“How did you meet her?” she asked, softly tracing the outline of her own lips. I caught myself watching her and grappled to keep my focus on her question. After a moment, I began to speak, ignoring the universal rule never to speak about exes on a first date. Audrey gave me her full attention. She nodded while I explained my desire to find a partner, and I described my trip to Russia. She leaned in, perching her head on her palm, as I described how it all ended. Though I normally avoided discussing Talia in front of Johnny, I allowed myself to open up to Audrey because, for the first time, she genuinely seemed interested in what I had to say. When I finished, she reached over and condescendingly patted my hand.
“I’ve heard stories like yours before, Paul, and it’s so troubling to find how common they are. You have to be careful.”
“I know. Now, I know.” I looked down at her hand, resting in mine. Her skin was soft, and her fingers were long and slender. She could be a hand model I thought, if she lost the glittery nail polish.
I continued my story in between sips of iced tea and on into lunch. I explained how Talia and I still spoke almost every night, mostly about Johnny, and despite everything we'd gone through, we still remained friends who supported one another, even though we found ourselves on different paths. While I spoke, Johnny began to draw his third illustration thanks to the crayons provided by our distracted waitress. And Audrey's phone rang again. In my mid-sentence, she turned her total attention to the phone, pushed a few buttons, and the ringing stopped. Then she forced her attention back to me.
“It didn’t matter that Talia and I hadn’t worked out,” I said, picking up the thread of the story. “We managed to do one thing perfectly right,” glancing at Johnny. When I finished, I turned the conversation to Audrey’s ex-husband.
“So, now it’s your turn. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your story?” I wondered if I had shared too much, or talked too much. She looked back at me, and took a deep breath.
Audrey calmly began to tell about her ex-husband, Joe Munson, to whom she had been married for over ten years. She described how they initially met and fell in love, like all love stories begin, but also how, with the passage of time, the passion vanished with nothing left to show of their love, save for their children. According to Audrey, Joe was a terrific father, but a lousy husband. He was immature, disconnected, and uninterested in her. I thought for a moment how well our exes would get along.
I nodded with empathy while Audrey talked, and noticed she looked down at her food a lot, seeming to be uncomfortable with the conversation.
“We don’t have to talk about this, if you’d rather not,” I offered, not wanting any aspect of our date to be less than wonderful.
“Oh, no. It’s fine, really,” she insisted, but she repeatedly spun the pasta on her plate, never once taking a bite. “It’s just that, well, I was actually married once more after Joe.” Audrey's eyes slowly met mine, revealing a vulnerability that made her seem both girlish and fragile. I felt a warmth come over me. Now it was my time to tilt my head, signaling my understanding. Her eyes returned to her plate. “His name was Bob Thompson and he was, actually, he is a very successful man who said he loved me. Then, when our son was born, he decided he didn’t want a family and took off. He's totally out of the picture now, living somewhere in New England.”
“Really?” I asked, disbelieving anyone could do that, especially to Audrey.
“Yes. What’s worse, Bob is worth close to eight million. It’s not like we would have been a big burden,” she remarked, glancing up to register my reaction. My mouth was open. How could that happen? If I had the same opportunity as these men, you could bet I’d never leave her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and interesting. She was also just what I was looking for.
When our afternoon together ended, I was feeling more than optimistic. I wanted to see her again, and she seemed interested in me too. We agreed to meet that very same week for another lunch, and another opportunity to get to know one another. While we were discussing where to meet, her cell phone went off again. Audrey glanced at the number, deftly pushed a few buttons, and the ringing stopped. She turned back to me, and we settled on Lucky Chinese Restaurant, and said our good-byes.
Over the next few days, Audrey Munson consumed my thoughts. I kept telling myself to be cautious, reasonable, and rational. I had been on so many horrible first dates. I knew what I wanted, what I needed, and even though we’d spent only a few hours together, I knew she was it. Two days later, we met at Lucky's, but this time I let Johnny spend his lunch at a friend’s house.
Unlike our previous meeting, I arrived before Audrey. My early arrival was actually intentional since I wanted to arrange a well-positioned table away from any obtrusive noise or movement. I choose a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, and waited. I was nervous and glanced at the door every time the jingle of the bells announced an arrival. I arranged the sugar collection on the table while making a mental list of questions to ensure the conversation never suffered a moment’s lull.
A few minutes after our agreed time, the bells gently heralded Audrey's entrance, and I once again allowed myself to watch her before she caught sight of me. Her long, spiraling hair found its way down her back as she slowly glanced around the small restaurant space. The sun stole through the front windows, framing her hair, like a halo. There's my angel, I thought. I slowly stood up so Audrey could notice me, but part of me also hoped I might watch her just a little longer before our date officially began. Turning toward the back of the restaurant, she finally saw me and flashed me a warm smile. I was overwhelmed.
We sat down and ordered our meal. I immediately posed a question from my well-memorized list, taking every effort to seem casual and confident.
“So, care to tell me more about your experiences on Jewish Singles?”
“Well,” she smiled, twirling a curl of her hair, “I guess you could say I've had a lot of first dates, and most just ended there.”
“Oh? How come?” I asked, wondering if her experiences had been similar to mine. Before she had an opportunity to answer, however, her cell phone rang and she scrambled to answer it. She retrieved it from her purse, glanced at the number, shrugged her shoulders, and placed it down on the table. Without further comment she answered, “I think I told you how important honesty in a relationship is to me. Well, in the interest of honesty, I make it very clear to men that I'm an old-fashioned girl. I don’t believe in sex before marriage. Of course, when I tell a man that, it’s usually the last time I see him,” she spoke calmly and her eyes never left mine. She was reading me, awaiting my reaction to what was normally considered a deal breaker.
I took a moment to think about what she said while I blew on my wonton soup to buy some time. I respected her principles. I was impressed by both her candor and her convictions. Of course, a part of me was disappointed. But it wasn't only a playmate I was after. I wanted a life. A life with a woman of high morals that I could be together with forever.
“You know, I’m not like most men,” I said evenly, meeting her eyes and smiling. “I think you're a wonderful person, Audrey, and I see no reason not to wait until we know each other a lot better, to have a deep relationship. So, tell me, would you like to continue to see me?”
“Sure. You’ll do,” she remarked, returning to her meal while glancing down to check her cell phone for any voice mails. My smile faded. I’ll do? What the hell did that mean? I was suddenly unsure of what I had just been so certain of. I didn’t want to simply “do” for anyone. When Audrey finally looked back at me, she must have guessed the direction of my thoughts from the expression on my face, and she quickly clarified her remark. “Oh, silly me. Look at your face! Me and my twisted sense of humor. I was kidding, Paul. I'm so looking forward to us getting together again.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Meeting the Parents
January 2007
Some of the best conversations I have ever had occurred within the confines of a car. R
emoved from the trappings of the outside world and its limitless interruptions and distractions, a car ride forces you to communicate in a way that technology seeks to prevent. Face to face, real time words and reactions, instant emotions, and undeniable expressions all account for the passage of time in a car, on a road, with someone else. Depending on the passengers’ relationship, the car ride to anywhere may consist of idle chatter or discussions of greater depth, and it may pass in silence or accompanied by the comfort of the radio, but it is always the road less taken, less you take it alone.
The road Audrey and I happened to be travelling on was headed due south, toward Fort Lauderdale and the temporary home of her parents. Though permanent residents of Huntington Island, a recent hurricane successfully proved that there is no such thing as geographical permanence in Florida, and so they were temporarily living in a Fort Lauderdale condo until the repairs were finished.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going, honey?” Audrey’s term of endearment may have been thrown in at the end to mask her doubts about my navigational skills, but I enjoyed the fact that someone was calling me “honey” nonetheless.
“I know exactly where I’m going,” I responded, confidently. “I used to own a condo at Ocean Bluffs, which is right down the street from your parents’ place in Seaside Terrace.” I took a moment to bask in the triumph of my knowledge, hoping my nervousness over meeting her parents would dissipate. “So, would you tell me again what it is your father does?” Audrey gave a little sigh of exasperation, and explained for the second time what her father did for a living. Sort of.
According to Audrey, her father was the son of a very successful man who not only founded a Fortune 500 company, amassing a huge fortune of which Audrey’s father was the heir apparent and she was an obliging heiress. Such a pedigree did as much to increase my nervousness as it did my curiosity. It seemed that, despite being the son of the founder, Audrey’s father decided not to work in the family business. Though I would certainly not question a man for choosing to blaze his own trail as I had done, Audrey had no clear answer for what her father did instead. And why the heck would the heir to a huge fortune choose Seaside Terrace to temporarily reside? It wasn’t a bad place to live, but it wasn’t the Ritz either.
During a lull in the conversation, my thoughts turned to my own career choices and the winding path that had resulted. After Johnny was born and Talia was in New York, I moved to Florida, and, instead of returning to cubicle servitude, thanks to the significant profit from the sale of my California home, I had the ability to fulfill my dream of becoming a business owner like my brothers. I looked to purchase an ongoing business. However, each time I found one, it was the same story. I'd make an offer, and the seller would accept it. Then, each time I went to look at the business's records, I discovered that the income of the business was not what the seller claimed. In short, the unscrupulous seller was trying to dump his failing business.
Then I hired Tom.
Tom was my business broker and I can honestly say that I liked him because he was a lot like me. He was focused, honest, hardworking, and incapable of bullshit. From our first meeting, I knew he would be the person to find what I was looking for.
He found me Daniel.
My previous experiences had made me cynical towards each new introductory meeting, and so when Daniel and I sat down for the first time, I was far from congenial. Skipping over the usual pleasantries, I launched right into a series of questions that were intended to not only show my own seriousness and professionalism, but to also determine, as quickly as I could, the viability of his business.
“How long have you owned the business, Daniel?” I asked, making no attempt to hide my negative assumptions. Much to my surprise, however, Daniel was unfazed and obliging. He explained how he had relocated to Florida from Venezuela ten years before, arriving with his pockets empty and his heart filled with desire. He spoke of his own father’s indefatigable work ethic, and how any success he would find in America would be their success as well. Taking any work he could, Daniel began as a simple painter, living off very small wages until he earned a reputation as a reliable worker and thereby earning a place on a regular team of painters. He worked hard, played little, and managed to eventually save enough money to start a small painting company of his own. As a first time entrepreneur, Daniel quickly discovered how little things like punctuality and accountability earned you a valuable reputation among contractors and, before he knew it, A-1 Painting Services grew to be such a thriving business, he was grappling to manage all the responsibilities involved in keeping his service at the level for which he had gained notoriety. In short, he needed help.
Continuing in his frank manner, Daniel acknowledged hardships and disappointments, but amid all this his voice never wavered and his dark eyes never showed anything other than complete sincerity and openness. I was taken by his straight forward approach to both me and his business, and I began to consider the fact that I may have finally found my business. As the vetting continued, Daniel spent the next two hours showing me every income receipt and expense check of the business, month by month, for the past two years. Given his limited education and late learned English, I was impressed.
When all was said and done, and after I added up all the figures, I was at a loss for words. A-1 Painting had brought in 1.8 million dollars last year, just as Daniel claimed. Even more impressive, Daniel already had a pile of signed contracts for over a dozen jobs in various stages of completion.
“I can’t believe this,” I finally said, shaking my head with a smile.
“What?” responded Daniel, not knowing how to read me or my question.
“I'm in shock. Your figures and my figures are pretty close.” This seemed to confuse Daniel even more. He stood with his hands behind his back, unsure how he should respond. “What I mean is, most business owners I have met with have claimed that their businesses were worth far more than they actually were. I'm so surprised to have found actual, accurate numbers.” Daniel’s face spread into a wide smile. I could tell he was proud of his accomplishments, and he had every reason to be. “I guess what I’m saying is, I’d like to work with you,” I explained, extending my hand to his.
Our handshake was firm and the mood was enthusiastic. I knew my purchase of the business was a gamble as I was investing as much in Daniel as I was in A-1. Daniel agreed to stay on as my “key employee,” the one with the connections and on-site knowledge. If Daniel remained as committed as he’d already shown himself to be, his prediction would certainly be fulfilled: the company’s earnings would be significantly higher in the coming year.
We spent the remainder of the day drafting our business plan. We decided that I would set up an office in my home with the advantages of a Nextel walkie-talkie phone, and manage the financial aspects of the business. Daniel would serve as the supervisor: making the rounds of the job sites, seeking out builders for feedback, soliciting additional work, and taking advantage of referrals. As a team, we would continue to offer punctuality, accountability, professionalism, and now even quicker service than ever before.
At the day’s end, we once again exchanged a firm handshake to seal our agreement, and Tom began work on the sales contract. I thanked Tom for delivering the opportunity I had been looking for and, driving home, I felt different, like a changed man. Stopping at a traffic light, I glanced in my rearview mirror and stared at my reflection. I was now the businessman I’d always wanted to be, doing what my father had done. Never a fan of clichés, I couldn't help but smile as I realized that my ship had finally come in. I could see my future clearly. I determined right then and there to work as hard as I could to make the business prosper for the next ten years; save enough money to put Johnny through college; and finally, realize financial security for the rest of my life.
The ringing of still another call on Audrey's cell phone jarred me back from my reminiscing, and I blinked my eyes as if just awaking from sleep. Audrey reached into her pur
se, and looked down at the number. She glanced up, saw me peering at her intently, and shut off the phone. Her eyes returned to the window, while her glittery nails tapped the door.
My thoughts turned once more back to my business. It seemed my gamble had paid off. Only a few months in, and A-1’s earnings for the period were already up significantly compared to the previous year. That, and the instant compatibility Daniel and I had found, made my future with him seem certain.
If only I could say the same about my future with Audrey. I really believed I was falling in love with her, and I believed she felt genuine affection for me, but while I was prone to vocalize it to her, she was less forthcoming. Having been married twice before, I knew she had every reason to keep her guard up, but I wanted her to shout it from the rooftops like I wanted to.
Thinking about how well my business was doing, my nervousness about meeting Audrey's parents dissipated when we arrived at Seaside Terrace.
“There. There’s my dad’s car. You can park right next to him. There,” she repeated, while I slowly maneuvered us into a small space next to a Honda. Again, I was curious. A Honda? Seaside Terrace? Really? I started to consider the idea that her family may be more interesting than I’d presumed. Perhaps years of opulence had numbed them to any obsession for material possessions, and now found them content with life’s other offerings. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad visit after all.
“Come on, kiddo,” I whispered to Johnny, reaching back and gently patting his knee. Slow to wake up, he struggled to open his large round eyes, Talia’s eyes, and let out a man-sized yawn. When he returned my gaze, his trademark smile spread across his face. “Ready to meet some nice, new people?” I asked him softly. He nodded and he slowly sat up in his seat, looking around at our new location with sleepy wonderment.
Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Page 5