The Deal (20 page)

“I’ll take that into consideration,” I responded.

As I began to make my way toward the exit, I couldn’t resist the urge to possibly get some answers. I knew that it wasn’t the safest thing to do, but because of the coke I could almost literally feel my balls growing in my pants. Nothing stupid I told myself, just enough to help me decipher who this guy was. Besides, the place was packed. What was the worst that could happen? Before leaving Bungalow 8, I sharply came up behind the guy.

“Do I know you?” I asked quietly into his ear.

The guy seemed startled. He turned around.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, do I know you? Because you’ve been staring at me as if we know each other.”

“I apologize, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So you haven’t been looking in my direction?”

There it was. The moment of truth. The perfect question.

“I may have, but I assure you it was inadvertent. I’m sorry if somehow I made you uncomfortable.”

Countered with the perfect answer. Fuck. I was right back where I started. Informationless. By this time the whole table had caught on to our conversation. I wanted to bring up Pangaea, but decided against causing even more of a scene and perhaps further endangering myself. I backed off.

“You all have a good night.”

I stepped into my apartment and closed the door behind me. The front foyer was dimly lit. I could hear Neo’s little feet trucking my way down the wooden hallway floor. When he reached me, he didn’t wait for me to get on the ground for our usual greeting. Instead he jumped straight into my arms. He licked my face furiously, and he was shaking.

My eyes spread open as if being propped with toothpicks. This was our sanctuary, mine and Neo’s, and something had spooked him. I kissed his nose and put him back on the floor. Without pulling my vision from the foyer, I quietly reached into a nearby closet and grabbed from my golf bag what turned out to be my five iron. I began to make my way through the apartment. All I could hear were the sounds of the city beyond the walls. The weather was a bit glum, so Manhattan’s evening sparkle was muffled beyond the windows.

The kitchen was clear. I grabbed a handful of Neo’s treats then closed them along with my little pal into the guest bathroom, also clear, to keep him out of possible harm’s way. I continued on through the apartment. The dining room was untouched, as was
my study, so I kept going. The guest bedroom checked out too. It wasn’t until I reached my own bedroom that I clearly understood someone had been in my place.

The TV, slightly louder than if it had been on mute, was tuned to NBC and showing Saturday Night Live. A few drawers were opened, as was my closet. Golf club cocked, I entered my bathroom to see my Jacuzzi had been recently used. But no one was in sight. The walk-in closet was intruder free as well. I looked through the glass doors onto the terrace. Not a soul. Now I was confused, yet relieved at the same time.

I returned to the front hallway and opened up the guest bathroom door. Neo was finished with his treats and just lying on the floor waiting. Upon seeing me he began to wriggle with excitement all over again.

“All right, pal,” I said as I lifted him up.

We headed back to my bedroom. I was nervous, but calling the cops was out of the question. Thankfully, whoever had been there was gone. But, I thought, how the hell could they have gotten past the doorman in the first place? And for what—to take a fucking bath? I playfully tossed Neo onto the bed and buried him under the covers. He loved this game. He loved having to find his way out as I pretended to impede his exit path. After about ten more minutes I kicked off my shoes and turned the TV to CNN. I upped the volume, grabbed the cordless, and headed over to the terrace doors. Neo jumped off the bed and followed me.

Once outside I walked directly to the patio’s lip and put my arms on the banister. My eyes never strayed from the city lights, until:

“Jonah.”

“Fuck!” I jumped.

“That is just the cutest little dog.”

It was Angie. She was in a chair pulled back toward the building, out of sight if looking onto the terrace from my bedroom.

“You scared the—what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Your doorman let me up. I said I was your cousin. He just smirked and let me in. Guess he’s been through this routine before.”

I said nothing. I just looked around.

“Look, I’m sorry for barging in like this. But you wouldn’t return any of my calls. I didn’t know what to do.”

“What to do about what?”

“About last night. About making an ass out of myself like some silly little child. I was completely inappropriate, and I needed a chance to tell you that I was sorry. I haven’t had a real connection with anyone in a while and I went overboard.”

I focused on Angie. She was wearing one of my Zegna custom-fit button-down shirts, yet only two buttons were fastened. It was white, and I could see my initials embroidered in black on the left cuff. She wasn’t wearing anything else. A massaging flow of air brushed through the terrace, blowing the shirt almost completely up above her waist. She didn’t flinch. I could feel her excitement growing as I looked at the top of her thighs.

“You had every right to put me in my place last night. I deserved that.”

I could feel my eyes begin to squint with confusion. I was having trouble accepting that this girl found it appropriate to make herself at home in my apartment because she had been unable to reach me. At the same time my pulse was flat-out racing.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

Angie grabbed the cocktail she had fixed for herself from one of the small glass tables. She looked at the glass playfully.

“Only number two.”

She downed a long healthy sip then raised the lit joint in her other hand, which had come from my ashtray, to her lips. She took a nice drag leaving her lipstick on the end of it.

“Can’t we just pick up where we left off in the Hamptons?”

I wanted to. But as hard as this was all making me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was fucked up. The timing of all of this was too perfect. The egg was still shrouded in mystery, yet all of a sudden here was this girl doing everything in her power to force her way into my life.

“Don’t you want to kiss me again?”

She was possibly trouble, by chance a connection I thought, but alerting her to my suspicion was the potential for making things worse. She was in my home. And perhaps with a simple phone call others would be too. I decided my best option was to go along with this all being just about the two of us. Nothing else. At least for now, at least until I could get rid of her for good.

“Don’t you want to feel my skin?”

I walked over to Angie. In my coked-up mind, which was wrapped in tequila, my goal was to keep myself secure and from triggering anything unexpected. She reached up and handed me the joint once I was facing her. Without another word I took a long draw as Angie unbuttoned my pants.

Chapter 22

Monday morning had arrived. Week two. As I strode up Park Avenue, the sky was so bright it felt as if hundreds of suns were scorching the earth. I stopped at my usual spot in front of Grand Central for a shoeshine.

Jimmy finished buffing my black Bruno Maglis and I headed into the terminal to take the route I walk when I need to use the bathroom. It was early afternoon in Moscow, so I decided to give Andreu an update. I dialed his cell number and hit “send.” It rang as I walked. After only a few rings, as I approached my destination, I lost the signal.

I entered my usual bathroom, one that’s out of the way and has a door so old it looks like a janitor’s closet. As always for this early in the morning it was empty. I rehit “send” and walked right up to my favorite urinal. I put my briefcase down and situated the phone between my ear and shoulder. No answer.

Just as I was about to leave a message, someone gripped the back of my head as if it were a football and slammed my forehead into the marble wall. I never heard them enter the bathroom. The phone went flying. As I did my best to maintain my balance I was swung around and punched square in the face. I could taste the blood running from my nose into my mouth.

“The egg,” the guy began, backing off. It was the guy who had been checking me out at Pangaea and Bungalow 8. “This same bathroom tomorrow morning. You show up without it and you’re finished.”

“I fucking knew it,” I seethed.

With the quickness of a cat the guy charged me, pulled out a gun, and put it to my temple.

“I mean it, pretty boy. You show up empty handed, I put a bullet in your brain. You fail to show up, I find you, put a bullet in your brain. Simple as that. Understood?”

I said nothing.

“Six
a.m.
,” he continued, then kneed me in the balls and high-stepped out of there. I took a couple of deep breaths, pulled myself and phone off the ground, turned on one of the faucets and cleaned myself up. I grabbed my briefcase and exited the bathroom.

I bought a large coffee at Starbucks, but before entering the Chrysler Center I decided to sit on one of the street benches along 43rd Street to gather my thoughts. The morning glare was gaining strength, and the number of people coming and going increased by the second. I touched my jaw. The pain had subsided considerably.

Soft punch I remember thinking to myself. Though the reality of being followed had come to an uncomfortable certainty, I was thankful to finally have something with which to work. And to tell you the truth, it was all quite a bit shocking. After all, we were talking about one of the most rare, valuable antiques imaginable. Yet here I was being threatened by some punk in a bathroom. Something didn’t feel right. It was all too unprofessional. Or was that the idea?

By seven thirty we were all in Tommy’s office forging ahead. Since I always keep new, unopened dress shirts and ties in my office in case of emergency—one of Pop’s moves—I appeared clean and fresh as if my morning encounter had never taken place. Jake had the floor.

“I got an e-mail from Jagger this morning. There was nothing but a number, one both insulting and revealing. I assume it was the premium he wants on a per-square-foot basis.”

“What’s the number?” Tommy asked.

“I can’t say. The lack of respect is too embarrassing. What I can tell you is that this number embodies both young Jonah’s as well as my own suspicions. There is no chance in hell this number came from the old guys. Which simply means Jagger couldn’t bring himself to tell them about the possibility of a deal once they returned from their golfing trip. My guess is that he and Leo came up with the figure after a few shots of moron juice.”

“How do you plan to proceed?” asked Perry.

“Simple. I’ll give them my number and one chance to get on board.”

“If they don’t?”

“Time being of the essence, I move on to Ray and Lawrence. They are who we need to be dealing with anyway. I imagine, at this rate, I will have heard back by the end of the day that my number is out of the question. Once this happens I approach the important duo in the family, get into some real numbers, and offer them a fair premium. By this time tomorrow morning, I will have acted appropriately in their eyes by approaching their sons first, and I’ll be well on my way to getting my inspection team in place by the end of the week. Cake.”

After a few more minutes of dialogue it was clear that Jake was dialed in and well on his way.

Perry went next.

“I’ll just cut to the chase. Jonah was with me Friday night and saw that James is going to make me work here. I don’t know, maybe he feels the board needs to see him break balls or something to earn their respect. I know how all you men can get. Anyway, I gave him a ballpark of what kind of number I’m playing with and told him to get the Board’s consensus. I can’t foresee any real stumbling blocks here. They need to sell. End of story.”

“How about your inspection team?” asked Tommy.

“In place and ready to go upon my direction.”

“And how about James?” asked Jake. “When are you supposed to hear from him?”

“Who the hell cares. Once I leave this office, I’m getting on the phone to begin riding him all day.”

“Isn’t he married?” joked Jake.

Perry sliced into him with unamused eyes.

“I plan on having a general understanding as to the comfort level of such a number by the end of the day, funnyman.”

“Can you be sure the board will respond to Auerbach’s inquiries so quickly?” continued Tommy.

“Not one hundred percent, but pretty close. I have done a serious job of outlining the timetable issue to James. He understands that things need to move unusually fast. Is he comfortable with that? I can’t be sure. What I can be sure of is the fact that he understands I’m not yet looking for a formal written response. All I need is a general feeling out of his board, something that could greatly affect his own personal bottom line.”

“Fair enough. Just be sure to—”

My cell phone rang breaking the meeting’s rhythm. I immediately silenced the phone then looked at the caller ID. Unavailable caller.

Tommy continued, “Just be sure to keep him on your good side. I know you two have been close for a long time, but this would be one tough road to walk without his help. You hear what I’m saying?”

“I do, captain,” Perry quipped. “Big business boards are made up of pompous assholes who usually only get where they’re going because someone’s leading them.”

“Cute. Jonah, you’re up.”

“I—”

My cell rang again. Unavailable caller.

“You need to get that?”

I hushed the phone.

“I don’t. Anyway, I have a—”

It rang for a third time.

“Fuck!”

Same unavailable caller, same noise suppression.

“Maybe you should—”

“Maybe nothing. I have a meeting with Jack Merrill from Gallo at nine. Until we speak I have nothing to report.”

“How about—”

“All facets of my inspection team are fully in place. I spent most of my weekend making sure of it.”

I glanced around, then looked at my watch.