Frank just shook his head, as Vic continued.
“That Rabin guy bothers me, he’s a nut and I don’t like his goddamn threats. Anyway I’ll take care of it Frank, Just give me a little time.”
Instead of going home, Vic met Mitzi at her apartment. It was a ritual that had started soon after she opened the shop in Skokie. It was also about the time Darlene was becoming pre-occupied with her work and frequently missed dinner with him and their two young boys. His schedule didn’t help. Drinks or dinners and meetings with customers were leading to arguments about their personal life. Both of them were stressed and miserable. Dinner with Mitzi, especially at her Marine Drive apartment was relaxing without pressure, but not without guilt.
They had been meeting for some time, usually on nights Darlene worked late. Tonight she greeted him at the door, wearing her work clothes, matching black slacks and cashmere sweater. Pushing a few strands of her pale blonde hair from her eyes, she handed him a martini.
“Why the sad face?”
“Tough day; I probably shouldn’t have come.”
“Oh, what can be so terrible?”
He told her about the confrontation with Howie Rabin and his concerns about raising the money to pay off Paschey Cohen.
She listened quietly, waiting without interruption, until he finished.
“How much did you say you needed?”
Looking up he raised his eyebrows and sighed.
“Twelve hundred dollars by next Thursday, and at least another twelve hundred the following week.”
Getting up she walked out of the room and returned to the couch, with a checkbook. Leaning over the coffee table, she wrote a check and handed it to him.
“You can pay me back when you get caught up. Don’t worry, my business is very good, I can afford it. Now let’s have dinner. We don’t want it overcooked.”
“You can’t do this! I can’t let you.”
“Don’t tell me what I can or cannot do,” she said quietly. “Now, let’s eat dinner.”
Howie Rabin and his partner came in earlier than usual Thursday as Frank and Vic were going over some invoices.
“How’s business Wayne?” he snarled, as he barged into Vic’s office without waiting for the girl to announce him. His sidekick lounged against the doorway.
“Watch where you’re standing,” Frank said to the thug, shoving past him on the way to his own office.
Howie watched Frank retreat and then turned to Vic. “You got my money, cocksucker?” he hissed, smashing an ashtray onto the glass desk top; the loud crash causing the office girls to shriek and jump up from their chairs.
Vic opened his desk drawer slowly, reaching for an envelope. As the drawer slid open, Frank rushed in and slammed the door behind Howie’s partner. He raised his right hand, pointing a gun above his head and fired a bullet into the wall near the ceiling. Screams erupted in the outer office.
Howie spun around as Frank pointed a German Luger at him. “Who the fuck you talking to, you piece of shit,” Frank replied waving the gun in a menacing gesture.
Howie backed away a couple of steps, his hands spreading out involuntarily in front of him as if to stop Frank. The partner, his empty hands in front of him, backed away as well.
“You see this gun?” Frank continued in a low voice, “The last time I used it, I blew a fuckin’ Nazi’s brains out. You ready for me to use it again?”
His hands still in front of him, Howie thrust his chin out, backing into Vic’s desk, gasped, “what the fuck is this? Are you a fuckin’ crazy man?” The other man stood motionless; then moved cautiously as Frank motioned with the gun directing him to stand next to Howie.
“Easy Frank,” Vic cautioned coming out from behind the desk.
His eyes focusing on Rabin, Frank murmured, “Nobody’s gonna’ talk to you like that in this office, especially this piece of crap.”
Howie looked from one brother to the other. Rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth, he growled softly, “Anything happens to me, your wives will be dead by the time you get home.”
Vic stuffed the envelope in Howie’s shirt pocket. “Here’s enough for the vig and a quarter of the principal. Now get the fuck outta’ here and tell Paschey he’ll get the rest of his money next week.”
Howie stood still, not moving until Frank lowered the gun. His hands now at his side and somewhat relaxed, he moved to the door. His eyes watching Frank’s every move. The shorter man lowered his hands slowly and followed.
As Howie reached for the doorknob, Frank raised the gun again.
“One more thing: you are never to come in this office again. If you do I’m gonna kill you. Do you understand?” he snarled.
Vic spoke up. “Tell Cohen I’ll send the money over to the coffee shop Thursday afternoon.”
Howie moved out quickly, his partner close behind. The two brothers followed them to the exit, motioning to the terrified receptionist and secretary to calm down; they’d be back in a few minutes. They watched as Howie’s guy floored the Cadillac out of the parking lot and onto the street, Vic turned to Frank.
“Jesus, you scared the hell outta me.”
“You? What about him, I think he almost shit his pants,” Frank laughed as he pulled the clip from the Luger. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but where did you get the money?”
“I can’t tell you, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, you know our deal, I take care of things, you bring in the sales.”
“Man you are something.”
The next morning, Vic arranged to meet separately with each of Wayne Distributors, manufacturers and suppliers to explain how he and Frank were using homebuilding as a major step in growing their business. Explaining it was an opportunity that would benefit them as well, because they would need to buy more from them as they expanded. At Vic’s urging most agreed to help, by extending their credit terms to ninety days, instead of the usual thirty.
Paschey walked into Wayne construction the following afternoon, accompanied by a heavyset mountain of a man who grunted a greeting.
Hearing the commotion as the girls tried to stop the two men, Vic jumped up from his desk, “It’s okay; I know them.”
The large man stood motionless at the door as Cohen walked up to the front of Vic’s desk.
“Have a seat,” Vic offered.
“I don’t need no seat, for what I gotta say,” Paschey responded, waving his unlit cigar. “I don’t like guys that fuck with me. And I don’t forget.”
“Look, Paschey, don’t send your guys over here, threatening me and breaking things. I don’t want anyone scaring the people in my office. Rabin was outta’ line and we dealt with him. From now on, either my brother or I will be at the coffee shop with your dough every Thursday until we’re through with you.”
Paschey frowned, with a short grunt, as he said, “If you don’t, you’re gonna be one sorry son of a bitch. So make sure you show up with the dough.” Spinning around, he motioned to his guy, who opened the door and followed him out.
Within two months they cleared up their loan with Paschey and Vic was able to establish a one-hundred-thousand dollar line of credit at American National at one and a half over prime..
Johnny Gallagher, the foreman of the Morton Grove construction site, called Vic at 4:00am two weeks later, reporting he had just got a call from the Village that there was a fire at the site. Vic was there in thirty minutes as the Fire Chief was walking away. The Firemen were already cleaning up.
Johnny pulled his hard hat off and ran his hand through his thick, graying hair.
“What happened,” Vic asked as he approached.
“Three houses have pretty well burned to the ground.”
“Which ones?”
“The two that were finished this week, and the one that was almost ready for drywall.”
“At least we have insurance, thank God. But it’s going to set us back on closings and we’ll be tight on cash till we get the houses rebuilt and sell the other three.”
“Paschey,” Vic muttered under his breath. “That fucker.”.
Gallagher jerked around, “You know who did this?”
“No, I think I better leave it alone. I don’t want the police involved.”
“They’re already at the site and they’ll be over here soon. You have to file a report for the insurance.”
“You’re right,” Vic said. “Let me think, but do me a favor John, don’t say anything to anyone else. I’ll talk with Frank before I make a decision.”
“Be careful Vic, you know you won’t discourage the police from investigating an arson.”
“Yeah, John, you’re right, thanks.”
“My God,” Mitzi greeted him at Sabatino’s several weeks after the fire,” I haven’t seen you for over three months. Is everything alright?”
“I guess I got all caught up in the fire and the insurance company was stalling before paying our claim. The police were also giving us a hard time too, but I finally got it straightened out, Anyway, that’s not why I wanted to see you.”
“Oh, so what’s so important?”
“First I’m sorry for not staying in touch, but I did call a few times.”
“Yes, you did, and I know you’ve been under pressure, but what’s on your mind ?”
“I want to thank you. Frank and I were really in trouble and without your loan, we would have been in worse trouble.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “There’s a cashier’s check for the loan. Frank doesn’t know about it, except that I got the money from a friend.
“Oh,” she commented stuffing the envelope in her purse. “You don’t have to explain.”
They were interrupted by a thin waitress with their drinks.
As the woman retreated, Vic handed Mitzi a small shiny bag elegantly scrolled Peacock’s. “I hope you like it. It’s my personal thank you. Not just for the loan, but for being so special for me.”
“You know that’s not necessary Victor, You are my friend. I understand what we have together troubles you.” Pausing she looked across the table, at the same time delicately removing the contents of the bag. “I love presents,” she smiled, abruptly changing the subject and loosening the white bow on the black velvet box. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered holding up the wide gold braided bracelet.
He reached across the table under her wide eyed approval of the gift, “Let me help you,” he said closing the clasp on her wrist.
Smiling she admired it. “You shouldn’t do this. You’ll spoil me.”
“You should be spoiled. I’m surprised that someone hasn’t already been after you.”
Looking down she smiled her lips clenched tightly. “Well as a matter of fact, there is a man that I’ve had dinner with a few times recently,” she replied looking up.
Leaning back, he tilted his head watching her admire the bracelet, “how come you never mentioned him before? Do I know him?”
“No, he is one of my suppliers from New York. We’ve done business for several years and when he comes to Chicago or I go to New York, we usually have dinner.”
“Hmm, I’m not surprised. I’ve often wondered why a woman as attractive as you hasn’t remarried. Is he married?”
Nervously running her tongue across her lips, she watched him arch his eyebrows. “No, he’s divorced and neither of us is interested. His life is in New York and mine is here. Let’s change the subject.”
Vic shrugged and nodded. “Okay, what’s Shayna up to these days?”
“She made the honor roll in school again and is taking French this year.”
They finished lunch chatting about their children and business, avoiding discussion of her new dinner companion or when they would meet again. In the parking lot he hugged her quickly kissing her cheek. Then watched and waved as she pulled her sleek black Jaguar out of the lot.
Returning to the office, Vic closed the door, telling the girls to hold his calls and take messages. Mitzi Rubin occupied his thoughts. She was extremely alluring today, yet somewhat aloof. He sensed a different kind of love for her, knowing somehow things between them had changed when he borrowed the money He still loved being close to her and talking about personal things, yet he knew that the intimate relationship they shared was over. It was a time for her to move on and he could no longer carry the burden of guilt that had built up because of her. He loved her, but from now on he knew she would only be his special friend.
By the time the project in Morton Grove was completed, all six houses were sold and the Wayne’s managed a net profit of twenty-one thousand dollars. The supply business also showed an increase of twelve percent.
The following year, they built another twenty-four homes in Morton Grove, raised the prices by twenty-five hundred dollars per unit and by avoiding most of the previous year’s mistakes and delays, they cleared a profit of almost a hundred thousand. Wayne Supply also benefited from its role as Wayne Construction’s biggest supplier.
In 1958, the brothers decided that it was time to expand into larger construction and sold Wayne Supply to one of their competitors to raise the necessary cash.
Frank began selling concepts for residential developments and apartment buildings to several investment groups. As they took on larger projects, Vic devoted his time to buying vacant property and directing architects, engineers and tradesmen. As each job was completed, they poured a large amount of profit back into the company to buy better land and more equipment, in the hope that Wayne Construction would become one of Chicago’s better builders.
Chapter 18
A big turnout was expected at Vic’s tenth year class reunion being held in the ballroom of the Sovereign Hotel on Granville near Sheridan.
The night of the party, Darlene and Vic arrived soon after the doors to the ballroom opened. Approaching the entrance, they searched for friends in the already crowded hall. Large decorations in the school colors of red and grey filled the room and the tables were set with centerpieces of low vases of red roses intertwined with grey ribbons. Above, crystal chandeliers sparkled in the famous ballroom that had been the scene of many open dances sponsored by Girl’s clubs from school, when they were students. A large banner over the bandstand welcomed the Von Steuben Class of 1948.
The eight piece band was playing Frankie Laine’s “That’s My Desire” as young people milled about shaking hands, hugging and kissing as they re-lived happy memories. All were laughing and crying out as old friends slapped backs and embraced.
Vic tried to take in the whole scene, recognizing many people he hadn’t seen in years. Spotting Didi Pollack and Jean Michaelson, he looked for Shirley, thinking she would be close by. Not seeing her, he turned back to Darlene, taking her arm and headed into the crowd.
The women looked elegant, showing off swept-up curls or long page-boy hair styles and slinky dark dresses. The men all wore suits, appearing prosperous and confident. Gone were the club jackets, blue jeans, heavy boots, long skirts and sweaters of the high school years; they had become a much more sophisticated, well-dressed group of bright-faced young adults.
Vic had on a black shadow-stripe suit with a red paisley tie that Darlene had picked out for him especially for the occasion. Wanting to look his best, especially when greeting many of the friends he had known since grade school, he had gone to the Palmer House barber shop the day before to have his hair cut and nails manicured. Darlene was in a new, tight-fitting black dress, its low-cut back showing off her curvaceous figure and shapely legs. Her hair was swept up in back into a cascade of curls, accentuating her high cheekbones and br
ight smile. As he watched her accept a glass of champagne from the waiter’s tray, Vic was sorry they weren’t alone.
Jim Vogel, in his role as the Reunion Committee Chair, was standing near the entrance to the room with a big grin. He greeted Vic with a slap on the shoulder and kissed Darlene’s cheek. “Goddammit, Wayne, your wife’s gotten even more beautiful since your wedding. How is that possible?”
Darlene blushed as Esther, Jim’s high school sweetheart and now wife, walked up, six months pregnant and smiling as usual. .They found chairs for the ladies and the men went for drinks. As they returned with vodkas on the rocks for themselves and Darlene and a Coke for Esther, Vic saw Shirley and Howie Rabin coming in. Shirley waved to someone across the room and started in that direction, stopping to kiss and hug several women and introducing her husband along the way.
She looked spectacular. She had on a short black sequined jacket over a low cut black dress. Her hair was a soft shade of blonde and Vic noticed that the small bump on her nose was no longer visible; probably surgically removed, making her resemble the movie actress Virginia Mayo.
Howie looked sharp but tense. Vic noticed that more than a few women appeared to be eyeing his good looks and how his tall, slim build complimented his grey sharkskin suit. Vic could tell that Howie noticed him too, but he was smooth about it; sticking close to Shirley and holding her arm as he moved alongside her but remaining aloof with her friends.
Sam Greenstein and his wife Fran had joined Darlene and Esther. Sam winked at Vic and tilted his head in Shirley’s direction. Vic returned the look with a little grimace. He turned to say something to Darlene, but she was already three steps ahead of him. She winked back at Sam, nudging Vic in the ribs, saying, “Your old girlfriend looks pretty good.”
Vic leaned in, pinching her thigh, and whispering. “You’ve got nothing to worry about Dearie.”
Slapping away his hand, she gave him a peck on the cheek. “Go easy on the vodka,” she said. “Didn’t you have one before we left the apartment?”
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