. "I can make you a nice deal on that baby," he offered Dirk as he extended his hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting; let's go into my office and I'll give you that check."

"If this is a bad time for you, I can come back next week," Dirk said.

"No; in fact your timing is perfect. Those folks were my last customers for the weekend. It's party time for me," Brett said, as he led Dirk into his office. "Have a seat."

Brett sat down at his desk, pulled out his checkbook and wrote out a check to the PBA. "I guess you have a big weekend planned with the wife and kids," Brett said.

"Not this weekend. My wife and daughters are upstate visiting my in-laws; I'm on my own."

"How would you like to join me for the weekend on my boat?" Brett asked. "I plan to spend the next two days cruising around the Island and I would like the company. Don't worry, I'm really a conservative guy, no drugs, or wild parties if that's what you're thinking. Moreover, this will be my treat; it won't cost you a penny. If you want to join me, be ready to shove off in an hour. We should return on Sunday afternoon."

"I'd like to join you," Dirk said. "I'll need to run home and lock everything up and grab some clothes. What's the dress code?"

"White slacks, a couple of button-front oxford shirts, white, or blue, a conservative striped tie, a crew neck sweater, a blue blazer, deck shoes, loafers, levis and a wind breaker.

"Don't worry if you don't have everything," Brett said. "I can lend you anything you'll need. I'll be on board the Brett Jr. It's tied up at the last slip at the end of the dock. You can't miss it."

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Brett was on the forward deck when he heard Dirk say, "You said a boat; this is an ocean going yacht. She's a beauty! This is the first time I've been on board a boat this large."

"Let me give you the grand tour," Brett said. "First, I'll show you to your cabin so you can hang up your clothes." After the quick tour they returned to the main deck and got underway. Brett maneuvered the yacht out of the slip and into the Great South Bay. He steered an easterly course toward Montauk Point. Brett said, "I gather you've had experience handling boats."

"My brother-in-law taught me everything I know about boats. My wife and I spent many a weekend cruising around Long Island when we were dating. After we married and my first daughter was born, a boat was out of the question. That's when my wife told me she really didn't care for boats. In any event, I didn't have the time or the money to keep a boat. When you own a house, and have a family to consider, there's not much time for a boat. As it stands right now, I spend most of my time working to make ends meet. This weekend is really a treat for me. It will be the first weekend I've taken off in months."

"It's the same when you own your own business; there's never enough time." Brett reached the Yacht Club mooring in excellent time and they both dressed in the uniform of the day, white slacks, blue blazer, a blue button-front oxford shirt with a striped tie as they walked to the entrance of the club.

Westhampton Yacht Club

The club manager made a fuss over Brett when he and Dirk entered the club. Brett introduced Dirk as his business associate. The manager personally ushered them into the dining room to Brett's usual table. Several of Brett's friends nodded as they were passing.

Their waiter came over and took their order and the wine steward delivered Brett's favorite bottle of white wine and poured the wine into each glass.

"I'm sorry Dirk, how thoughtless of me. Would you have preferred something other than wine?"

Dirk smiled, "This is fine. It's a refreshing change from my usual glass of ice tea."

"Good! I'm so used to dining alone on Friday night I forgot my manners," Brett said. "After dinner we'll have a drink in the lounge and say hello to some of my friends. Then if you feel up to it, I'd like to take you to a few of my favorite night spots. I'm not into the hard stuff so I usually coast with club soda and twist of lemon for the rest of the evening. Most of the bartenders know my little secret. I'm always on the lookout for business and I try to keep on my toes. I prefer to do my drinking in private where I don't have to worry about letting something slip. This club is the gossip center of Westhampton. Every little tidbit of gossip can become public knowledge before the weekend is over.

Tonight I want you to play a little game with me," Brett said. "You are to tell everyone that you are thinking of joining my firm to head up the new Harcourt Yacht Division. We are about to embark on a new venture to sell new and previously owned yachts. You have spent several weeks putting the project together and are presently looking for the ideal location to open an office. If you are asked about your business background, you will tell them that you were in the Industrial Security business and sold your interest to develop this new venture. Do you think you can handle that?"

"No problem. Look, Brett, I appreciate what you're doing for me," Dirk said. "I'll play along with the game. It will be fun to play Cinderella for the weekend."

"How old are you, Brett?"

"I'll be twenty-eight next month."

"And you are married?"

Brett smiled, "I'm not married, engaged, or into any serious relationships at present.

"Now it's your turn. I'd like to know more about the real Dirk Devlin. But before you start, there's something that's been bothering me about the night you pulled me over for speeding.

"What made you change your mind about giving me that speeding ticket? From that look on your face, I was sure you were going to lower the boom on me."

Dirk grinned, "You're right. I was going to sock it to you. I figured you for another hotshot yuppie showing off in your new car. Yet you were completely honest with me. You admitted you were speeding and didn't try to wheedle your way out of a ticket. You could have thrown your weight around, yet you didn't, you acted like a decent guy and I couldn't be angry at you.

"I must confess I was curious about you and couldn't resist your invitation to drop by your marina. It wasn't only because of the PBA check; you aroused my curiosity, and frankly, I wanted to see how a rich guy like you acted on your home turf. Your secretary said that you were a super boss and as down to earth as they come. That kind of endorsement speaks volumes about a person. The other night was not the first time I overreacted to a traffic violation. It's been happening too often. The result of which has gotten me in trouble with my superiors. The warning signs were there and I have to make some serious changes in my life before I reach the point of no return.

"Look, Brett, I am thirty years old, and I am locked into a job that I despise. I'm to the point where I hate going to work every day. Unfortunately, I do not see the situation getting better anytime soon. I have wracked my brains trying to find a new career that would allow me to earn the same salary I am making now with the department. It didn't take me long to learn that very few companies are willing to start me off at the salary I am presently earning. I just cannot take that much of a cut in my income. My only hope now is to find a part time job that will supplement my income and allow me to hold down a new job. I've got to find something soon before this job puts me into an early grave.

"My wife Linda doesn't understand why I'm so frustrated. She has convinced herself that the police department is the only place for me. After all, it's a steady job with a regular paycheck coming in every month. It's true that it's a recession-proof career with nice retirement pension after twenty-five years of service. Linda, bless her heart, is a simple down to earth homemaker who is content with her life as it is and does not want to change. She is happy being a homemaker and visiting her family every other weekend. That's all she wants out of life.

"I stopped playing the game at work a couple of weeks ago and screwed up my promotion, badly. I arrested a local bigwig for DUI and all hell broke loose. My punishment for that was the graveyard shift until I learn the politics of the job.

"Here I was, being penalized for enforcing the law. I've stopped this same driver many times before for the same offense. The guy is going to kill someone one day. Therefore, I ran him in and I'm the one who suffered. I remember my psychology professor telling us that a man comes to a point in his life when he must make a tough decision. Either accept your life the way it is, and try make the best of it, or have the courage to change your life for the better. I made that decision the first week I was passed over. The graveyard shift gives me a lot of time to think. That's what I can expect as long as I stay on the police force. I'm making a serious effort to find another career. At this point I don't care what my wife thinks.

"It was stupid of me to be angry at you because of a new car," Dirk continued. "If I want a luxury car like yours, nice clothes and the finer things in life, then I must be willing to work for them. It's ironic in a way, if I hadn't been passed over, I would never have met you, or have made up my mind to change my life around. I never thought I would be having dinner in a fine restaurant with a successful guy like you. Life is full of surprises."

"I'm sorry your life turned out so badly," Brett said. "At least you realize that your productive years are still ahead of you. Statistics tell us that a man should be in his chosen career by the age of thirty-five, so you have five years to build a new career. All you really need is to believe in yourself and to have the drive to make it happen. With those two characteristics, anything is possible.

"Tell me about your early years," Brett requested. "Unless you feel uncomfortable sharing your life with a stranger?"

"Oddly enough, I feel comfortable talking to you even though I've only known you for a short time. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger." Dirk told Brett of his early childhood and of the relationship with his family. "I was born into a devout Catholic family. My older brother is a Franciscan brother and my older sister is a nun. You cannot get more religious than that. My other brother became an undertaker and my younger sister, a nurse. We still are close as a family and see each other as often as our schedules allow. I graduated from Gannon University, a small Catholic college in Erie, Pennsylvania. I met my wife in Erie and we were married during my senior year in college. Actually, my family forced me to marry Linda after we learned she was pregnant. Of course, I wanted her to have an abortion, or give the child up for adoption. I wasn't ready for marriage then, because I wanted to continue on with my MBA after I received my degree in Marketing. You could not believe how ugly Linda and her family were over that. They kept the pressure on me until I had no choice but to marry her. What else could I do with both families on my back?

"My dad was a career police officer and was able to use his influence to land me a slot in the Suffolk County Police Department after I graduated from college. My parents were the best you could ever hope for. They both migrated from Canada shortly after they married. We children were first generation Americans. My mom told me that I inherited my brains and good looks from her side of the family, and my sense of humor and brawn from my dad's side. I loved my dad and always enjoyed being in his company. The ladies always made a fuss over him because of his good looks. He enjoyed the compliments all right, but was in love with my mother and he never strayed.

"My dad passed away five years ago and my mom died of cancer last year. I still miss my parents a lot. I've always regretted losing them so early in life." Dirk looked around the room and said, "I think I should continue this some other time, before they throw us out. We are the last people in the dining room."

Brett smiled, "Remember where you left off. Your family sounds wonderful; I always regretted not having any brothers or sisters."

Many of the club members had gathered in the cocktail lounge as Brett had predicted, having one for the road. "Have your bartender serve me your specialty as well," Dirk said.

Brett introduced Dirk to his friends. They were invited to two dinner parties the following weekend. Brett accepted for both of them and they left for Christy's, the next stop on their rounds of the after dinner clubs. The crowd at Christy's did not appeal to Brett. After a half hour of wandering around they left. The Happy Parrot was their next stop. This was one of Brett's favorite hangouts. This club could be categorized as a very chic and expensive watering hole. The view of the Bay through the wall of windows was spectacular. A jazz trio was playing in the dining room as they arrived, and were ushered to the lounge. It was obvious that this was one of the 'in' places. You could tell that by the way the clientele were dressed.

Brett and Dirk were standing next to the bar when a young man at one of the large tables waved Brett over. This group was formally dressed in evening clothes. Brett excused himself and went over to the table to say hello. He was back a few minutes later. "We've been invited to join my friends for drinks after George Shearing has finished this set. You'll like them; these are some of the people I was hoping to meet at Christy's. Let's hit the restrooms before the break," Brett said, "Do you have five dollars to tip the porter? The smallest I have is a twenty."

Dirk smiled, "No problem I have it covered. At these prices I think I'll learn to develop a strong bladder."

Brett laughed, "If you come in alone the next time only tip him a buck."

When they returned to the table, the waiter had added two chairs. Brett introduced Dirk to the group. By the time they left, they had been invited to a dinner party the next evening at Chet Stewart's and lunch at Jay Randall's.

Brett said, "Dirk has a slight problem. He'll need a tuxedo for tomorrow evening."

Ellie Stewart said, "Don't worry about that, darling, I'll find him a tux and have it delivered to your club tomorrow afternoon. Dirk, be a good boy and write down your measurements for me."

Dirk wrote down his measurements and gave them to Ellie. "Thank you," Dirk said. "You're every bit the gracious lady Brett said you were."

"Thank you sweetie for that well deserved compliment," Ellie said. "My husband just doesn't appreciate a wonderful wife like me."

Everyone chuckled and gathered their things to leave. "We're heading your way, Brett," Jay said, "Can we give you a lift to the Yacht Club?"

"You're a friend indeed," Brett said, "We accept your kind offer."

As they were boarding the Brett Jr., Dirk said, "This has been a wonderful evening. Thank you for everything. If you don't mind, I'm heading straight for the sack; I can't keep my eyes open."

"I plan to do the same. I had no idea how late it was. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow so get a good night's sleep. Try to be up by nine, we have some shopping to do in the morning as well."

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To be continued...

Posted: 05/04/12