Fallen Too Far

by Mia Moore

  Helen and Barry looked at each other, speaking volumes with their eyes—forty years of marriage does that—Barry cocked his head to one side, and Helen shook hers in return. Barry’s eyebrows went up and Helen nodded. Barry dropped one eyebrow, and Helen tipped her head at him.

  “Okay, honey,” Barry turned to Annik. “I guess this is it then, and Helen will tell us if I’m wrong. We were told the land alone is worth between one point five and two million. If you offer us anywhere between those numbers, we’ll sell the whole thing to you, right honey?” Helen silently nodded, and then added:

  “With lifetime membership for us, of course. Now, tell us, what are you going to do to make it better than it is, Annik?”

  The rest of the morning was spent with Annik showing the improvements she planned to make at Pandora’s. Her plans for renewing the building, and her plans to expand the club’s membership. She had to make Pandora’s a money maker, and her ideas had enough merit to sway Helen and Barry.

  The three of them drew up an ‘Intent To Purchase’ agreement, subject to further negotiations, ranging the price from one point five to two million dollars, and Annik left a check for ten thousand as a deposit and sign of good will. She believed in the Vanderbergs enough that it was non-refundable, with a two week deadline to close the deal.

  Annik Dandridge had come to the home of Helen and Barry Vanderberg as a business associate and left as a friend. It was the first concrete step in making her dream of owning Pandora’s a reality. After the door closed behind her, any awareness of her feet touching the ground had evaporated. She was floating in the warm sunshine of the day, on cloud nine.

  ****

  An hour later, in the reception area outside the bank’s loans department, Annik felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight. The receptionist had announced that Ms. Olin could see her now. She followed the young woman down a beige, sterile hallway and entered a windowless, small office. A chubby woman in a dark pants suit sat behind a tidy desk. She immediately rose to her feet, introduced herself, taking Annik’s hand in a firm grip. When they were both seated, Ms. Olin asked Annik how she could assist her.

  "Well Ms. Olin..."

  "No, no, please, call me Kim”

  "Okay Kim, I'm here to see about a loan for a business I would like to buy. I have money saved, but the business price is about three million dollars.” Annik opened her briefcase, removed papers and set them on Kim's desk.

  "What sort of business is it? Is it currently operating? Does it have a positive cash flow, show a profit?" Kim got right down to business.

  Annik outlined the membership, the current number of events generating revenue and the estimated operating costs. Of course she omitted the fact that it was a sex club, emphasizing instead that it was a private club. No need to get into that at this point.

  Kim was scribbling down notes and punching numbers into her desk top calculator. She scanned them, sat back in her chair and glanced up from the papers. Her eyes stared above her black rimmed glasses "But the income from this place JUST meets the staffing costs and we haven't touched on insurance or property tax."

  She once more handed Kim a set of papers—the business plan she had prepared outlining the increase in income to be generated, full utilization of the business, events scheduled for six nights. There was a corresponding increase in expenses, taxes, insurance factored in at realistic amounts, thanks to her research. She forced herself to sit back in the chair and softly rest her hands in her lap as she waited for Kim’s response.

  "Hmm…this looks better. You are more than quadrupling the net return here. This looks good.” Kim reached for a set of papers stapled together. “I pulled up your bank accounts and credit listing and they also look fine. It's a sizable amount of money you would need from us. I hate to say this, but we would need much more of an investment on your part—twenty five percent of the price. What is this business Annik?” Kim leaned toward her, head tilted slightly, eyes a question mark in her face.

  Okay, it’s got to come out sooner or later. Here goes."I'm going to level with you, Kim. It’s a sophisticated, exclusive, sex club. What I could do with it, would make it world famous. It would draw a certain type of tourists from around the world." There. Let the chips fall where they may. Hopefully in her favor.

  “Oh boy,” Kim picked the papers up, holding them, to straighten their order with her fingers, aligning the page bottoms with a tap on her desk. She sighed before her lips formed a half smile.

  "Your plan’s ambitious Annik. It's well researched and by and large sound, it’s sound. I’ve gotten approval for loans much higher than this on less paperwork, to tell you the truth. But I'm afraid the bank isn’t interested in funding this type of venture. Believe me, I would love to help you, but I can't sell this to my boss.” Kim lowered her head and looked sadly at her.

  Annik inhaled deeply and gazed at the ceiling. A good plan—better than many. But because it involved sex, no way, huh? No surprise there, But still… It wasn’t Kim’s fault, but even so, it stung. The regret was evident in Kim’s eyes.

  "You know, Kim, I didn't really expect you to go for an investment like this. But to tell you the truth, I hoped I was wrong. At any rate, I've done my homework and I just wanted to throw up a trial balloon, hoping that maybe things had changed some. Even so, I’m not regretting this meeting—I wanted to see what a professional, such as you, would say… point out anything I may have missed."

  "Annik for an investment like this, you may want to talk to a private lender, talk to lawyers who specialize in matching investors with unique business proposals. It's more venture capital." Kim handed the papers back to Annik. “We’ve backed health clubs on less detail than you have here, you know.” Kim leaned forward. “But we’re a bank, and we’re conservative, more so than we should be maybe. This is a solid proposal. You ought to be able to find an angel investor without too much difficulty.”

  “Thanks, Kim. That was what I was kind of thinking as well. I have an appointment at two thirty today at Bevins and Chow.”

  “They're good. You’ll have a pretty good chance with them. I know they're hooked into Saudi money and some pretty wealthy American clients.” Kim stood up. Her smile was encouraging.

  Annik finished putting the papers back into the brief case, and closing it with a click she rose and shook Kim's hand.

  “Good luck, Annik. Let me know how you make out. I like to see women in business succeed, you know.”

  “Thanks Kim. For your time and for not throwing me out of your office, trying to finance this.” She had given the bank her best shot.

  “Sex sells and it seems to me, you're approaching it honestly. When I think about how much sex there is in advertising—oh boy!” Kim laughed; “You’re following the first rule of business, you know—find a need…” Kim’s eyes went wide.

  “And, umm… ‘fill it’, Kim?”

  Kim face went pink. “Yes.” The two women had a giggle, and she departed Kim’s office.

  The bank couldn’t lend her the money but Kim got it. Too bad they were so conservative. She glanced at her watch, ten minutes before two. The rumbling in her stomach reminded her, she had skipped lunch. There was a Greek restaurant nearby, that she had noticed on the way to the bank.

  Briskly, she walked along the busy sidewalk. The sounds of the city, the traffic, car horns and pedestrians she passed filled her ears. The smell of food wafting out through the doors of restaurants and street hot dog vendors made her mouth water. Spotting a familiar sign she and went into the restaurant. She removed her coat and settled herself into a hard wooden chair. A dark-eyed, Adonis approached her table to ask what she would like.

  How about for Bernie Bevins to find a rich Greek tycoon who lends money to smart women. Any chance you're related to the Onassis family, Junior?

  “I’ll have a salad, water and coffee, please.”

  She waited patiently for lunch. It had gone okay at the bank and Kim had liked the business plan. Sure, she
had pointed out that her bank account was light on the down payment. But she hadn’t trashed the business plan. That’s where friends like Bernie Bevins came in. This was what they did for a living—match ideas and money.

  After eating the salad she asked for the check and tipped the Greek Adonis generously. Bernie would come through for her. There was a bounce in her step as she left the restaurant. The sun was still shining and everything would work out fine.

  Chapter 12

  The taxi dropped her at the office of Bevins and Chow just before two thirty. She asked for Mr. Bevins and was Escorted into his office by a blond, heavy-set woman.

  “Mr. Bevins, Ms. Dandridge is here for your appointment.” The woman opened the door wide to allow her to brush past.

  Bernie raised his portly body from his chair and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Dandridge.” He glanced at the secretary as he was saying this.

  When his office door closed and it was just the two of them, relief appeared on his face.

  “Annik, what can I do for you? That’s some outfit you’re wearing, you look like a lawyer. I've never seen you in clothes like these. It's quite a transformation.”

  Taking a seat across from him, she looked him straight in the eye, a smile on her face. “Bernie, I need your services for change. I want to buy a business and I understand you can link me up to some serious offshore money. Here, look at this proposal.” She repeated the pitch she had given Kim, along with the paperwork containing the business plan and financials.

  Bernie listened to her, nodding his head as he read through her business proposal. He asked her what she was planning to buy.

  “Pandora’s.” She proceeded to describe the property on Old Kingston Road, the stately mansion, the grounds and her plans on renovations. Bernie had never been at Pandora’s to her knowledge. At least never with her.

  Bernie peered at her and it occurred to her that he looked suddenly uncomfortable. Why would that be? Was it because of their previous contacts? His kink?

  His face showed a new resolve. He raised his hand to his chin and drew a deep breath.

  “Your plan looks good, but it may be tough to find an investor. A few come to mind who might be willing to take a chance. I’ve steered them onto business investments which have profited them, a lot. That will help and the profit for them on this investment could be substantial. But I also have to sell them on you. What business experience do you have? Could you deliver these numbers in annual income? What’s your marketing plan? You’re talking high class tourists. How are you going to get them to come? No pun intended.”

  “Bernie, I know you don't really know me that well. But I am an intelligent, highly motivated, hard-working woman who has a concrete business plan. I graduated cum laude from University, you know. I had to drop out and start working in the field where you and I met when my mother became ill. Look, I may not have run a place like Pandora’s, but I run my own business well enough to have put that cash away. I grew up in the hospitality industry. Dammit Bernie, I know how to treat guests. Wouldn’t you agree?” The last phrase was added sweetly.

  Determined to convince him, she continued. “I don’t know about you, but I have an annual income that’s a strong six figures and I only work twenty hours a week at it, because I work smart. Pandora’s has become my dream, Bernie. I can do this!” There wasn’t anything else to add. The silence hung for a moment or two.

  Bernie asked, “Is everything you said just now true?”

  “Yes. All of it.” If Bernie only knew the price she’d paid to be able to sit there and ask for this money.

  “You can document all of it? I mean, your income, your experience in ‘hospitality’—what did you do, work at a brothel or something?”

  She laughed. “No, Bernie; my father owned the two most prestigious hotels in Barbados and I lived there until I was fourteen. I grew up treating guests well.”

  “And you can back that up?”

  “Easily. All of it.”

  She watched Bernie silently. Would he help her? What was going on in his mind right now?

  “Okay, sit tight. I'm going into the other office and make a couple of calls… see if there's any interest. I’ll ask my secretary to bring you some water or coffee, if you prefer. Give me a half an hour. I’ll take a run at this, Annik; I’m not making any promises, okay? But let me put some feelers out there to see which way the wind is blowing. It is the 21st Century after all.” He rose to his feet and gave her a pat on her shoulder before he left.

  In a few minutes, the secretary entered with a tray containing a jug of ice water and a glass. She asked Annik if she would like a coffee. Annik declined, thanking her and she left. With nothing to do but wait on pins and needles she scanned the office for a magazine to read. Family photos sat on Bernie's desk. There were multiple framed certificates of financial accreditation on the wall. His undergrad degree. His MBA. And a wall cluttered with photos of him with celebrities, all autographed. Stacked on his credenza, next to his computer sat many file folders. He was a busy man.

  She noticed the New York Times and skimmed through it. Reading was a brief reprieve from the hard lump of nerves resting uneasily in her stomach. Thank God for the light lunch. Think positively. What was left in Pandora’s box? Hope was left. That was strong enough to cling to. Maybe.

  Startled at the sound of a door opening, she quickly glanced up to see Bernie return. His face was a non-readable mask.

  “Okay, I talked to my guys. I'm afraid it doesn't look good. My Saudi friend is skeptical about you. You’re a dark horse, unproven in running a business. He likes the profit potential, but not you. My second guy is a millionaire from South Carolina, who tore a strip off me. I never knew he was so devout or that religious people knew so many four letter words. I think his exact words were, “No way he's going to fund a whorehouse. She should burn in hell. The Jezebel.” And that was his clean stuff.

  “So there you have it, lack of experience and morality. Maybe you should stick with what you know. I ran it past my boss, who told me you ought to give up on this fantasy. And maybe my boss is right, you know?”

  “What does that mean?” She was barely able to keep the surprise from her voice. That was it? No other prospects?

  “You know what it means, girl. You’re a hooker. Yeah, you’re an expensive one, and you’re good at it. But to float three million? On a brothel?”

  Her eyes squinted in anger. So this was the way it was going to be. Well. “It’s not a brothel, Bernie.”

  “Whatever. It sure seems like one from where I’m sitting. Hey, maybe you get yourself a stable of girls and take a piece of the action, huh? But to try to set up some sort of ‘Dinner Club’, with a half-assed health club, and a swinger’s club or something thrown in… that’s crazy.”

  “Crazy, eh? Pandora’s has been operating at about twenty five percent of its potential for about seventy years, buster. Crazy, huh?”

  Bernie waved his hand again, “Yeah, right. Sure. We’re done here.”

  She sat silently and inhaled slowly before she spoke, “My business plan is solid. I am solid. I can understand your Saudi contact’s hesitancy. But, as far as some moralistic rich, cracker shutting me down, that's shortsighted, narrow minded nonsense. I don't want his fucking money. But Bernie, don't ever speak to me again in a condescending manner. That is unacceptable.”

  “Oh, come one, Annik! Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I am a business woman, Bernie. I am trying to expand my business. Damn it! I thought you’d at least give me respect. I don’t think you’ve tried your best, looking at these numbers. I think you just don’t want to get in bed with your whore. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  He answered with a blush.

  “Then, Bernie, if you don’t want to be part of this, who should I approach?”

  “Nobody I know, Annik. Don’t even think of me doing any kind of hand off on this idea.” Bernie’s face had turned scarlet.

 
Standing to her feet, she leaned over the desk towards him and spat out. “I've always treated you with respect when you used my services—even doing your kink. I always respected your needs, your wants. I can’t believe it. I actually felt honored that you shared with me what you thought was your basest desires. But you won’t give me the same respect. It’s a good plan, and you know it. But you’re too much of a… a pussy to get behind it.”

  “Hey, Baby, wait a minute…”

  “Don’t ‘Baby’ me, buster. You could have at least have given me some respect.” She snatched her file from his desk and left.

  She walked for blocks and blocks, sorting through her experiences that day, trying to calm down, mind racing to find a plan B on the financing. The only reason she approached Bernie was because he was in venture capital. There was no way—no damn way, she’d approach any of her clients. Damn. For some of them, it was pocket money. This plan would go on its own merits or not at all. She just needed to find the right investor.

  But how?

  She found herself in front of Chez Louis, one of her favorite places. She was tired. She was hungry. Her feet hurt. She needed a drink.

  Seated at a small table next to the window, she ordered a double Moscow Mule and scanned the menu. When the drink arrived, she downed a quarter of it and gave the waiter her order. Still reeling from the Bernie encounter, but breathing deeply, trying to compose herself, she glanced around the room at the other tables.

  Her eyes flitted to the door which had just opened. Tom! He was alone. She raised her hand, waving slightly to catch his attention. He glanced her way and his eyes widened. Smiling, he approached the table. Thank God it was Tom—all her dreams aside of what could have been, she really needed a friend right now…

  “Tom, nice to see you. Are you dining alone tonight?”