Trouble finding Blondie (11 page)

“Come on you two, let’s send them off.”

“Hell no. You go do the lovely wife and kid waving duty.”

“I’m nobody’s wife, Pascal, and when I get back, you better be in a pleasant mood so I don’t have to kick your ass,” Simona was pointing her finger and gesturing with her foot. Hervé was laughing, and Pascal was grimacing back.

“How much can he take?”

“Are you ever on ‘let me kiss your ass a little’ channel?” Simona was ignoring Philippe’s smirk, fixing his collard.

“Never. And by the way, I let him use my clubs. That should put us even after being busted in on last night.”

“You are hopeless.” Simona kissed Philippe first, then walked over to Andre. Andre picked Francois up, making funny noises until he started laughing. Then he handed him back, kissed him, and looked at Simona.

“Is that a ‘Honey, we need to talk look’?” That took the wind out of his sails, and he reconsidered his answer.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m scared? Ok, I’m scared.”

Simona didn’t expect that, and her surprised expression was authentic.

“Scared? Of what? Philippe?”

“No. Of losing you again, or having to wonder if this was just a teaser and you will tell me when the weekend is over, let’s figure out how you can have visitations…”

“Oh my God. Are you serious? And you came up with this theory because you saw me having wine with Philippe?”

“No. Because I used to be the guy you shared your worries with.”

They were out of time. Everybody was in the car. Simona wished he would stay home, and they could talk it out. Instead, she was waving bye-bye with Francois to two Range Rovers, full of precious clubs and cargo.

6

"ARROGANT RICH AND SASSY RED."

“PHILIPPE, CONSIDERING YOU have the advantage of knowing the field, I can play some distraction strategies on you, right?”

“Well, considering that you are playing with better clubs, we should be even-steven.”

“You have top of the line Mizuno, and I’m playing with unfamiliar clubs. No advantage.”

“What was it you said in the kitchen? Bring it?”

“Are you saying I can’t ask you anything?”

“We both know WHAT, or should I say WHOM the questionnaire is going to be about.”

“Fair enough. How did you two meet?”

“Well, I’m not really sure if you have some strategy here, asking us both the same questions and
 
then comparing notes, but you should know her. She is a straight shooter. Why not ask her directly?”

“We didn’t get to it yet, and I’m asking you...”

“Alright, I guess we do have a few hours to kill. Let’s do it. I don’t want to hear your sorry ass making excuses for your bad score because I was distracting you.”

“Fair enough. Deal. Shoot. Wow. Nice drive.”

Philippe was happy with his drive. He was very relaxed, having a great morning, but still a little hesitant about how far he should be going with this dude. He decided to go with the flow and feel him out as they went.

“We met in London. She was coming over from New York to meet the publishers in London, and I flew in from Paris.”

“Really, she already got that good of a deal from New York?”

“No, this was more of a family, friends, favors kind of a deal. Are you familiar with the Rothschild family?”

“Who isn’t in the finance business?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that’s your forte.”

“Are you part of the French Rothschilds?”

“Not by blood line, but Bouchards and Rothchilds are mingled by a bunch of marriages. It was mostly a growing up together as friends and royalty type of thing. You know like summers in the Hamptons, Tuscany, Provence; opera and ball season in London; spring musical festivals in Paris. You get the picture.”

“A truly underprivileged upbringing.” Andre could never hide his sarcasm for too long.
 

“Well, I guess you see the same brats around growing up, and assholes later on,” Philippe smiled at the memory of all the good times growing up.

“Any true friendships?”

“Yes, a few. Mostly blood, cousins and the rest of the circle. Interestingly though, when it comes to money, you trust the Jews.”

“Really? I don’t have that experience.”

“Because you are not part of the circle, my friend. Circle of trust only.”

“Got it. So what does a Rothschild have to do with Simona?”

“Apparently one of the New York branch of the family… well, let’s put it this way; the grumpiest of them all fell in love with our Simona.”

“What? How did she get to him? I mean, how did he get to her?”

“Her cousin was his personal assistant.”

“Oh, I remember. His name is Ales, right?”

“Yes, very good. Have you met him?”

“Just heard of him.”

“Ok, where was I? Rothschild gets her into Simon & Schuster and Macmillan. Are you familiar with those?”

“Yeah, yeah, major publishing houses.”

“Hm, impressive for a finance guy.”

“Used to be the major six until Random House swallowed Penguin. Now they are ‘The Sister Five’?”

“Very well then, impressive. Well, long story short, he pushed the right buttons. As a brilliant Jewish business guy, he had them go into a bidding war.”

“On what grounds? He became her agent?”

“Hell no, totally under the table. Out of sight, out of light.’

“Is that still possible in today’s world?”

“Well, the guy is old fashioned. Nobody was going to fuck with him, especially when he announced a trip to London and called in all his favors.”

“Holy crap. What did he get out of it?”

“I guess an adrenaline rush through his thickening cold old blood. Possibly an erection, too.”

“Seems you don’t like this guy at all.”

“I hated him as a kid. He was always the weird, grumpy one, always getting us in trouble. Asshole.”

“So, she didn’t sign any deal and flew with him to London? Wait, what month was this?”

“She was four months pregnant, it had to be July. Why?”

“She said she finally had an offer and got a check in June...”

“That’s true. She got her check for her first book. It was going to second print a few weeks later. They knew they had a potential hit on their hands, and they were going to buy the other two without even reading the manuscripts.”

“So, which one of the two did she publish the first one with?”

“That’s the beauty of it, neither! In the end it was Harlequin.”

“Are you serious? Brilliant. I like this old fart already.”

“I don’t. But you have to admit, it was a brilliant move. He is the cheapest bastard I know. He still flies economy. He can buy the Goddamn airline. He owns major credit card companies and half of New York, but flies in economy to save money.”

“That can’t be true. It has to be based on some noble principle or a stand up thing.”
“No, nothing noble about him. Trust me. He treats the people working for him poorly. His own wife can’t stand him and probably has not seen him in years.”

“So why Simona then?”

“She yelled at him in his office, cursed him out.”

Andre smiled, knowing his Simona well. “Classic. What for?”

“She was with her cousin, and when he called him back to the office, she went with him. The way she recounted the story after 25 minutes of listening to him yelling at his staff and one women leaving in tears, she finally walked into his office and gave it to him.”

“Love at first sight. Did anybody ever ask him about it?”

“Oh yeah, he happily volunteers that story. It actually made him very popular in our circle. Like he got into the spotlight again, a second lease on life.”

“I guess it was a win win situation then. He helped her big time, and she made him likable again.”

“Not sure about likable, but yes, he was definitely milking the popularity, being invited everywhere again. Everyone was waiting for his wife to show up, to be the couple of the season, but that didn’t happen.”

“So, you met in London at a meeting?”

“No, not so fast. He and Rupert Murdoch go way back. First World War probably.”

“Haha, not that far, but point taken...”

“Uncle Rupert would move mountains for this asshole, and all of us had to fly in for a party. I don’t even remember the occasion given as an excuse. But trust me, it was like a stew with the finest of the fine. My highlight was Tony Blair and Hugh Grant. I gathered those two together just to get a kick out of Hugh being nervous when I was giving him shit about playing Tony in his movie.”

“How does it feel at a party like that? With so much power and ego? Is it one upping the other?”

“No, not really. Honestly, it’s quite the opposite. Nobody has the need to impress or prove anything, unless you have some wannabes or ladder climbers. Then you either make fun of them, enjoy their ass kissing, or simply get turned off.”

“I guess you are right. When everyone is even-steven, no need to show off. I never thought of it that way.”

“It’s more like creating circles. The intellectuals getting into heated discussions with politicians, famous people picking the brains of finance guys, and just generally sharing information. And then someone brings up the secret Jewish meetings, and it’s like a Greek wedding.” Philipppe laughed.
 

Andre had no idea what Philippe was talking about, but suddenly pointed out that they arrived at hole nine, which meant they were half way through the course.

“I guess time flies, my friend.”

“When you’re having a good time, it always does.”

“Was that a compliment to my story telling or my pleasant company in general?”

“Well, when you put it that way, yes, it’s a pleasant surprise. Earlier this morning, I wasn’t expecting to have any fun with you, and as far as the story, I’m not sure if nine holes will be enough for you.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll speed it up...”

“No, please don’t. I’m loving it.”

“Well, I arrived in London a day earlier, went to see a Chelsea game, enjoyed a great dinner with friends, and went on a date with a hot blonde. The perfect day. The following day was the party. It was an early dinner party, so I planned a date for later that evening. I was making my way through the room, and then I caught a glimpse of a red dress. All I saw was tall, skinny, heels, a perky ass, and then a little profile of short blond hair. I had her in my peripheral vision all the time like a bull totally fixated on the red. It was almost like an obsessive attachment. Then I lost her. I was getting hungry. My muse was gone, so I decided to get some food. This was a party hosted on Billionaires’ Row. You lived in London. No need to elaborate, right?”

“Yep, got it. Kensington Palace Gardens.”

“Well, apparently his neighbor is Russian, so to my delight he sent his present, Beluga caviar, as an apology for being out of town. I was helping myself from one giant jar and was putting it onto my plate when I heard someone stomping their shoe behind me. I turned around, annoyed, only to see Red.”

“Red dress muse was back...”

“Not only that, but she was the on fire kind of red. I was thrown off for a second, but couldn’t figure out the…, it wasn’t even a stink eye; it was a sting eye! So I asked, ‘Something wrong?’.”

‘You just took three giant spoonfuls of Beluga caviar and dumped them onto your plate.’

‘And the problem is? Is it poisoned? Is it illegal?’

She put one of her hands on her hip. That’s when I noticed her bump...

‘It should be illegal. Each small spoonful is worth 100 dollars, so you are either arrogant and rich or ignorant and stupid.’

She made me laugh out loud, especially because she was seriously mad at me.

‘So, which one am I? What’s your diagnosis?’

She moved to the side to see my shoes and killed me again.

‘Expensive shoes, Arrogant Rich.’

‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Sassy Red.’ Then she reached over, took a big chunk of my caviar with her spoon, and put it in her mouth. She closed her eyes, sliding her hands up and down the contours of her body, making pleasure sounds, and finished it by licking her lips and her spoon. I was staring at her in awe, and when she finally opened her eyes, she knew she got me.
 

‘The pleasure was all mine.’

I have to tell you, Andre, that I haven’t been dumbfounded like that for a long time, maybe ever. I had so many emotions going through me. I felt like I was an outsider watching it all. Someone came to the buffet, and the first thing out of my mouth was ‘WTF just happened???’

She marched straight to Rothschild, and later told me what she said to him, ‘Who the fuck is that asshole over there?’.”

“I guess after a nine hour flight he was used to her humor. And yes, I forgot to tell you that she upgraded his ticket. Their lounge story is right up there, too… They were all traveling together. They checked in. He receives preferential treatment as a platinum member or whatever. So, they all know him. He gets the first class lounge and also can bring guests. The cousin was handling the boarding passes and security fast passes so Rothschild never noticed the first class upgrade.