When she reached the reception desk, the clerk told her that her father was in the penthouse with George Novak and called to say that Florentyna was on her way up. The elevator reached the forty-second floor far too quickly, and Florentyna hesitated before leaving its safety. She stepped out onto the green carpet and heard the elevator door slide closed behind her. She stood alone in the corridor for a moment before knocking quietly at her father’s door. Abel opened it immediately.
“Florentyna, what a pleasant surprise. Come on in, my darling. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
George Novak was standing by the window in the living room, looking down at Park Avenue. He turned to greet his goddaughter. Florentyna’s eyes pleaded with him to leave. If he stayed, she knew she would lose her nerve. Go, go, go, she said inside her brain. George had sensed her anxiety immediately.
“I must get back to work, Abel. There’s a goddamn maharajah checking in tonight.”
“Tell him to park his elephants at the Plaza,” said Abel genially. “Now that Florentyna’s here, stay and have another drink.”
George looked at Florentyna. “No, Abel, I have to go. The man’s taken the whole of the thirty-third floor. The least he’ll expect is the vice president to greet him. Good night, Florentyna,” he said, kissing her on the cheek and briefly clasping her arm, almost as though he knew that she needed strength. He left them alone and suddenly Florentyna wished he had not gone.
“How’s Bloomingdale’s?” said Abel, ruffling his daughter’s hair affectionately. “Have you told them yet they’re going to lose the best junior supervisor they’ve had in years? They’re sure going to be surprised when they hear that Jessie Kovats’s next job will be to open the Edinburgh Baron.” He laughed out loud.
“I’m going to be married,” said Florentyna, shyly extending her left hand. She could think of nothing to add, so she simply waited for his reaction.
“This is a bit sudden, isn’t it?” said Abel, more than a little shocked.
“Not really, Daddy. I’ve known him for some time.”
“Do I know the boy? Have I ever met him?”
“No, Daddy, you haven’t.”
“Where does he come from? What’s his background? Is he Polish? Why have you been so secretive about him, Florentyna?”
“He’s not Polish, Daddy. He’s the son of a banker.”
Abel went white and picked up his drink, swallowing the liquor in one gulp. Florentyna knew exactly what must be going through his mind as he poured himself another drink, so she got the truth out quickly.
“His name is Richard Kane, Daddy.”
Abel swung around to face her. “Is he William Kane’s son?” he demanded.
“Yes, he is,” said Florentyna.
“You could consider marrying William Kane’s son? Do you know what that man did to me?”
“I think so,” said Florentyna.
“You couldn’t even begin to know,” shouted Abel as he let forth a tirade that seemed to go on forever and only served to convince Florentyna that both men had gone mad. In the end she interrupted her father to tell him that she was well aware of all the facts.
“Are you, young lady, and did you know the fact that William Kane was the man who was responsible for the death of my closest friend? Yes, he’s the man who made Davis Leroy commit suicide and, not satisfied with that, he tried to bankrupt me. If David Maxton hadn’t rescued me in time, Kane would have taken away my hotels and sold them without a second thought. And where would I be now if William Kane had had his way? You’d have been lucky to end up as a shop-girl at Bloomingdale’s. Have you thought about that, Florentyna?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’ve thought of little else these past few weeks. Richard and I are horrified about the hatred that exists between you and his father. He’s facing him now.”
“Well, I can tell you how he’ll react,” said Abel. “He’ll go berserk. That man would never allow his precious WASP son to marry you, so you might as well forget the whole crazy idea, young lady.”
His voice had risen again to a shout.
“I can’t forget it, Father,” she said evenly. “We love each other and we both need your blessing, not your anger.”
“Now you listen to me, Florentyna,” said Abel, his face now red with fury. “I forbid you to see the Kane boy ever again. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you. But I will see him. I’ll not be parted from Richard because you hate his father.”
She found herself clutching her ring finger and trembling slightly.
“It will not happen,” said Abel, the color in his face deepening. “I will never allow the marriage. My own daughter deserting me for the son of that bastard Kane. I say you will not marry him.”
“I am not deserting you. I would have run away with him if that were true, but I couldn’t marry anyone behind your back.” She was aware of the tremble in her voice. “But I’m over twenty-one and I will marry Richard. I intend to spend the rest of my life with him. Please help us, Daddy. Won’t you meet him, and then you’ll begin to understand why I feel the way I do about him?”
“He will never be allowed to enter my home. I do not want to meet any child of William Kane. Never, do you hear me?”
“Then I must leave you.”
“Florentyna, if you leave me to marry the Kane boy, I’ll cut you off without a penny. Without a penny, do you hear me?” Abel’s voice softened. “Now, use your common sense, girl—you’ll get over him. You’re still young and there are lots of other men who’d give their right arm to marry you.”
“I don’t want lots of other men,” said Florentyna. “I’ve met the man I’m going to marry and it’s not his fault that he’s his father’s son. Neither of us chose our fathers.”
“If my family isn’t good enough for you, then go,” roared Abel. “And I swear I won’t have your name mentioned in my presence again.” He turned away and stared out of the window. “For the last time, I warn you, Florentyna—do not marry that boy.”
“Daddy, we are going to be married. Although we’re both past the stage of needing your consent, we do ask for your approval.”
Abel looked away from the window and walked toward her. “Are you pregnant? Is that the reason? Do you have to get married?”
“No, Father.”
“Have you ever slept with him?” Abel demanded.
The question shook Florentyna, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she replied. “Many times.”
Abel raised his arm and hit her full across the face. Blood started to trickle down her chin and she nearly fell. She turned, ran out of the room crying and leaned on the elevator button, holding a hand over her bleeding lip. The door slid open and George stepped out. She had a fleeting glimpse of his shocked expression as she stepped quickly into the car and jabbed repeatedly at the Close Door button. As George stood and watched her crying, the elevator doors closed slowly.
Once Florentyna had reached the street, she took a cab straight to her own apartment. On the way, she dabbed at her cut lip with a Kleenex. Richard was already there, standing under the marquee, head bowed and looking miserable.
She jumped out of the cab and ran to him. Once they were upstairs, she opened the door and quickly closed it behind them, feeling blessedly safe.
“I love you, Richard.”
“I love you, too,” said Richard, as he threw his arms around her.
“I don’t have to ask how your father reacted,” said Florentyna, clinging to him desperately.
“I’ve never seen him so angry,” said Richard. “Called your father a liar and a crook, nothing more than a jumpedup Polish immigrant. He asked me why I didn’t marry somebody from my own background.”
“What did you say to that?”
“I told him someone as wonderful as you couldn’t be replaced by a suitably Brahmin family friend, and he completely lost his temper.”
Florentyna didn’t let go of Richard as he spoke.
“Then he threatened to cut
me off without a penny if I married you,” he continued. “When will they understand we don’t care a damn about their damn money?
“I tried appealing to my mother for support, but even she could not control his temper. He insisted that she leave the room. I have never seen him treat my mother that way before. She was weeping, which only made my resolve stronger. I left him in midsentence. God knows I hope he doesn’t take it out on Virginia and Lucy. What happened when you told your father?”
“He hit me,” said Florentyna very quietly. “For the first time in my life. I think he’ll kill you if he finds us together. Richard darling, we must get out of here before he finds out where we are, and he’s bound to try the apartment first. I’m so frightened.”
“No need for you to be frightened, Florentyna. We’ll leave tonight and go as far away as possible and to hell with them both.”
“How quickly can you pack?” asked Florentyna.
“I can’t,” said Richard. “I can never return home now. You pack your things and then we’ll go. I’ve got about a hundred dollars with me. How do you feel about marrying a hundred-dollar man?”
“As much as a salesgirl can hope for, I suppose—and to think I dreamed of being a kept woman. Next you’ll be wanting a dowry,” Florentyna added while rummaging in her bag. “Well, I’ve got two hundred and twelve dollars and an American Express card. You owe me fifty-six dollars, Richard Kane, but I’ll consider repayment at a dollar a year.”
In thirty minutes Florentyna was packed. Then she sat down at her desk, scrawled a note and left the envelope on the table by the side of her bed.
Richard hailed a cab. Florentyna was delighted to find how capable Richard was in a crisis and it made her feel more relaxed. “Idlewild,” he said after placing Florentyna’s three suitcases in the trunk.
At the airport he booked a flight to San Francisco; they chose the Golden Gate city simply because it seemed the best very distant point on the map of the United States.
At seven-thirty the American Airlines Super Constellation 1049 taxied out onto the runway to start its seven-hour flight.
Richard helped Florentyna with her seatbelt. She smiled at him.
“Do you know how much I love you, Mr. Kane?”
“Yes, I think so—Mrs. Kane,” he replied.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Abel and George arrived at Florentyna’s apartment on East Fifty-seventh Street a few minutes after she and Richard had left for the airport. Abel was already regretting the blow he had struck his daughter. He did not care to conjecture about what his life would be like without his only child. He thought if he could only reach her before it was too late, he might, with gentle persuasion, still talk her out of marrying the Kane boy. He was willing to offer her anything to stop the marriage.
George rang the bell as he and Abel stood outside her door. No one answered. George pressed the button again and they waited for some time before Abel used the key Florentyna had left with him for emergencies. They looked in all the rooms, neither really expecting to find her.
“She must have left already,” said George as he joined Abel in the bedroom.
“Yes, but where?” said Abel, and then he saw an envelope addressed to him on the night table. He remembered the last letter left for him by the side of a bed that had not been slept in. He ripped it open:
Dear Daddy,
Please forgive me for running away but I do love Richard and will not give him up because of your hatred for his father. We will be married right away and nothing you can do will prevent it. If you ever try to harm him in any way, you will be harming me. Neither of us intend to return to New York until you have ended the senseless feud between our family and the Kanes. I love you more than you will ever realize and I shall always be thankful for everything you have done for me. I pray that this is not the end of our relationship but until you can change your mind, “Never seek the wind in the field—it is useless to try and find what is gone.”
Your loving daughter,
Florentyna
Abel passed the letter to George and collapsed onto the bed. George read the handwritten note and asked helplessly, “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, George. I want my daughter back even if it means dealing directly with that bastard Kane. There’s only one thing I feel certain of: He will want this marriage stopped whatever sacrifice he has to make. Get him on the phone.”
It took George some time to locate William Kane’s unlisted number. The night security officer at Lester’s bank finally gave it to him when George insisted that it was a family emergency. Abel sat on the bed in silence, Florentyna’s letter in his hand, remembering how when she was a little girl he had taught her the old Polish proverb that she had now quoted to him. When George was put through to the Kane residence, a male voice answered the phone.
“May I speak to Mr. William Kane?” asked George.
“Who shall I say is calling?” asked the imperturbable voice.
“Mr. Abel Rosnovski,” said George.
“I’ll see if he is in, sir.”
“I think that was Kane’s butler. He’s gone to look for him,” said George as he passed the receiver over to Abel. Abel waited, his fingers tapping on the bedside table.
“William Kane speaking.”
“This is Abel Rosnovski.”
“Indeed?” William’s tone was icy. “And when exactly did you think of setting up your daughter with my son? At the time no doubt when you failed so conspicuously to cause the collapse of my bank perhaps?”
“Don’t be such a damn—” Abel checked himself. “I want this marriage stopped every bit as much as you do. I never tried to take away your son. I only learned of his existence today. I love my daughter even more than I hate you and I don’t want to lose her. Can’t we get together and work something out between us?”
“No,” said William. “I asked you that same question once in the past, Mr. Rosnovski, and you made it very clear when and where you would meet me. I can wait until then, because I am confident you will find it is you who are there not me.”
“What’s the good of raking over the past now, Kane? If you know where they are, perhaps we can stop them. That’s what you want too. Or are you so goddamn proud that you’ll stand by and watch your son marry my girl rather than help … ?”
The telephone clicked as he spoke the word help. Abel buried his face in his hands and wept. George took him back to the Baron.
Through that night and the following day, Abel tried every way he could think of to find Florentyna. He. even rang her mother, who admitted that her daughter had told her all about Richard Kane.
“He sounded rather nice,” she added spitefully.
“Do you know where they are right now?” Abel asked impatiently.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Find out for yourself.” Another telephone click.
Abel placed advertisements in newspapers and even bought radio time. He tried to get the police involved, but they could only put out a general call since she was over twenty-one. No word came from her. Finally he had to admit to himself that she would undoubtedly be married to the Kane boy by the time her father found her.
He reread her letter many times and resolved that he would never attempt to harm the boy in any way. But the father—that was a different matter. He, Abel Rosnovski, had gone down on his knees and pleaded and the bastard hadn’t even listened. Abel vowed that when the chance presented itself, he would finish William Kane off once and for all. George became fearful at the intensity of his old friend’s passion.
“Shall I cancel your European trip?” he asked.
Abel had completely forgotten that he had intended to accompany Florentyna to Europe when she had finished her two years with Bloomingdale’s at the end of the month. She had been going to open the Edinburgh Baron and the Cannes Baron.
“I can’t cancel,” replied Abel, although he now barely cared who opened what or whether the hotels w
ere opened at all. “I’ll have to go and open the hotels myself. But while I’m away, George, keep trying to find out exactly where Florentyna is. And don’t let her know. She mustn’t think I’m spying on her; she would never forgive me if she found out. Your best bet may well be Zaphia, but be careful because you can be sure she’ll take every advantage of what has happened. It is obvious she has already briefed Florentyna on everything she knew about Kane.”
“Do you want Osborne to do anything about the Kane stock?”
“No, nothing for the moment. Now is not the appropriate time for finishing Kane off. When I do, I want to be certain that it’s once and for all. Leave Kane alone for the time being—I can always come back to him. For now, concentrate on finding Florentyna.”
George promised that he would have found her by the time Abel returned.
Abel opened the Edinburgh Baron three weeks later. The hotel looked quite magnificent as it stood on the hill dominating the Athens of the North. It was always little things that annoyed Abel most when he opened a new hotel and he would always check them on arrival. A small electric shock caused by nylon carpets when you touched a light switch. Room service that took forty minutes to materialize or a bed that was too small for anyone who was either fat or tall.
The press was quick to point out that it had been expected that Florentyna Rosnovski, daughter of the Chicago Baron, would perform the opening ceremony. One of the gossip columnists, on the Sunday Express, hinted at a family rift and reported that Abel had not been his usual exuberant, bouncy self. Abel denied the suggestion unconvincingly, retorting that he was over fifty—not an age for bouncing, his public relations man had told him to say. The press remained unconvinced and the following day the Daily Mail printed a photograph of a discarded engraved bronze plaque, discovered on a rubbish heap, that read:
The Edinburgh Baron
Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Page 49