The Stars Shine Down (14 page)

“Look what happened when I
did
slap one.” She snuggled up to him. “I met you.”

“I have to take a trip to L.A.,” Paul said. “I’d like you to come with me. Can you get away for a few days?”

“I’d love to, Paul, but it’s impossible. I schedule my days with a stopwatch.”

He sat up and looked down at her. “Maybe you’re doing too much, baby. Don’t ever get too busy for me.”

Lara smiled and began to stroke him. “Don’t worry about that. It will never happen.”

It had been there in front of her all the time, and she had not seen it. It was a huge waterfront property in the Wall
Street area, near the World Trade Center. And it was for sale. Lara had passed it a dozen times, but she looked at it now and saw what should have been there all along: In her mind, she could see the world’s tallest building. She knew what Howard was going to say:
“You’re getting in over your head, Lara. You can’t get involved with this.”
But she knew that nothing was going to stop her.

When she got to the office, she called a meeting of her staff.

“The Wall Street property on the waterfront,” Lara said. “We’re going to buy it. We’re going to put up the tallest skyscraper in the world.”

“Lara…”

“Before you say anything, Howard, let me point out a few things. The location is perfect. It’s in the heart of the business district. Tenants will be fighting to get office space there. And remember, it’s going to be the tallest skyscraper in the world. That’s a big sizzle. It’s going to be our flagship. We’ll call it Cameron Towers.”

“Where’s the money coming from?”

Lara handed him a piece of paper.

Keller was examining the figures. “You’re being optimistic.”

“I’m being realistic. We’re not talking about just any building. We’re talking about a jewel, Howard.”

He was thinking hard. “You’ll be stretching yourself thin.”

Lara smiled. “We’ve done that before, haven’t we?”

Keller said, thoughtfully, “The tallest skyscraper in the world…”

“That’s right. And the banks call us every day, throwing money at us. They’ll jump at this.”

“They probably will,” Keller said. He looked at Lara. “You really want this, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Keller sighed. He looked around at the group. “All right. The first step is to take an option on the property.”

Lara smiled. “I’ve already done that. And I have some other news for you. Steve Murchison was negotiating for that property.”

“I remember him. We took that hotel site away from him in Chicago.”

“I’m going to let it go this time, bitch, because I don’t think you know what the hell you’re doing. But in the future, stay out of my way—you could get hurt.”

“Right.” Murchison had become one of the most ruthless and successful real estate developers in New York. Keller said, “Lara, he’s bad news. He enjoys destroying people.”

“You worry too much.”

The financing for Cameron Towers went smoothly. Lara had been right. The bankers felt that there was a sizzle to the tallest skyscraper in the world. And the name of Cameron was an added cachet. They were eager to be associated with her.

Lara was more than a glamorous figure. She was a symbol to the women of the world, an icon.
If she can accomplish this, why not me?
A perfume was named after her. She was invited to all the important social events, and hostesses were eager to have her at their dinner parties. Her name on a building seemed to ensure success.

“We’re going to start our own construction company,” Lara decided one day. “We have the crews. We’ll rent them out to other builders.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Keller said.

“Let’s go for it. How soon are we going to break ground for Cameron Towers?”

“The deal’s in place. I would say three months from now.”

Lara sat back in her chair. “Can you imagine it, Howard? The tallest skyscraper in the world.”

He wondered what Freud would have made of that.

The ground-breaking ceremony for Cameron Towers had the atmosphere of a three-ring circus. America’s Princess, Lara Cameron, was the main attraction. The event had been heavily publicized in the newspapers and on television, and a crowd of more than two hundred people had gathered, waiting for Lara to arrive. When her white limousine pulled up to the building site, there was a roar from the crowd.

“There she is!”

As Lara stepped out of the car and moved toward the building site to greet the mayor, police and security guards held the crowd back. The people pushed forward, screaming and calling her name, and the photographers’ flashbulbs began popping.

In a special roped-off section were the bankers, heads of advertising agencies, company directors, contractors, project managers, community representatives, and architects. One hundred feet away, large bulldozers and backhoes were standing by, ready to go to work. Fifty trucks were lined up to cart the rubble away.

Lara was standing next to the mayor and the Manhattan borough president. It had started to drizzle. Jerry Townsend, head of public relations for Cameron Enterprises, hurried toward Lara with an umbrella. She smiled and waved him away.

The mayor spoke into the cameras. “Today is a great day for Manhattan. This ground-breaking ceremony at Cameron Towers marks the beginning of one of the largest real estate projects in Manhattan’s history. Six blocks of Manhattan real
estate will be converted into a modern community that will include apartment buildings, two shopping centers, a convention center, and the tallest skyscraper in the world.”

There was applause from the crowd.

“Wherever you look,” the mayor continued, “you can see Lara Cameron’s contribution written in concrete.” He pointed. “Uptown is the Cameron Center. And near it, Cameron Plaza and half a dozen housing projects. And across the country is the great Cameron Hotel chain.”

The mayor turned to Lara and smiled. “And she’s not only brainy, she’s beautiful.”

There was laughter and more applause.

“Lara Cameron, ladies and gentlemen.”

Lara looked into the television cameras and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor. I’m very pleased to have made some small contribution to this fabulous city of ours. My father always told me that the reason we were put on this earth was…” She hesitated. Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen a familiar figure in the crowd. Steve Murchison. She had seen his photograph in newspapers… What was he doing here? Lara went on… “was to leave it a better place than when we came into it. Well, I hope that in my own small way, I’ve been able to do that.”

There was more applause. Lara was handed a ceremonial hard hat and a chrome-plated shovel.

“Time to go to work, Miss Cameron.”

The flashbulbs began to pop again.

Lara pushed the shovel into the dirt and dug up the first bit of earth.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, refreshments were served, while the television cameras kept recording the event. When Lara looked around again, Murchison was nowhere in sight.

Thirty minutes later Lara Cameron was back in the limousine headed for the office. Jerry Townsend was seated next to her.

“I thought it went great,” he said. “Just great.”

“Not bad,” Lara grinned. “Thanks, Jerry.”

The executive suites of Cameron Enterprises occupied the entire fiftieth floor of Cameron Center.

Lara got off at the fiftieth floor, and by then the word had gotten around that she was arriving. The secretaries and staff were busily at work.

Lara turned to Jerry Townsend. “Come into my office.”

The office was an enormous corner suite overlooking the city.

Lara glanced at some papers on her desk and looked up at Jerry.

“How’s your father? Is he any better?”

What did she know about his father?

“He’s…he’s not well.”

“I know. He has Huntington’s chorea, hasn’t he, Jerry?”

“Yes.”

It was a terrible disease. It was progressive and degenerative, characterized by spasmodic involuntary movements of the face and extremities, accompanied by the loss of mental faculties.

“How do you know about my father?”

“I’m on the board at the hospital where he’s being treated. I heard some doctors discussing his case.”

Jerry said tightly, “It’s incurable.”

“Everything is incurable until they find the cure,” Lara said. “I did some checking. There’s a doctor in Switzerland who’s doing some advanced research on the disease. He’s willing to take on your father’s case. I’ll handle the expenses.”

Jerry stood there, stunned.

“Okay?”

He found it difficult to speak. “Okay.”
I don’t know her,
Jerry Townsend thought.
Nobody knows her.

History was being made, but Lara was too busy to notice. Ronald Reagan had been re-elected, and a man named Mikhail Gorbachev had succeeded Chernenko as leader of the USSR.

Lara built a low-income housing development in Detroit.

In 1986 Ivan Boesky had been fined a hundred million dollars in an insider trading scandal and sentenced to three years in prison.

Lara started development on condominiums in Queens. Investors were eager to be a part of the magic of her name. A group of German investment bankers flew to New York to meet with Lara. She arranged for the meeting immediately after their plane landed. They had protested, but Lara said, “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. It’s the only time I have. I’m leaving for Hong Kong.”

The Germans were served coffee. Lara had tea. One of the Germans complained about the taste of the coffee. “It’s a special brand made for me,” Lara explained. “The flavor will grow on you. Have another cup.”

By the end of the negotiations Lara had won all her points.

Life was a series of serendipities, except for one disturbing incident. Lara had had several run-ins with Steve Murchison over various properties, and she had always managed to outwit him.

“I think we should back off,” Keller warned.

“Let him back off.”

And one morning a beautiful package wrapped in rose paper arrived from Bendel’s. Kathy laid it on Lara’s desk.

“It’s awfully heavy,” Kathy said. “If it’s a hat, you’re in trouble.”

Curious, Lara unwrapped it and opened the lid. The box was packed with dirt. A printed card inside read:
“The Frank E. Campbell Funeral Chapel.”

The building projects were all going well. When Lara read about a proposed inner-city playground that was stymied because of bureaucratic red tape, she stepped in, had her company build it, and donated it to the city. The publicity she received on it was enormous. One headline read:
LARA CAMERON STANDS FOR “CAN DO.”

She was seeing Paul once or twice a week, and she talked to him every day.

Lara bought a house in Southampton and lived in a fantasy world of expensive jewels and furs and limousines. Her closets were filled with beautiful designer clothes. “
I need some clothes for school.” “Weel, I’m nae made of money. Get yourself something frae the Salvation Army Citadel.”

And Lara would order another outfit.

Her employees were her family. She worried about them and was generous with them. They were all she had. She remembered their birthdays and anniversaries. She helped get their children into good schools and set up scholarship funds for them. When they tried to thank her, Lara was embarrassed. It was difficult for her to express her emotions. Her father had ridiculed her when she had tried. Lara had built a protective wall around herself.
No one is ever going to hurt me again,
she vowed.
No one.

“
I
’m leaving for London in the morning, Howard.”

“What’s up?” Keller asked.

“Lord Macintosh has invited me to come over and take a look at a property he’s interested in. He wants to go into partnership.”

Brian Macintosh was one of the wealthiest real estate developers in England.

“What time do we leave?” Keller asked.

“I’ve decided to go alone.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to keep an eye on things here.”

He nodded. “Right. I’ll do that.”

“I know you will. I can always count on you.”

The trip to London was uneventful. The private 727 she had purchased took off in the morning and landed at the
Magec Terminal at Luton Airport outside London. She had no idea her life was about to change.

When Lara arrived at the lobby of Claridges, Ronald Jones, the manager, was there to greet her. “It’s a pleasure to have you back, Miss Cameron. I’ll show you to your suite. By the way, we have some messages for you.” There were more than two dozen.

The suite was lovely. There were flowers from Brian MacIntosh and from Paul Martin, and champagne and hors d’oeuvres from the management. The phone began to ring the minute Lara walked in. The calls were from all over the United States.

“The architect wants to make some changes in the plans. It will cost a fortune…”

“There’s a holdup on the cement delivery…”

“The First National Savings and Loan wants in on our next deal…“

“The mayor wants to know if you can be in L.A. for the opening. He’d like to plan a big ceremony…”

“The toilets haven’t arrived…”

“Bad weather is holding us up. We’re falling behind schedule…”

Each problem required a decision, and when Lara finally finished with her calls, she was exhausted. She had dinner in her room alone and sat looking out the window, at the Rolls-Royces and Bentleys pulling up to the Brook Street entrance, and a feeling of elation swept over her.
The little girl from Glace Bay has come a long way, Daddy.

The following morning Lara went with Brian Macintosh to look at the proposed site. It was enormous—two miles of riverside frontage filled with old run-down buildings and storage sheds.

“The British government will give us a lot of tax relief on
this,” Brian Macintosh explained, “because we’re going to rehabilitate this whole section of the city.”

“I’d like to think about it,” Lara said. She had already made up her mind.

“By the way, I have tickets to a concert tonight,” Brian Macintosh told her. “My wife has a club meeting. Do you like classical music?”

Lara had no interest in classical music. “Yes.”

“Philip Adler is playing Rachmaninoff.” He looked at Lara as though expecting her to say something. She had never heard of Philip Adler.

“It sounds wonderful,” Lara said.

“Good. We’ll have supper afterward at Scotts. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Why did I say I liked classical music?
Lara wondered. It was going to be a boring evening. She would have preferred to take a hot bath and go to sleep.
Oh, well, one more evening won’t hurt me. I’ll fly back to New York in the morning.

The Festival Hall was crowded with music aficionados. The men wore dinner jackets and the women were dressed in beautiful evening gowns. It was a gala evening, and there was a feeling of excited expectation in the large hall.

Brian Macintosh purchased two programs from the usher, and they were seated. He handed Lara a program. She barely glanced at it. The London Philharmonic Orchestra…Philip Adler playing Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, Opus 30.

I’ve got to call Howard and remind him about the revised estimates on the Fifth Avenue site.

The conductor appeared onstage, and the audience applauded. Lara paid no attention.
The contractor in Boston is moving too slowly. He needs a carrot. I’ll tell Howard to offer him a bonus.

There was another loud round of applause from the audience. A man was taking his place at the piano at center stage. The conductor gave a downbeat, and the music began.

Philip Adler’s fingers flashed across the keys.

A woman seated behind Lara said with a loud Texas accent, “Isn’t he fantastic? I
told
you, Agnes!”

Lara tried to concentrate again.
The London deal is out. It’s the wrong neighborhood,
Lara thought.
People aren’t going to want to live there. Location. Location. Location.
She thought about a project that had been brought to her, near Columbus Circle.
Now that one could work.

The woman behind Lara said, loudly, “His expression…he’s fabulous! He’s one of the most…”

Lara tried to tune her out.

The cost of an office building there would be approximately four hundred dollars per rentable square foot. If I can bring in the construction cost at one hundred fifty million, the land costs at one hundred twenty-five million, the soft costs…

“My God!” the woman behind Lara exclaimed.

Lara was startled out of her reverie.

“He’s so brilliant!”

There was a drumroll from the orchestra, and Philip Adler played four bars alone, and the orchestra began to play faster and faster. The drums began to beat…

The woman could not contain herself. “Listen to that! The music is going from
piu vivo
to
piu mosso.
Have you ever heard anything so exciting?”

Lara gritted her teeth.

The minimum break-even should work out all right,
she thought.
The cost of the rentable square feet would be three hundred fifty million, the interest at ten percent would be thirty-five million, plus ten million in operating expenses…

The tempo of the music was increasing, reverberating through the hall. The music came to a sudden climax and
stopped, and the audience was on its feet, cheering. There were calls of “bravo!” The pianist had risen and was taking bows.

Lara did not even bother to look up.
Taxes would be about six, free rent concessions would come to two. We’re talking about fifty-eight million.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” Brian Macintosh said.

“Yes.” Lara was annoyed at having her thoughts interrupted again.

“Let’s go backstage. Philip is a friend of mine.”

“I really don’t…”

He took Lara’s hand, and they were moving toward an exit.

“I’m glad I’ll have a chance to introduce you to him,” Brian Macintosh said.

It’s six o’clock in New York,
Lara thought.
I’ll be able to call Howard and tell him to start negotiations.

“He’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience, isn’t he?”

Once is enough for me,
Lara thought. “Yes.”

They had reached the outside artists’ entrance. There was a large crowd waiting. Brian Macintosh knocked on the door. A doorman opened it.

“Yes, sir?”

“Lord Macintosh to see Mr. Adler.”

“Right, my lord. Come in, please.” He opened the door wide enough to let Brian Macintosh and Lara enter, then closed it against the crowd.

“What do all these people want?” Lara asked.

He looked at her in surprise. “They’re here to see Philip.”

She wondered why.

The doorman said, “Go right into the greenroom, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Five minutes,
Lara thought,
and I’ll say I have to leave.

The greenroom was noisy and already full. People were crowded around a figure Lara could not see. The crowd shifted, and for an instant he was clearly visible. Lara froze, and for a moment she felt her heart stop. The vague, evanescent image that had been at the back of her mind all those years had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. Lochinvar, the vision in her fantasies, had come to life! The man at the center of the crowd was tall and blond, with delicate, sensitive features. He was wearing white tie and tails, and a feeling of deja vu swept over Lara:
She was standing at the kitchen sink in the boardinghouse, and the handsome young man in white tie and tails came up behind her and whispered, ”Can I help you?”

Brian Macintosh was watching Lara, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“I…I’m fine.” She was finding it difficult to breathe. Philip Adler was moving toward them, smiling, and it was the same warm smile Lara had imagined. He held out his hand. “Brian, how good of you to come.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Macintosh said. “You were simply marvelous.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, Philip, I would like you to meet Lara Cameron.”

Lara was looking into his eyes, and the words came out unbidden. “Do you dry?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Lara turned red. “Nothing. I…” She was suddenly tongue-tied.

People were crowding around Philip Adler, heaping praise on him.

“You’ve never played better…”

“I think Rachmaninoff was with you tonight…”

The praise went on and on. The women in the room were crowding around him, touching and pulling at him. Lara stood
there watching, mesmerized. Her childhood dream had come true. Her fantasy had become flesh and blood.

“Are you ready to go?” Brian Macintosh asked Lara.

No.
She wanted nothing more than to stay. She wanted to talk to the vision again, to touch him, to make sure he was real. “I’m ready,” Lara said reluctantly.

The following morning Lara was on her way back to New York. She wondered whether she would ever see Philip Adler again.

She was unable to get him out of her mind. She tried to tell herself that it was ridiculous, that she was trying to relive a childhood dream, but it was no use. She kept seeing his face, hearing his voice.
I must see him again,
Lara thought.

Early the next morning Paul Martin telephoned.

“Hi, baby. I missed you. How was London?”

“Fine,” Lara said carefully. “Just fine.”

When they had finished talking, Lara sat at her desk thinking about Philip Adler.

“They’re waiting for you in the conference room, Miss Cameron.”

“I’m coming.”

“We lost the Queens deal,” Keller said.

“Why? I thought it was all set.”

“So did I, but the community board refuses to support the zoning change.”

Lara looked around at the Executive Committee assembled in the room. There were architects, lawyers, publicity men, and construction engineers.

Lara said, “I don’t understand. Those tenants have an average income of nine thousand dollars a year, and they’re paying less than two hundred dollars a month in rent. We’re going to rehabilitate the apartments for them, at no increase
in rent, and we’re going to provide new apartments for some of the other residents in the neighborhood. We’re giving them Christmas in July and they turned you down? What’s the problem?”

“It’s not the board so much. It’s their chairman. A lady named Edith Benson.”

“Set up another meeting with her. I’ll go there myself.”

Lara took her chief construction supervisor, Bill Whitman, to the meeting.

Lara said, “Frankly, I was stunned when I heard that your board turned us down. We’re going to put up over a hundred million dollars to improve this neighborhood, and yet you refuse to…”

Edith Benson cut her short. “Let’s be honest, Miss Cameron. You’re not putting up the money to improve the neighborhood. You’re putting up the money so Cameron Enterprises can make more money.”

“Of course, we expect to make money,” Lara said. “But the only way we can do that is to help you people. We’re going to make the living conditions in your area better, and…”

“Sorry. I don’t agree. Right now, we’re a quiet little neighborhood. If we let you in, we’re going to become a higherdensity area—more traffic, more automobiles, more pollution. We don’t want any of that.”

“Neither do I,” Lara said. “We don’t intend to put up dingbats that…”

“Dingbats?”

“Yes, those ugly, stripped-down, three-story stucco boxes. We’re interested in designs that won’t increase the noise level or reduce the light or change the feel of the neighborhood. We’re not interested in hot dog, show-off architecture. I’ve already hired Stanton Fielding, the top architect in the country,
to design this project, and Andrew Burton from Washington to do the landscaping.”

Edith Benson shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s no use. I don’t think there’s anything more to discuss.” She started to rise.

I can’t lose this,
Lara thought desperately.
Can’t they see it’s for the good of their neighborhood? I’m trying to do something for them and they won’t let me.
And suddenly she had a wild idea.

“Wait a minute,” Lara said. “I understand that the other members of the board are willing to make the deal but you are the one blocking it.”

“That’s correct.”

Lara took a deep breath. “There
is
something to discuss.” She hesitated. “It’s very personal.” She was fidgeting now. “You say I’m not worried about pollution and what happens to the environment in this neighborhood if we move in? I’m going to tell you something that I hope you will keep in confidence. I have a ten-year-old daughter that I’m crazy about, and she’s going to live in the new building with her father. He has custody of her.”

Edith Benson was looking at her in surprise. “I…I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

“No one does,” Lara said quietly. “I’ve never been married. That’s why I’m asking you to keep this confidential. If it gets out, it could be very damaging to me. I’m sure you understand that.”

“I do understand.”

“I love my daughter very much, and I assure you that I would never do anything in the world that would hurt her. I intend to do everything I can to make this project wonderful for all the people who live here. And she’ll be one of them.”

There was a sympathetic silence. “I must say, this…this puts quite a different complexion on things, Miss Cameron. I’d like to have some time to think about it.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
If I did have a daughter,
Lara thought,
it would be safe for her to live here.

Three weeks later Lara got the approval from the City Planning Commission to go ahead with the project.