by Paul Byers
“You know,” Williams said, with a smug look and equally smug tone, “there has been some talk of me running for the Presidency next year?”
Cain nodded, then leaned slightly forward as if giving more emphasis to his words. “When the nation sees your wisdom and forethought with this project, who but you could they turn to, to lead them? You are not only the natural choice, you are the only choice!”
Williams leaned back in his chair, allowing his mind to wander for a moment, imagining himself being on Pennsylvania Avenue on a brisk, January inaugural morning. “And of course,” Cain almost whispered, planting a seed, “you’ll have the full resources of Cain Industries to help you get there.”
The Senator broke out in laughter. “You silver tongued devil, you’re almost as good as me. It’s a good thing you don’t have any political ambitions.”
“Who says I don’t.” Cain replied coyly.
Williams paused for moment and looked at Cain, sizing up the statement, then both men burst out laughing. Williams shook his finger at Cain like he was reprimanding a wayward child.
“Well.” Cain stood. “I must be going.”
Williams stood to shake his hand. “I will see you there later. You know me, I have to arrive fashionably late to get the best press coverage.” He smiled.
“Oh, you’re still planning on being my guest on the iceberg aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good,” Cain replied and headed for the door. As he was leaving he heard Williams shouting. “BOBBY…..”
Chapter Twelve
Pike had just stepped out the front door of the hotel and glanced down at his watch, 9:45 on the dot. As he looked up, he saw the same black limousine that he’d seen at the airport come gliding up to the curb. Before he had taken even three steps, the doorman was already there, holding the door open and tipping his hat, bidding him a good evening.
When he got in, Mallory was wearing a low cut designer dress that made her look like a Hollywood starlet. Cain looked like the all-powerful movie mogul.
“You look very handsome,” Mallory said, “if a little uncomfortable.”
“I clean up well, and yes, black tie affairs are not my strong suit, no pun intended.”
“A glass of champagne to help fortify you against the perils of tonight?” Cain said, holding up a half full crystal flute.
Pike took the flute then held it in his hands. He hesitated for moment then spoke. “I don’t drink Mr. Cain, but then from what I’ve seen so far, I suspect you already knew that.”
Cain smiled. “You guessed correctly, Mr. Pike. I like to know as much as possible about the people who work for me, especially those in the public spotlight. I have a lot of money but for a man in my position, there is one thing that is far more valuable than cold hard cash—public perception.” Cain leaned back and took a sip of champagne and then explained.
“I could have the cure for cancer in the palm of my hand and be ready to give it away, but if the public perceives it as some kind of trick or a way for me to make a quick, dishonest buck, they’d fight me every step of the way, not only hurting themselves but everyone else as well.
“Take this champagne for instance.” Cain said as he held it up. “I can take it, put it in a cheap bottle, mass produce it, advertise it as a “party drink” and make money. Or, I can take the same champagne, put it in a nicer bottle, wrap it in a fancy label and advertise it for the ‘discriminating, sophisticated palate,’ charge only an arm for it instead of an arm and a leg, again perception of a good value, and make even more money. Why? Public perception is what drives the market place. If they perceive that it’s a good value or good for them, they will accept it and embrace it. If not, no amount of PR in the world will change their mind.
“Right now, like it or not, you are the face of this venture. So even though I am doing a great service to humanity here by bringing them fresh water, if you were a fake or had a hidden agenda, John Q. Public would look right past all the good I’m trying to accomplish and focus on you. They would lose their vision of the big picture and all the benefits by clouding their minds with details that don’t have anything to do with the project. All they would see is the wife beater or drug dealer and start to wonder if a guy like that is doing the final inspection, how safe can it really be? Why should we put our faith in you, Mr. Cain, when you have people like that working for you?
“But to answer the question you are really asking is, why did I offer it to you if I know you don’t drink? I study humanity, the human condition if you will.” Cain put his glass down and leaned forward, clearly pleased to be talking about one of his favorite subjects.
“At first I used it as a strategy to get ahead in the business world. If I could read the other person during a negotiation then I held a huge advantage; I could either go in for the kill or cut my losses and move on. But after a while it became more than just a business tool. We are all creatures of habit, Mr. Pike. If you take away our routines, our habits we find comfort in, do we become different creatures? If you are out of your element, do you adapt and change to your new surroundings or do you hold steadfast to your old ways?”
“So you want to see if people’s behaviors change with their circumstances?” Pike said, holding up the glass. “Are you talking about situational ethics? Are good people good only because they have to be in their circumstance or because they really are? Or are you more interested in a version of the Chaos Theory or Butterfly Effect?”
Mallory set down her glass and joined in the conversation. “Chaos? Let me tell you about what I know about the Chaos Theory. My wedding, oh my gosh. It was the hottest day of the year and all the flowers were starting to wilt. The caterer was there in plenty of time to set up…with the wrong food! So they had to rush back and get the right order and they had to set up during our vows. Nothing is more romantic than saying I love you punctuated by the sound of a ladle banging inside a steel pot. The wedding cake was stuck in traffic and by the time it arrived, it looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa; and that’s not all.” She said, taking another drink.
“One of my Bride’s Maids got frisky with one of the Groomsmen the night before and she had hickeys all over her neck, and I mean ALL over. And to top it all off, I grabbed the wrong make-up; I thought I was putting on the waterproof mascara. Wrong! So when I started crying, my mascara ran all down my face and I looked like Alice Cooper.”
Mallory punctuated the story with another drink, a big drink, reliving the joy of her wedding. Pike and Cain both looked at each other, then at Mallory, and then burst into laughter. Mallory shot both of them a hard stare and instantly a silence so profound filled the limousine, you could hear the proverbial pin drop.
She tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t. The hard stare turned into a twinkle and all three exploded in laughter. “Chaos, yeah I know about your Chaos Theory,” Mallory said, “but I’ve never heard about the Butterfly Effect.”
“The basic idea is that seemingly small, unrelated events can have huge and dramatic effects on one another.” Cain began. “The thought is, that as a butterfly flaps its wings, it’s creating tiny changes in the atmosphere and that these tiny changes could ultimately alter the path of a tornado. The flapping of the wings is the spark that ignites the chain of events. So, if the butterfly hadn’t have flapped its wings, the storm might not have moved or maybe not even existed at all.”
“Or, in this case,” Pike said as he raised his glass that started the whole conversation, “No spinning of the moral compass, no chaos or butterflies…simply good manners.”
Cain smiled as raised his glass. “Touché.”
Chapter Thirteen
Prepare yourself.” Mallory patted Pike on the knee as the limousine pulled in front of the hotel.
“Oh he’ll do just fine.” Cain said as they rolled to a stop and he popped open the door. Immediately he was assaulted by a barrage of reporters and flashbulbs. Cain turned and held out his hand and helped
Mallory out; another wave of lighting erupted from the cameras.
Pike didn’t want to move; he felt safe and protected in his little cocoon. Suddenly he had an odd thought. Is this what a baby feels like right before birth? Not wanting to leave the safety and comfort of the womb for the big unknown? In this case, he knew he definitely didn’t want to walk toward the light. But life wouldn’t wait, and in this case neither would Cain. Pike took a deep breath and emerged into his “new” life and once again night was turned into day by the flashes.
They were standing on the literal red carpet with gold stanchions on either side, linked with red velvet ropes that led from the car to the hotel entrance. Pike was paralyzed by the moment, trying to take it all in. Looking up, he could see three large grid works hanging from the front of the building right above the entrance, showcased by bright lights. Perched on the center of the foyer roof, welcoming all visitors, was a larger than life statue of a silver winged angel. Looking at it, he was reminded of a giant hood ornament. Above the angel in bright gold letters was the name of the hotel, Waldorf-Astoria.
While working and living the Seattle area, he was used to the big city but this was getting to be a bit too much to take in. Not only was he actually staying at the famous Plaza hotel, here he was standing on the red carpet, attending a charity event at the equally famous Waldorf-Astoria. The only thing his brain could relate this to was watching the Oscars on TV. Only he wasn’t watching it, he was living it. He gazed over the vast sea of people, heads bobbing up and down like the tide, all struggling to get a glimpse of whoever the next limousine would disgorge, taking pictures or shouting out questions in hopes of being heard. As he stared at the sea of faces, it suddenly occurred to him, that there was not one person here he wouldn’t consider beautiful, they all looked so perfect.
The men, all in their finely tailored suits and tuxedos were dressed to the nines and the women were dressed up for each other as much as for the camera, clothed in exquisite evening gowns that he bet cost more than a year’s salary for him. Even the reporters looked good in their tuxedos and low cut evening gowns. There was probably more silicon here than in Silicon Valley Pike thought to himself.
“Breathe.” Mallory said, taking Pike by the arm and gently urging him forward. Even though they were walking through the roped off section, the reporters were still pressing in, shoving the microphones in his face as if anything he had to say would be newsworthy.
Cain was leading the way, fielding questions and running interference. Pike felt like a running back picking his way through the defenders with the goal in sight. Just ten more feet and they would be at the revolving door, then home free. Just as he thought he might get through the line untouched, he was blindsided by an over anxious reporter who took the rope and stanchions with him as he leaned in and grabbed Pike by the arm.
Pike looked at him for moment and then the light of recognition turn on. The reporter smiled, pleased that Pike had recognized him. Pike recognized him all right…Toupee Man!
“Mr. Pike. Is this giant iceberg that Mr. Cain wants to bring into New York harbor really safe? Aren’t there major environmental and safety issues here?”
You’re about to have a major safety issue here, Pike wanted to say but didn’t. “I don’t know about the environmental issues.” Pike replied flatly. “All I’m concerned about is the safety issues and from what I’ve seen so far, there shouldn’t be any reason for concern. Now if you will excuse us.” Pike pushed the microphone away with his left hand and guided Mallory through with his right, as they continued on and disappeared into the hotel.
When they were safely in the confines of the hotel, Mallory turned to Pike. “I know you don’t like the press Gabe, but your answers shouldn’t be so curt.”
“On the contrary.” Cain said as he joined them. “They’re animals tonight,” he said as he straightened up his jacket.
Mallory looked at him. “You love it, Ringmaster.”
Cain just smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment. “As I was saying, Gabriel, your answer back there was perfect.”
“And what do you mean by perfect?” Mallory asked. “How so? You’ve always said that we need the press and we have to woo them. Gabe’s answer sounded more like wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
Pike stifled a chuckle as Cain continued. “The press expect schmoozing from you or I, not from Gabriel here. He gave the no-nonsense-down-to-business answer that an engineer would give. If he would have given the politically correct answer then they, the public, would begin to lose their trust in him and begin to doubt his authenticity and credibility.”
Pike looked at Mallory and puffed up his chest a little and sported a small smirk.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Mallory said, “you just got lucky this time.”
“True enough, but I’d rather be lucky than good.”
“Now, now children,” Cain interjected, “I can’t take you two anywhere.”
“I’m hungry, let’s go eat.” Mallory said in mock indignation and started walking up the stairs. Cain and Pike followed but after a few steps, Pike slowed. As he ascended the stairs, the true elegance of the hotel began to be revealed. Hanging in the lobby was a massive chandelier surrounded on the wall by ten huge murals.
Reaching the top of the stairs, the room opened and Pike found himself standing on an eighteen-foot circular mosaic. He couldn’t help but stare at his surroundings. He felt like a tourist gawking at the sites but the detail and craftsmanship were just too great to dismiss with a simple, passing glance.
“Living here, sometimes we take things for granted.” Cain said, standing beside Pike.
“The architectural design and attention to detail is magnificent.” Pike said.
“The murals and the mosaic are all the work of the renowned French artist Louis Rigal. It took him over a year to complete all the murals and there are over 148,000 pieces of marble in his famous Wheel of Life mosaic. The Waldorf was the largest hotel in the world when it opened in 1931. Come on.” Cain said, with a tilt of his head. “I want to show you the best part in the main lobby.”
Main Lobby? Pike thought. This isn’t the main lobby? He followed Cain, wondering what could be better than this. Within a few moments, he had his answer. Standing before him in the center of the lobby was a nine-foot tall monster that weighed nearly two tons.
“This is amazing.” Pike said in awe.
“It was built for the1893 Chicago World’s Fair by the Goldsmith Company of London and purchased by the Waldorf-Astoria as the focal point for the original hotel, where the Empire State building now stands. The eight-sided base has the likenesses of eight US Presidents and Queen Victoria, and is topped by the Statue of Liberty.” Mallory rattled off.
“Wow, what times does the next tour start?” Pike joked.
Mallory smiled, “Sorry, I’ve been here over a dozen times playing tour guide, entertaining Nigel’s guests.”
“Yeah, I get that way too sometimes when I have friends from out of town and they all want to go to the Space Needle or my namesake, Pike Place Market.”
“You know,” Cain said, I heard they were going to remove Queen Victoria’s image from the clock and replace it with yours.”
Pike shot Cain a dirty look then went back to examining the clock. He studied it for a few more minutes, then noticed the throngs of people moving in and out. “Is it always this busy in here?”
“It’s probably busier than usual because of the banquet tonight.” Mallory replied.
“Just how many people are attending?”
“About 1500 or so.”
“1500! Where are we eating, Madison Square Garden?” Pike said.
Cain looked at Mallory and they both smiled. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Pike followed Cain and Mallory as they joined the stream of people moving toward the banquet room. They were stopped several times along the way by businessmen wanting an inside scoop, a Congressman’s aid wanting to set up an appo
intment for his boss and a pair of women who discretely passed Cain a business card as they went by. It was easy to tell that they had more than business on their minds. Not breaking stride, Cain accepted the card then discreetly handed it to Mallory who just as discreetly torn it in half and tossed it in a waste can as they walked by.
Pike shook his head. This life style was so foreign to him; he felt small and insignificant in this high profile world of power and politics. He was a minnow swimming in a pond full of sharks and barracudas. He looked over at Cain and was glad he was swimming with the Megalodon.
They approached a huge set of doors that was devouring people at an amazing rate. As they stepped through into a room so large, for a moment Pike really thought they were in The Garden. The room was 30 to 40 feet high and ornately decorated, filled with row after row of tables covered with gleaming white tablecloths, surrounded by simple, yet elegant low, round-back chairs. But the most amazing site was that the room was surrounded by balconies, jutting out from the walls, reminding him of the Galactic Senate room from Star Wars, Attack of the Clones. He half turned to Mallory, while still staring in wonderment at the room. “Okay, Beth, I’ll take that tour lecture now please.”
Mallory smiled. While she did tire of repeating the same thing over and over again, she never did get tired of the expression that first-timers had when they saw the Grand Ballroom. “Soaring four stories high, it’s the only two-tiered ballroom in New York City.” Mallory recited her speech with a little more enthusiasm than usual, enjoying Pikes wonder. “It is the embodiment of grandeur and beauty as the Grand Ballroom is a re-creation of the Court Theatre in Versailles, a magnificent setting, where every occasion achieves greatness. The Grand Ballroom can accommodate as many as 1,500 guests with its unique rows of opera balconies.”
