by Judith Gould
The room filled with muffled sounds of surprise. Ariadne looked around the table and cleared her throat before continuing. “For one, PPHL is going to put in place a number of ecofriendly policies. I will order major plant and environment cleanups, improvement of working conditions, more adequate health care, and other policies that some of you may object to. There is no question the bottom line is going to suffer. Profits are inevitably going to drop. But while these changes may be costly to PPHL, they are going to be beneficial to our employees, their immediate workplace environment, and the environment of the world in general. And, I believe, beneficial to PPHL in the long run.”
Adrian beamed at her with pride. She was doing a remarkable job, he thought.
“Are there any questions?” Ariadne asked.
“I have just one,” Adrian said. He was feeding her the question as they had arranged beforehand. It was a good way, they thought, to get the new guiding principles across to the rest of the board.
“If you don’t mind, could you explain what’s brought about this reversal in so many of PPHL’s policies? This is quite sudden, it seems to me, and I think it is to other board members as well.”
Ariadne nodded. “Naturally you would be curious about that,” she said. She tapped the paper, indicating its contents. “I’ve come to realize that a lot of PPHL’s policies are creating environmental hazards beyond what I ever imagined. In the last few weeks I’ve taken the opportunity to visit many of our facilities incognito, and I believe we must—no matter what the costs—change the way we’re operating these facilities. I don’t condone the violent tactics employed by organizations like Mother Earth’s Children, but I think we have a lot to learn from the environmentalists.”
With her last comment Ariadne heard shifting chairs and coughs. She had definitely made some of the board members uncomfortable. “As I said earlier, if any one of you doesn’t like my new policies after you’ve read the complete memo, feel free to turn your resignation in. It’s this way—my way—and no other in the future.” She smiled. “Although that’s not necessarily a new policy.”
There were a few uneasy laughs in the boardroom.
“If there are no further questions, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, rising to her feet, “I have a lot to do. We will reconvene exactly a week from today, at which time I will expect your cooperation or your resignation.”
Her gaze swept around the table, but there were no raised hands nor did anyone speak. “I will see you next week.” She picked up a folder of papers and left the room. She could hear the chatter that immediately started the moment she was out the door, and smiled. That gave them something to think about, she thought.
Back in her office, she had hardly sat down before she was joined by Sugar, Adrian, Yves, and Angelo.
“You did a fantastic job,” Sugar said.
Angelo patted her shoulder and brushed the top of her head with a kiss. “You’re one hell of an angel,” he said. “Nothing in the world could make me happier than what you just did in there.”
“One hell of an angel,” Ariadne repeated with a laugh. “I love that description, Angelo.”
“When are you going to let the public relations department release that new information you gave them?” Adrian asked.
“Later this week,” Ariadne said. “I’m hoping it will be in the Sunday newspapers and on television and radio news shows over the weekend, too. More coverage that way.”
“I don’t think you’re going to have a problem with coverage, sweetheart,” Sugar said as if it was an understatement. “Your donations are going to be front-page news.”
“I hope so,” Ariadne said. “I’ve been very careful about choosing which organizations to donate the money to, and I’ve deliberately made these first few donations really huge ones to generate the maximum amount of publicity. Later on, I’ll be donating smaller amounts to worthy organizations here and there.”
“It’s a very clever ploy,” Adrian said. “The whole world is going to know that Nikoletta Papadaki has become an ecosensitive industrialist.”
“It’s not just a ploy, Adrian,” Ariadne said sternly. “I really believe in these organizations and the work that they’re doing.”
“Another great thing about it is that there are going to be other companies who’ll follow your lead,” Sugar said.
“Exactly,” Ariadne said. “I hope our step forward will be the start of a movement.”
Adrian rose to his feet and kissed her cheek. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’d better get going. You’re doing a terrific job, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that.”
“Thanks, Adrian.”
After work, she went directly upstairs to the penthouse, where Matt was waiting for her. He took her into his arms and kissed her. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“And I’m glad to see you, too,” she replied. “I’m always glad to see you.”
“I thought I would take you out to dinner tonight. We can celebrate the decision we came to about my work,” Matt said.
“That would be wonderful.”
“Someplace small and quiet, where nobody will know Nikoletta Papadaki.”
“Even better,” she said with a laugh. “If there is such a place.”
“I’m sure there is,” Matt said, “if it’s inexpensive, unpopular, and not part of a scene.”
She leaned back from him. “How did getting set up for your work go?” she asked. “You think the space is going to be okay?”
“It went fine,” Matt responded, “and the space is amazing. Why don’t we have a glass of wine, and I’ll tell you about it? Better yet, why don’t we go up there?”
“An excellent suggestion.”
“I’ll be right back.” He let go of her, and Ariadne sat down on a couch and kicked off her shoes, then wiggled her toes. Someday, she thought, she might actually get used to wearing high heels, but not anytime soon.
Matt returned with a bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses. “Ready?”
“Yes.” In her bare feet she walked up to the top floor of the triplex with him. There they settled down on a couch in the mammoth glass-enclosed space that Nikoletta had planned to use as a party room.
“Oh, my God,” Ariadne exclaimed as she looked about. There were several worktables, some of them displaying maquettes of sculptures that he’d already made or was planning to make, tools of all kinds, racks of different woods and metals, even welder’s tanks and torches. Several pieces of sculpture in various stages of completion stood about. “You’ve done a mountain of work. I can’t believe it.”
“I had a lot of help with the movers,” Matt said. “I could never have done all this myself.”
“It’s beginning to look like a real artist’s studio,” she said excitedly.
“It is, isn’t it?” Matt put the wine and glasses down on a table, then poured their drinks. He handed her a glass.
“Thank you,” Ariadne said.
He slid an arm around her shoulders and kissed her. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.
“Cheers.”
They both took a sip of wine before Matt turned to her. “You’ve given me the opportunity I’ve been looking for, for as long as I can remember, and I’m going to work very hard to prove myself.”
“You’ve already done that, as far as I’m concerned,” Ariadne said, “and I think you know that.”
“Hearing that from you means the world to me, Ariadne, but I want . . . well, I guess you’d say that I want validation from the outside world.”
“You mean the New York art world?”
He nodded. “That’s part of it certainly.”
“I’m sure it’ll happen if you want it to,” she said. “I’ve loved your sculpture from the moment I first set eyes on it at your place in the Berkshires—”
“Our place,” he corrected her.
“Hmmm?”
“It’s our place in the Berkshires no
w.”
“And I love it,” she said. “It’ll sure be a welcome hideaway.” She kissed his cheek. “Anyway, I’m certain a lot of other people are going to love your work, too.”
“I hope so because I want to be able to pay my way.”
“I know you do.”
He set his glass down and waved an arm around. “This means so much to me. You can’t imagine.” He took her into his arms and hugged her to him. “I love you so much.”
Ariadne set her glass down. “I love you, too, Matt.”
He kissed her passionately, then drew back. “Why don’t we stay in tonight? Do you mind?”
She shook her head. “I’d love that.”
“We could order in.” He kissed her deeply. “In a while.”
“Hmmm, in a while.”
“Want to finish your wine in the bedroom?”
“Oh, yes.”
Chapter Thirty-two
“What shit!”Kees Vanmeerendonk threw the newspaper across the room, its pages flying apart and leaving a trail across the floor. “What’s wrong?” asked the girl who came out of the bathroom, toweling her short-cropped hair.
“Oh, it’s all this crap the newspapers are printing about Nikoletta Papadaki. You’d think she’d turned into the Virgin Mary or something.”
“What is it now?”
“Front-page news in the New York Times about her latest contribution to an environmental organization,” he replied. “The largest they’ve ever received. Then there’s an article in the business section about the change in policies at PPHL. How they’re increasing workers’ benefits, cleaning up plant sites, all that kind of garbage.”
“It must be true,” the girl said. “How can they print it if it isn’t?”
“You don’t understand, Melanie,” he told her. “What they’re saying may be true, but that doesn’t mean that PPHL and Nikoletta Papadaki have really changed course. It only means that she’s throwing peanuts at a couple of environmental groups to get publicity about how she and the company have changed. But believe me, they haven’t changed one iota. It’s all camouflage so that they can continue to pollute and to make things even worse than they are. She’s spending a few million dollars to clean up her name, and for her that’s chump change.”
“Do you really think she’d go to all that trouble?”
Kees slammed a fist on the tabletop, making dishes and silverware jump. A half-empty bottle of wine almost toppled, but he grabbed it before it fell over. “Of course she’d go to that trouble, you idiot,” he roared.
His face was red with fury, and Melanie hung her head in shame. She hated herself for angering Kees like this, but she had yet to learn what would set him off. It seemed to her that he was always like a bomb ready to explode, ever since she’d gotten to know him after the meeting in London. “I’m sorry, Kees,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”
“You never do!” he snapped. “Because you don’t think!” he added, pointing at his head with a finger. “I showed you the gossip column in the newspaper about how Nikoletta Papadaki hadn’t been seen out and about because of her new ‘love,’ ” he went on, enjoying his tirade, “and you’re so stupid that you actually think this man has changed her. What a complete idiot you are!”
“I only meant that—”
“You ‘only meant,’ ” he snarled. “You don’t know the first thing about this. Nothing will change her. It’s just more camouflage. Don’t you see? She hasn’t suddenly had a personality change. No! This is all PR. She’s trying to make herself and the company look good after the bad publicity they’ve been getting.”
Tears had welled up in Melanie’s eyes, and she fought to hold them back as she put on the coveralls she always wore.
Kees sat glaring at her, his fingers beating a steady tattoo on the tabletop. “If you’re going to cry, Melanie, then get your things and get out of here. And don’t come back. I don’t need some sniveling wimp in my way.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, his fury was rekindled. “I suspected from the beginning that you weren’t a true believer. You’re just a hanger-on, aren’t you?”
Melanie’s body shook as she cried, and she repeatedly wiped away the tears with the bottom of her T-shirt. Tossing her few possessions into a well-worn backpack, she could hardly wait to get out of the tiny, dark basement apartment.
“So you’re packing,” he said. “Well, good riddance. I don’t need you, and the group doesn’t need you. And, believe me, I’m going to tell them. I don’t think you can be trusted, and you know what happens to people like you who don’t really belong, don’t you?”
Melanie heaved the backpack on her shoulders and started toward the door.
“They end up floaters, Melanie. That’s what happens to them. And you don’t want that happening to you, do you?”
She shook her head.
“So you’ll keep your mouth shut, won’t you?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
Melanie went to the door and unlocked the three dead bolts up and down its length. She didn’t look back when she closed the door behind her.
Kees went to the door, locking it behind her. He didn’t have to worry about her keys, because he’d never given her a set. Returning to his chair, he picked up the pages of newspaper that he’d thrown down, and placed them on the table. He sat down and brooded, but not about Melanie. She was just another in a long line of acolytes who meant nothing to him.
It was Nikoletta Papadaki who bothered him. Part of PPHL’s latest publicity blitz was her seclusion with her new boyfriend. That meant she was staying out of the public eye, making herself a hard target. Since the night of the opening of the new PPHL headquarters, he’d hardly managed to get more than a glimpse of her, even though he’d trailed her almost constantly. Her security had been beefed up, and lately, she seldom left her penthouse atop the new building. When she did, he could detect no pattern in her movements.
Kees smiled. Just another challenge, he thought, because Nikoletta Papadaki will not escape me. He was certain that she couldn’t keep up this new facade much longer. Despite the publicity, she would be out and about. And he would be waiting for her.
He stood up and stretched. In the meantime, he had business to tend to. He would be leaving this basement apartment tonight, moving to another apartment much like it. He began to pack his belongings for the trip to Hell’s Kitchen. The apartment was a dump, but it was a mere three blocks from the penthouse in the sky where Nikoletta Papadaki lived. No one else in the New York cell of Mother Earth’s Children knew about it, and he’d been saving it for just this sort of occasion. A new countdown had begun. He could feel it in every fiber of his body.
She would be close by, and soon she would be his.
Chapter Thirty-three
Weeks passed by, and Ariadne faced test after test, always proving herself capable of running PPHL and impersonating Nikoletta to the outside world. The publicity campaign that centered on PPHL’s new business image and Nikoletta Papadaki’s personal philanthropy was a great help, but it also created endless fodder for the gossip mills. NIKOLETTA PAPADAKI HAS RELIGIOUS CONVERSION, one tabloid touted, and the same variation on the theme was printed in story after story in various publications. Because Ariadne kept a low profile, the tabloids were forced to use file photographs, and they invariably juxtaposed pictures of Nikoletta in the briefest bikinis along with the articles about her conversion. Ariadne didn’t respond to any of them, but remained aloof and pretended no interest.
“Niki’s fallen under the spell of a Svengali” went the gist of the confidences exchanged among former friends and acquaintances after repeated calls weren’t taken and invitations were turned down. Ariadne quickly discovered that none of the so-called friends and acquaintances were persistent or seemed particularly concerned. Nikoletta was in truth close to no one. She had been surrounded by a host of rich partygoers like herself, and they lost interest when the parties stopped. The telephone quit ringing, and the invita
tions stopped arriving in the mail. Nikoletta was not especially missed.
The dawning reality of the superficial world in which her twin sister had lived deeply disturbed Ariadne, even though Adrian and the others had tried to prepare her for what to expect. “She won’t allow anyone to love her,” Adrian had told her. “No one. She doesn’t want anyone too close.”
“But I thought she had loads of friends,” Ariadne replied. “I’ve seen tons of video footage and pictures from parties all over the world.”
Adrian shook his head sadly. “Ariadne, you will quickly discover that her world is almost completely artificial. Those people are brought together because of their money, and they love publicity. Most of them are hungry for the photographers, no matter what they say.” He sighed. “It’s almost as if they didn’t exist unless they saw themselves written up in the gossip columns.”
That set Ariadne to thinking about the love her foster parents had given her, both in Greece and Connecticut. And now, with the love that she and Matt shared, she felt a keen compassion toward the sister she’d never known. What if the lack of love had made her the way she was? Maybe, Ariadne decided, she deserved another chance. The guilt she felt over keeping her sister locked away began to eat at her constantly, and she finally decided to broach the subject with Matt.
One Saturday night after making love, she chose to discuss it with him. “I know we’ve been over and over this,” she said, “but I can’t put my worries to rest. Nikoletta has been away for several months now, and from what the doctors at the clinic say she’s been an angel.”
“Of course she has, sweetheart,” Matt replied. “She’s hoping for a reprieve, so she’s on her best behavior.”
“Maybe. But could she keep up a front for such a long time? Don’t you think that she might have changed?”
Matt shook his head. “That’s one of the things I love about you,” he replied. “You’ll give anybody the benefit of the doubt. But I don’t think your sister has changed one iota.” He didn’t want to discuss the evil he had witnessed during his stint in the CIA, but he firmly believed that some people were born evil, and Nikoletta was one of them.
