by Wallace Ford
Diedre was right about this Ray Beard issue being of no real import to Morningstar. Ray’s leaving was just a bump in the road. And we were all correct in deciding that any pre-announcement would just be counterproductive.
And then I found myself wondering if she wanted me right now as much as I wanted her. And I thought about the serendipity of canceling the pre-announcement, allowing us to get back into Manhattan earlier in the evening. We could be away from the party and away from the world for a few days. And I wondered if her suggestion might have obscured that particular agenda.
I took another sip of the martini and savored it. I took in the view from the deck and tried to absorb the entire panorama of the ocean and the shore and the sailboats and yachts and the sky and the clouds. It was wonderful. It was relaxing as the lightest of breezes tiptoed across my face.
And then I thought some more. Gordon and Diedre said basically the same thing when it came to this Ray Beard matter. But when Gordon said it, somehow it elicited a different feeling. It was hard to describe but it was a very real feeling nonetheless. It was almost as if, on some level, Gordon saw Ray’s decision as an act of betrayal, and it was an act that he appreciated, understood, and admired. Perhaps it was just my imagination running away with me, as the song goes.
I didn’t know what it was. I sure as hell wasn’t sure that I should make more of it than it was. And what was it, anyway? But I had learned to put a certain amount of trust in my intuition. I just could not figure out what it was telling me.
I already knew that Gordon was an asshole, someone not to be trusted. He was a scorpion and a snake rolled into one, but he could be a formidable asset if he was on your side. But was he on Morningstar’s side?
He certainly seemed to be. He said all the right things and more important, he did all the right things. Just the contacts that he had provided for Jerome and Diedre promised to make Morningstar a ton of money.
His New Orleans strategy had all the earmarks of a masterstroke. If Mayor Lodrig was reelected, Morningstar would be one of the leading investment firms in the area of municipal finance within the year. Still there was something else that just wouldn’t go away. There was the glimmering of an idea that was playing hide and seek with my imagination.
CHAPTER 91
Paul
Way down yonder in New Orleans
I have never been big on guessing games so something made me go inside Gordon’s house and call Sammy Groce in New Orleans. Amazingly, I was able to reach Sammy at the third number that I had for him.
I usually had to call at least six numbers with a couple of callbacks thrown in for extra aggravation. I started to feel lucky until I started actually talking to Sammy.
“Paul, how’s life in the big city?”
“I’m out on Long Island right now, Sammy. But New York was there the last time that I checked.”
“Paul Taylor, you have got to be the funniest lawyer in America. But that’s not saying much.”
“Thanks for the compliment, Sammy, but you know damn well I didn’t call to tell you jokes. What’s going on with the mayor’s race? Anything new?”
“Well Paul, as a matter of fact there is some news. I was planning to call you right after the holiday. You see I met this redbone gal in the Broussard campaign. She’s as fine as fine can be. And I’m telling you Paul, I swear, the things that girl can do with her …”
“Sammy, Sammy, when we have time to run the bars in the French Quarter, you can tell me all about her. Right now, I need to know what you know.” I knew that if I didn’t cut Sammy off right away, I would end up hearing about all of his female acquaintances of the last six months, and that call could take hours.
“Okay, okay … I’m getting to it. The word is that on Wednesday, the Broussard campaign is going to announce a real blockbuster of a story about Mayor Lodrig.”
I felt my blood run ice cold. It was still warm on that afternoon in Long Island, but icy chills were gathering to stampede across my skull and down my spine. I put down my Belvedere martini and listened intently as Sammy continued.
“I don’t know all the details, but there is supposed to be something about the mayor and his taxes and illegal immigrants working in his father’s chocolate factory up in Baton Rouge. At least that’s what I hear.”
I took a deep breath. This was turning out to be Surprise Saturday after all. And I have always hated surprises.
“Sammy, don’t leave me hanging. How bad is this going to be? Is this going to be a real problem for Mayor Lodrig?”
“I don’t have no goddamn crystal ball and I’m no smart lawyer from New York City. But I tell you what. This can’t be a good thing. This may be the “September Surprise” I was telling you about months ago.
“And I’ll tell you something else. If this story has any, what do you call it … corroboration? The U.S. Attorney down here is going to get a grand jury together faster than you can spit. And that can’t be a good thing, even if you are running for dogcatcher.”
As much of a fool as Sammy could be, he was dead-bang right this time, even if his story was only partially true. If the story had any credibility it could kill the mayor’s reelection campaign. It would be almost impossible to rehabilitate his campaign before the election in November. Hell, the primary was in three weeks.
“Sammy, check for a FedEx envelope coming next week. It will be a token of my appreciation. And I don’t mean the kind that you use on the Storyville trolley. You have been a big, big help. You enjoy the rest of the weekend and I will call you on Wednesday.”
“Thanks so very much for the ‘token,’ counselor, and I will look for your call.”
“Don’t mention it. You really have been very, very helpful, Sammy. Just keep your eyes and ears open and be careful. You may be swimming in some deep water.”
“This old crawdaddy ain’t going nowhere.”
I was so engrossed in my conversation with Sammy that I never realized that Gordon was standing behind me for most of the time that I was on the phone. Actually, I did not realize that until much later on. Just like I didn’t realize that I had just spoken to Sammy Groce for the last time.
On the following Monday morning Sammy was found dead of smoke inhalation caused by a fire in his bedroom. The New Orleans Fire Department determined that the fire had been caused by a cigarette that Sammy had been smoking in bed. That was real interesting news because I knew that Sammy had stopped smoking three years earlier.
CHAPTER 92
Gordon
Crosstown traffic
Listening to Paul’s side of the conversation with Sammy Groce, I knew that it was only a matter of time before he put two and two together and got five. But time was on my side and there was really no need to worry. I could continue to be gracious and hospitable. I was enjoying playing this role.
“Do you want another Belvedere martini while I’m up?” Paul was more than a little startled when he turned and saw me. And I could tell that he wondered if I had been listening to his conversation. He would never know from my expression or behavior. I made sure of that.
“No thanks, Gordon. I am going to take it easy for now. Your parties have always been hell on my liver.” We both had to laugh at the half joke, half truth.
“I have never noticed you having a problem before. Getting old, brother?” I decided to keep the banter light.
“I probably am getting old. Just like you and everyone else who is alive. But, to tell the truth, Diedre and I are going to drive back to Manhattan tonight, so I don’t want to have too much to drink right now.”
“Tonight? You are not going to stay for the whole party?”
“What can I tell you, Gordon? She wants to have brunch in SoHo on Sunday at Felix. What can you do?”
We both knew Felix. It was a lovely bistro on West Broadway near Grand Street. It had unpretentious French cuisine and could also regale you with reggae or samba music on any given day. I had to admire Diedre’s choice of a place for brunch.<
br />
“Listen, Paul, it’s none of my business—but are you and Diedre …, how can I say it?”
“An item? Back together? Getting down?” We both had to laugh. The Dark Lord and I noticed the wonderful weather and we both hoped that it would continue through the evening so that the party would be a success.
“Something like that. But all I really wanted to say is that I am happy for you guys. Not that it’s any of my business, as I said, but you both deserve to be happy.”
I could tell that for a moment or two, Paul absolutely did not know what to say. This was not the Gordon Perkins that he knew speaking to him. It was great to see him trying to figure out what to say next.
“I knew what people have said about me. That I could double sell the mortgage on my best friend’s mother’s house and then have dinner with him that evening. That butter would not melt in my mouth but that gold would melt in my hand.” That made Paul’s reaction all the more delicious to watch.
“Well Gordon, I have to thank you very much. I guess you would have to know that we both have felt a little awkward, kind of like teenagers trying to keep all of this a secret, particularly with Morningstar coming to a head. I guess we owe our new relationship to your lodging arrangements.”
I could tell that Paul was trying to inject some humor in all of this and we both laughed. By now his wondering what I had heard of his conversation with Sammy Groce had to be receding into his mind. He would think about it later, and later would be just fine.
“Seriously, thanks for the sentiment. I really appreciate it. And you know something, Gordon? I really hope it works for the both of us this time.”
I am sure that later, Paul would hardly believe that he had had this kind of conversation with me. But sometimes some people just have to let their feelings out to another person, even if that person would happen to be me.
A bubble of quiet seemed to surround us as the workmen and staff hustled to get all of the party preparations completed. It was going on three. Six was when all preparations were to be finished and everybody working knew that disappointing me was simply the worst thing that they could ever choose to do.
For a few minutes neither of us spoke. We both looked out over the water. It was a lovely day. I could tell that Paul was trying to sort through all that was happening. He was no dummy and I could tell that he felt that there were pieces of some kind of puzzle and he just could not figure it out. The Dark Lord and I took some pleasure in watching him try.
And then it seemed to me that there was a moment of realization dawning on Paul. There was no reason for me to think that. It was actually something that the Dark Lord detected. It was time to change the subject and move Paul’s attention elsewhere.
“You know, Paul. I have always wanted to be the boss. That’s why I started my own firm in the first place. And that’s why I have always pushed so hard to get to the top. And that’s why I am at the top now.
“I never even thought about partnering with anyone. Until you introduced the idea of this merger, I would just as soon have run Diedre and Jerome into the ground if it would have advanced my cause. I hope you don’t mind me being so frank and honest. But it’s the truth.”
“No, Gordon. Go on. I think I am past the point of my bubble being burst. Please continue.”
“Paul, I want to be sure that we are clear on this. Your idea was absolutely right from the very first day. And I saw it. I have learned that working with other talented people can be something special.
“What I am trying to say is that I thank you for bringing the three of us together and for considering me in the mix when I could not have seemed an obvious choice for anybody as a partner.”
“No thanks needed, Gordon. Like I said that afternoon at the Water Club, I really believe that the three of you are going to make history. And I am just glad to be a part of it. It’s going to be fun seeing Morningstar make its mark on Wall Street. Hell, it’s going to be a lot of fun.”
“I tell you what. A lot of our white brothers and sisters on Wall Street are going to fall out of their executive chairs when the news hits on Wednesday. I have heard more than a few of them say that they never see successful blacks in any field put aside their egos and self-interests to form bigger firms, companies, whatever. Won’t they be surprised?”
“They will be surprised all right. And I’ll tell you something else, Gordon. There will be more than a few black brothers and sisters who will be surprised too!” We both had to laugh at the truth that was not so well hidden in that statement.
“Amen, Reverend Taylor. Amen, I say!” I tried to smile as broadly as possible as I said that to make sure that Paul knew that I was joking. It was time to relax for a few minutes. There would be time for Morningstar and Ray Beard and Sammy Groce in just a little while.
“Well, Gordon, I am going to take advantage of your great deck and this wonderful view. That is, unless you need me to help out with something?”
“Man, I pay all these people you see and more that you don’t see just to make sure that you don’t have to do a thing but relax and enjoy. Thanks though. Just take it easy and I’ll see you when folks start showing up. I have a few calls to make anyway.”
“Thanks, Gordon. I think I can follow those instructions perfectly.”
We both laughed again and I went back inside the house where the smile disappeared from my face immediately. I did have a few calls to make, starting with a very important one to some people that I knew in Louisiana. The Dark Lord knew just who to call. In Byzantine situations like this, I just followed his instructions. He never led me wrong.
But first he led me to one of the bathrooms in my private master bedroom suite. I had gone long enough without enjoying some cocaine. It had been at least an hour. It was time to reward myself with a reload.
CHAPTER 93
Diedre
When the hunter gets captured by the game …
When I returned from getting my hair done, Paul had this funny look on his face that he was reluctant to explain. I didn’t think that it was about my hair.
“Paul, if you have something to say about my hair, after all the trouble I have gone through, you better say it now.” I was smiling and trying to lighten the moment. His answer told me that I had at least partially succeeded.
“Actually, I was wondering how upset you would be if we just messed your hair up for the next hour or two before the party started.”
“Paul Taylor, don’t you even dare to think about it. But I will make you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” he asked as he moved closer, closing the guest suite door behind us as he caressed my back and hips. My hairdo was in real jeopardy.
“How about we postpone messing up my hair for now, and on the ride back you can tell me all the ways that you would like to rearrange my hairdo. I will grant you carte blanche, Mr. Taylor.”
“As the saying goes, that’s an offer I cannot refuse. And you better know that I am going to hold you to it.”
“You had better.”
CHAPTER 94
Sture
Hot fun in the summertime
Because I manage Dorothy’s By the Sea, I could have recited the guest list for Gordon’s party by heart. It was basically a carbon copy of the guest list for the Winner Tomlinson memorial service. The difference, of course, is that the mood was much lighter.
People were still coming for business networking purposes and, one thing that I have noticed about The Pride, people always noted who was there and who wasn’t. Who was with whom, and who wasn’t, carried great importance. And I also noticed that many, if not most, of the conversations were liberally sprinkled with self-promotion and subtle searches for any kind of inside information.
Of course I did not know about Morningstar until everyone else learned about it the following Wednesday. Still, it was no big deal to see Jerome and Gordon and Diedre together at a function, certainly at Gordon’s annual summer party. No one even thought about the business con
nection.
Actually, the big news was the obvious resumption of a relationship between Paul and Diedre. That was enough to set tongues wagging and eliminating even the least bit of consideration of anything else of importance being planned. As it turned out, Diedre, Gordon, Jerome, and Paul couldn’t have planned a better diversion if they had tried.
And so, The Pride partied just as they did every year at Gordon’s. The champagne flowed and so did the conversation. People danced to the seemingly endless beat of the live bands and the d.j.’s. Some of the veneer of Wall Street and Corporate America started to fade as the evening wore on. As the saying goes, at least for that Saturday night, many members of The Pride threw their hands up in the air as if they just didn’t care. And I am sure that, at least for that night, they really didn’t care.
In many ways the party that night followed a most predictable path. Kenitra Perkins’s model friends were gorgeous enough to almost break the necks of more than a few men trying to get an extra look as they would walk by, seeming sashaying on clouds of absolute sensuality and unbelievable promise. The other single, unattached women who showed up, some called them “wannabes,” were as gorgeous, lacking only the aura that comes with the practiced expectation of adoration.
The single, and not so single, male members of The Pride made all of these young ladies feel absolutely adored. Gordon also had invited several professional athletes (given the season, the football players were in training camps, but baseball and basketball were amply represented)—good looking, engaging and wealthy young men only too happy to meet some of the female members of The Pride. For some of these athletes, these women were a welcome change from the models and aspiring actresses and team cheerleaders that they usually met.
Couples like Jerome and Charmaine, Paul and Diedre, even Gordon and Kenitra mingled and made small talk. I had been to enough of these types of events that I had no trouble enjoying myself. When I was growing up in Bergen, I never could have dreamed about being part of such a spectacular spectacle.
