Читать книгу This Little Piggy - M.G. Crisci - Страница 12

There is quite a substantial between the rich and super-rich.

There were estates in King Point, the exclusive waterfront enclave where cottages started at $5 million, and then there was Franklin Ryman’s place.

It had twenty-three rooms with eight baths, furnished like Trump Tower, right on Long Island Sound with a private beach, cabana, dock, tennis courts, spectacular rose garden, and a garage full of antique cars. The barbecue area comfortably sat five hundred, and the caretaker’s cottage was larger than most other homes on the block.

Franklin’s pride and joy was the state-of-the-art kennel where he kept his two 150-pound Newfoundlands, Buzz and Winfred. The “boys” had a grooming salon, dining area, and bathing room. Victor figured the circular driveway and entrance hall were larger than the footprint of their entire home in Greenwich.

“Franklin,” wondered Sandra, once she and Victor had made themselves comfortable. “With all of this, why bother to work?”

Franklin’s uncanny sense of purposeful theater went on display. He knew Sandra had to come along willingly. “The trappings are all bullshit, just a façade. I used to think the toys helped define me, but they don’t. Besides, what the hell am I doing on the edge of Long Island? I’m a city boy. “ve got to get back into the middle of the action. I need the stimulation, the challenge; otherwise, my brain will turn to mush.”

Sandra took the bait. Franklin not only sounded credible but also a bit remorseful, almost embarrassed by the display of opulence that surrounded him. As Victor and Sandra were to learn, nothing was ever quite as it appeared with Franklin. In reality, he was damn close to broke, by Franklin’s standards. Down to his last $20 million, most of which was tied up in a glitzy Aspen, Colorado, sports club he owned and couldn’t sell. Because of his cash crunch and enormous overheads, the house was being discretely offered for sale through Sotheby’s. So were the furniture, the cars, and even Buzz and Wilfredthe dogs would wind up?

The first course arrived, served by a friendly middle-aged lady in a casual uniform. “My goodness, this soup is fabulous,” said Sandra.

“Glad you like it. It’s a fresh zucchini soup. Family recipe with vegetables from the garden of Ryman,” smiled Franklin. He noticed Victor quizzically staring at the white mound floating in the middle of the soup. “Victor, trust me, the crème Fraiche doesn’t bite! Just place a bit on the spoon when you scoop the soup. The tastes complement each other perfectly, as does the sensation of hot and cold.” Franklin’s description relieved Sandra. She thought the white substance might have been curdled milk.

Subsequent courses were more recognizable. Dining with Franklin was like eating at an intimate five-star restaurant with none of the pomposity. The baby dandelion and radicchio, the braised trout in rice parchment paper, even the crepes with beluga caviar were a feast for the eyes and the stomach. Three hours later, the meal ending, Franklin decided to suck up big time with a final toast.

“Victor and Sandra, how about a port for the road. I believe there’s a bit of Fonseca ’49 left in my cellar. Give me a few minutes,” Victor nodded. Sandra wondered. Neither had ever tasted port wine. Franklin disappeared into his wine cellar and returned with a dark, dusty bottle.

“Ta-da,” said Franklin, bowing and making like a sommelier with a treasure. “Madame, a sweet for the sweet.” He carefully removed the cork and poured the deep blue-brown liquid through a cheesecloth filter into a crystal decanter and ultimately into three antique Baccarat glasses.

Sandra sipped. “Franklin, the port is delicious, and the crystal glasses are fabulous.”

“The glasses are pretty,” said Franklin toasting Sandra, “but you, my dear, are exquisite.”

~

You could hear a pin drop in the car on the ride back. Sandra knew something was bothering Victor. “Victor, why so quiet? It was a wonderful evening, and Franklin was such a gracious host.”

“Gracious host! My future partner was hitting on my wife, right before my eyes.” Victor began to mimic Franklin. “The glasses are beautiful, but you, my dear, are exquisite…Christ, I thought I was watching a Spencer Tracy-Katherine Hepburn movie.”

Sandra reached over and gave Victor a tender kiss on the cheek. “Baby, you’re the love of my life. Always will be.”

~

Franklin was growing impatient. It was closing time. “Victor,” said Franklin a few days later, “let’s cut to the chase. You’re the man plus, you’ve got one classy partner.”

“Thanks,” said Victor. We’ve been together for a long time. Met her at seventeen at a college mixer, we married at twenty…”

Franklin didn’t give a shit. “Victor, you must know you’re my first choice, but I’ve got to close my offering. You do realize this is that once-in-a-lifetime guaranteed opportunity that will change your life forever?”

Victor was starting to get the hang of the game. There was always more. He decided to raise the stakes using the Sandra card. “Franklin, everything sounds great, but Sandra’s reluctant. We’ve been living way over our heads for years, and she’s worried about taking too big a current cash flow hit for a promising future.”

How amusing, thought Franklin…the organizational virgin trying to best the master at poker. He decided to let Victor win this hand. “Ahhh, that’s an easy fix,” said Franklin. “We’ll bribe her! How about I give you a sign-on loan? Say $150,000 out of my pocket to cover your family’s incidental day-to-day expenses, take her to Grand Exuma, and bathe her in the sunshine. Allyn will draw up the agreement so that the loan is non-interest bearing, non-taxable, and to make it real easy, and you only have to repay me if and when you cash in some of the stock after it vests.”

Victor sensed another bluff might add to the pot. “Christ, that’s unbelievably generous of you. But it’s more than about money.”

“Awww, bullshit, it’s always about money! Let’s make it $250,000. That should also pay a few country club bills.”

“I’m leaning,” replied Victor. “I’ll outline the whole deal tonight to Sandra.”

“Leaning,” growled Franklin, “What the fuck does that mean? Maybe I’ve got the wrong guy. This deal is an opportunity for somebody with big balls. It isn’t for the faint of heart. I thought you were a savvy New York street kid?”

Franklin had touched Victor’s hot button. “I’m in. I’m in. Let me break it to Sandra in my way. And no public announcement until we clear the Securities and Exchange Commission.

“Trust me, you’ve made the right decision,” said Franklin.