LoveMakers

by Gould, Judith

  She knew that if she did not get the Shelburne today, in all probability it would forever elude her.

  The time to buy property and buildings had never been better. All over the country, the real estate market was as depressed as it had ever been. Without an end to the Depression in sight, buildings went begging. Even so the Shelburne was one of those unique buildings that, unless you were blessed with exceptional luck, was forever out of reach.

  But luck was smiling upon Elizabeth-Anne. She could feel it. In order to make buying the Shelburne an affordable reality, all she and Larry had to do was drag out the negotiations until a few minutes before five.

  She felt a cramping stab of pain in her intestines. How much longer did she have to wait until five o'clock? She felt she had been sitting at the table forever. At ten o'clock that morning, three other parties had converged upon the Shelburne along with her in order to bid on the hotel. Negotiations had dragged on all morning, and Milton Shelburne had been playing it close to the chest, never budging from his asking price. Elizabeth-Anne, who knew of his financial predicament, couldn't help but admire him for his bravado, but the three other bidders eventually got annoyed. One by one, they had left, two of them withdrawing their initial offers and the third hotelier telling Shelburne that his offer still stood, should he be interested.

  Elizabeth-Anne's hopes had soared. What the hotelier hadn't realized was that Shelburne only had until five o'clock to conclude the deal. What remained now was in the hands of fate. If Shelburne reached that hotelier in time, then the Shelburne Hotel would elude her. On the other hand, if he couldn't reach him . . .

  She exhaled slowly, silently. It occurred to her that it was poetic justice that both she and Milton Shelburne should wear the exact same armor - seemingly infinite patience and a look of total nonchalant ease.

  So far, she, Larry, and their two lawyers had not so much as submitted a single monetary bid. They had merely sat back quietly and let the others haggle. She had planned to wait until the very last minute, as if she would then top the highest offer Shelburne had received. She had felt, correctly, that any bargaining on their part would only serve to push the price up. Their silence had not gone unnoticed by the others, and especially not by Milton Shelburne. Their presence only seemed to weaken the others' positions and strengthen Shelburne's, who believed he would be rewarded for holding out. It never occurred to him that Elizabeth-Anne had discovered his Achilles' heel.

  In prosperous times Shelburne's fortune had accumulated to a staggering sum, but very little was composed of real money. He had owned large parcels of commercial real estate through Manhattan and Brooklyn, and had watched the Crash, the Depression, and the banks gobble up his properties, one by one. His credit had always been good, and he had originally amassed his wealth by overextending at the banks; he was well-known for buying marginally and for making swift thrust-and-parry deals. By keeping every building and property he owned totally separate from the others, each run by a differently incorporated company, he had set things up so that should the worst ever happen and any number of his companies topple, the rest would remain staunch and strong. But even he had not been able to predict a calamity on the scale of the Depression. His empire did not, perhaps, topple all at once, but it fell ignobly in bits and pieces. The Shelburne Hotel was his last holding, as well as the single most valuable piece of real estate he had owned. As the others had been, it was mortgaged to the hilt. Ever since his empire had begun crumbling he had quietly sought a buyer for the Shelburne, but one thing or another had always come up. Either his asking price had been too high, or his potential buyers bowed out at the last moment. When he had finally found someone serious, a cruel twist of fate had ruined that opportunity as well. The day the papers were to be signed, his buyer had found himself bankrupt overnight. It was one of the harsh realities of the Depression, but the fact that those occurrences were commonplace hadn't made it any easier a pill to swallow. It seemed to him that his financial future was doomed.

  Until now.

  His decision to auction off the hotel had created sufficient interest for four potential buyers to show up and bid on it. The fact that two of them had backed off and walked out didn't worry him. After all, one offer still stood. And, from what he had heard about Elizabeth-Anne, she was grabbing up property all over the place as if there were no tomorrow. Her presence could only indicate one thing: She was serious. She meant to end up with the Shelburne Hotel.'

  His fatal mistake was that he didn't know just how serious she was.

  He glanced casually to his left trying to read her thoughts. Just as she had all day, she appeared calm, quiet. She sat tall and straight, her dark suit, pale blouse, and rope of pearls conveying an air of sedate financial solidity. Her aquamarine eyes were veiled with a faraway look and the slight, dark circles caused by the past two grueling days were artfully hidden by carefully applied powder. She looked, for all the world, like a spectator watching a stage play with only the mildest amusement.

  Aware that Shelburne's gaze had shifted to her, Elizabeth-Anne kept herself composed. When she felt his eyes wandering away from her, she glanced at Larry. Then she frowned at some papers, and shuffled them in front of her. It was a subtle way to check her wristwatch without appearing to do so. She pursed her lips thoughtfully before finally speaking.

  'Of course,' Elizabeth-Anne said slowly, 'we would all like to get this matter settled as quickly as possible.' She frowned at the papers in front of her. 'What worries me, and I know it worries Mr. Hochstetter also, is that the patronage of the Shelburne has declined markedly over the past year. And from glancing through the books, the operating expenses are very high. The Shelburne requires an extraordinarily large working capital.'

  'The Shelburne is a first class hotel,' Milton Shelburne put in smoothly. 'The staff could always be trimmed.' He inclined his head in Elizabeth-Anne's direction and permitted himself a faint smile. 'From what I have heard about you Mrs. Hale, you're very proficient at trimming costs without visibly sacrificing any services.'

  'Be that as it may, the Shelburne is an entirely different ball game from my other hotels.' Elizabeth-Anne rattled the papers in her hand. 'My other hotels are more modest and easily manageable. The Shelburne, as you know, is one of this city's largest hotels with over seven hundred suites and rooms, many of which require extensive remodeling and renovation. The public areas have become rather seedy as well and require a considerable investment.

  Frankly, I'm worried that I may have a difficult time operating the hotel as well as paying a heavy price for it.'

  'But you haven't even mentioned a price yet,' the senior partner of Shelburne's two lawyers pointed out.

  'No, I haven't.' Elizabeth-Anne picked up a pencil and scribbled a few doodles in the margin of one of her papers. Then she pulled back her suit sleeve and looked pointedly at her wristwatch. 'Gentlemen, I'm afraid it is getting late. I suggest we break off for today and continue again in the morning.' She made as though to rise.

  'Wait.' The blood drained from Shelburne's face. 'I'm sure we can come to some sort of satisfactory agreement.' Shocked at Elizabeth-Anne's suggestion, he was for the first time feeling the noose of panic tightening around him.

  Elizabeth-Anne held her breath and watched Larry closely. The trap was about to be sprung, but Larry's face was completely devoid of expression. Even now that the time to pull off the coup was at hand, no matter how much excitement they felt, they would keep it subdued and continue about business in a totally unemotional and impassive manner. Business, Elizabeth-Anne and Larry both knew, allowed no room for emotions.

  'In that case, Mr. Shelburne,' Elizabeth-Anne said quietly, 'let me make you our offer.' She glanced at Shelburne's banker and his lawyers. 'Gentlemen, I am offering to assume the mortgage on the Shelburne as it stands now. I also offer to pay you, Mr. Shelburne, the amount of sixty-five thousand dollars in cash.'

  Shelburne looked as though he had been struck. Then he gave a hollow, mirthless
little laugh. 'You're joking, of course.'

  Elizabeth-Anne shook her head. 'No, Mr. Shelburne. I never joke about business matters. I am dead serious.'

  'But. . . but that is preposterous,' Shelburne sputtered.

  'Is it?' Elizabeth-Anne folded her hands in front of her and leaned across the table toward Shelburne, her eyes gleaming with a hardness Larry had never before seen, and which he now found extremely interesting. It emphasized to him just how much she really had learned and grown since they had met.

  'Mr. Shelburne,' Elizabeth-Anne said patiently, 'the outstanding unpaid mortgage on this hotel is still a quarter of a million dollars. When you purchased it, you paid a hundred and fifty thousand dollars down, and over the past ten years, you have paid off another quarter of a million of the principal. I needn't remind you that money is in short supply at the moment, or that the market for real estate has plunged. And much as I hate to have to bring it up, I have checked around, Mr. Shelburne. You are in no position to bargain, nor to turn down the offered sum. You are, in fact, dirt poor. If you do not accept my offer, which will at least pay you sixty-five thousand dollars, not only will you lose this hotel in . . . ' Elizabeth-Anne pointedly consulted her watch, then looked back up and met Shelburne's eyes, 'in twelve minutes, but you will not even have the satisfaction of having sold it. You will see it repossessed, and who knows? I might even get a better bargain if I wait a few more minutes.' She paused, and her voice grew softer, almost pitying. Look at it this way, Mr. Shelburne. You have one of two choices open to you: make sixty-five thousand dollars, or lose everything.'

  Shelburne was trapped, and he knew it. 'Who told you about five o'clock?' he whispered hoarsely, his face pale. 'Did you?' His head snapped accusingly toward his banker, a gaunt, brittle man with a high, sloping forehead. At the moment, he projected not so much the image of a banker as that of an undertaker.

  'No.' The man answered, shaking his head and clearly milled by the suggestion. 'The First Mutual Bank of Manhattan, as you well know, is the very soul of discretion.'

  'Well, somebody must have leaked the word,' Shelburne snapped. He was suddenly sweating profusely, beads of perspiration popping out all over his forehead. He tugged his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and unceremoniously mopped his face. Then he got unsteadily to his feet and turned to Elizabeth-Anne. 'I'm afraid that I must refuse your offer,' he told her with weak dignity. He smiled stiffly at her, then at his banker. 'I think you are both forgetting that I've had another offer for four times that amount earlier this very afternoon.' He allowed the faintest smile of relief to hover at the corners of his lips. 'And that offer still stands. You all heard it being made.'

  'We heard it, yes, and you stand to make four times what I offer if you accept before five o'clock,' Elizabeth-Anne reminded him. 'Don't forget, after five the bank will repossess the Shelburne, and it will belong to them. Not to you.'

  Milton Shelburne stared at her, realization dawning. 'You tricked me,' he hissed. 'You dragged things out all afternoon just to trap me.'

  Elizabeth-Anne looked at him with a stony expression. 'Call it whatever you wish,' she said easily, 'but remember, our offer still stands. Until five o'clock on the dot, that is. You have ten minutes, Mr. Shelburne, in which to conclude your deal with the other party. Whether or not you decide to deal with us is entirely up to you. However, at precisely five o'clock, if you have not accepted our offer, it will be withdrawn.'

  Shelburne turned to his lawyers. 'She can do this? And get away with it?'

  They nodded wordlessly, avoiding his eyes.

  'This . . . this is sheer lunacy.' Shelburne's voice rose with indignation.

  With deliberate slowness, Elizabeth-Anne pushed back her chair, got to her feet, walked to the foot of the table, and picked up the telephone. Whipping the cord around, she brought the telephone to Milton Shelburne and set it on the table in front of him. 'You are welcome to call the other party and accept their offer immediately.' She looked at Shelburne challengingly. 'However, should that deal fall through for any reason, you are still free to accept our offer, as long as it is before five o'clock. Either way, you can't lose.' She amended that statement gravely: 'Well, at least not everything.'

  Shelburne licked his lips and stared down at the telephone.

  'Call,' Shelburne's banker urged. 'For God's sake, Mr. Shelburne, place the call.'

  With trembling fingers, Shelburne reached for the telephone and dialed.

  For a moment, Elizabeth-Anne had to shut her eyes. It was almost more than she could bear. This was not business. This was a jungle with no rules and no laws. She felt heavy with guilt, at the same time she knew her actions were necessary, fair. Hadn't it been Shelburne himself who had refused the other offer to begin with because he had been so certain she would top it? His greed and lack of acumen was causing his downfall, not her.

  'Get me through to Mr. Spencer.' Shelburne's voice was high-pitched with tension. 'Tell him it's urgent.'

  Everyone looked away from him, unable to witness his growing misery.

  'What do you mean he hasn't come back this afternoon? He left here hours ago! You've got to know where I can reach him . . . ' His voice cracked. ' . . . Well, if he gets in before five o'clock, have him call me.'

  Elizabeth-Anne let out a weary sigh. There was no sweetness in this victory. Her intestines were as knotted as they had been all day.

  Shelburne let the receiver drop from his hand. It landed on the table with a clatter as he sank back down into his chair.

  The minutes seemed to crawl by. No one spoke. Everyone kept glancing at their watches and staring at the telephone.

  The telephone did not ring. By 4.59, Mr. Spencer still had not called.

  At precisely five o'clock, Milton Shelburne buried his face in his hands. 'All right, Mrs. Hale,' he whispered hoarsely, his voice muffled by his fingers. 'I accept your offer.'

  Just before nine o'clock Elizabeth-Anne finally laid down her pen and pushed the last of the papers away from her. 'There,' she said softly.

  She didn't show it, but she couldn't remember a time when she'd been as relieved to get something over with. The two days she had now been awake, and the tension of the Shelburne negotiations, topped by Milton Shelburne's heart-wrenching defeat, had taken their toll on her.

  Nothing sounded more pleasant than to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep as long as she pleased.

  But she wasn't only tired. She felt frightened too. Sixty- five thousand dollars up front, as well as assuming a mortgage of a quarter of a million dollars, may have been a bargain, but the amount of money she had just spent staggered her. She knew too that refurbishing the hotel to its former grandeur - which she felt must be done, would require another staggering sum. Nor had any of her other properties been bought outright. All except the tourist court in Quebeck were partially financed. Larry's motto had always been to use OPM - Other People's Money - whenever possible. OPM had its definite advantages, to be sure. It could also, however, lead to disaster. A deeply rooted fear kept gnawing at her: should the rich vein at the gold mine peter out, and Horseshoe Investments collapse, she would find herself in the exact same straits as Milton Shelburne. 'Gentlemen,' she said in a weary but sure voice, 'I think it's time we called it a day, don't you?' She smiled thinly at them.

  They nodded. Shelburne himself had left hours before, signing the necessary papers and leaving the rest to his lawyers. Now they, as well as the rest of his and Elizabeth- Anne's negotiating teams, placed their copies of the contracts in their briefcases, snapped them shut, and rose to their feet. Each man perfunctorily shook her hand and murmured congratulations before filing out of the room.

  As soon as Elizabeth-Anne and Larry were alone, the big room seemed empty and oppressive. Elizabeth-Anne allowed herself to show just how drained and exhausted she was. She took a deep, noisy breath and sank down into the maroon leather chair she had occupied all day. Her eyes were burning in their sockets and she rubbed them with her knuckles.
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br />   'You're tired,' Larry said.

  She nodded, tilted her head back, and shut her eyes.

  Larry came over and stood behind her chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders. 'Let's go home,' he said. 'You've had a tough day.'

  'I'll be all right,' she said. 'Just give me another minute.'

  'We're in no hurry.' He began massaging her back, rubbing her knotted muscles with firm circular motions of his fingers. 'You don't look very happy,' he said, 'but that doesn't surprise me. It's like postpartum depression. I can't remember a time when I haven't felt depressed after pulling off a deal like this. Still, I must congratulate you. Together, we've managed one of the biggest business coups of the Depression. You bought this hotel for a fraction of its real market value.'

  'I know that. And it bothers me.' She let out a strangled sigh as he continued massaging her back. 'Business is business, and I'll not forget that. It's Darwinism, pure and simple. The survival of the fittest. But I don't have to like it.'

  'No, you don't.' He paused, his fingers suddenly still on her back. 'But do you think for an instant,' he asked her, 'that if the shoe were on the other foot Shelburne would have hesitated to take you to the cleaners?'

  'No, I don't doubt that either.' She reached up, covered his hands with hers, and held them on her shoulders. 'I'm frightened, Larry.'

  He chuckled, 'Why?'

  'For one, the survival of the fittest. Today I was the fittest.' She twisted around to look up at him. 'But what about tomorrow? Where will I be then?'

  He knew she didn't expect an answer. 'And the other reasons?' he asked.

  'I suppose it's because the numbers all add up to so much. And because paying off what I owe is all tied in to Horseshoe Investments. Larry, what if the gold mine should dry up? What then?'

  'Then we're both sunk,' he said grimly. 'But I don't think that will happen. Not for a long time. Bear in mind that in business you've got to run ahead of the tide, and that's exactly what you're doing. There are times to be conservative, and times to be daring. The trick is to know which way to lean. Today was one of the times to be daring, and it paid off.' He leaned down and kissed the nape of her neck. 'It's healthy never to grow overconfident, but you can only worry so much before you worry yourself sick.'