15:05 / 3:05 P.M. CET
When Nir looked up, both women’s eyes had grown enormous.
“Nir,” Nicole said, truly scolding him as shock covered her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to get out the words as he pointed at Alicia. “I’m so, so sorry. I just—”
He lost control again.
Nicole looked at Alicia and saw the problem. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nir. You’re like a child.” Leaning toward her friend, she pulled her sleeve up into her hand and cleaned Alicia’s face. But Nir saw her grinning while she was doing it.
“Did I have…” Now Alicia was using her own hand to wipe the tip of her nose.
Meanwhile, Nir was caught up in an ongoing mixture of laughter and apologies. Soon, the two women were laughing too. They grew so loud that Mila came knocking on the door.
“Is everything okay in there?”
Only Nicole could gain enough control to weakly blurt a yes.
Finally, Nir breathed hard three times and spoke. “I am so very sorry, Alicia, both for laughing and for messing up with my words. That’s the other thing I get from my Israeli upbringing—I’m sometimes a little too blunt with what I say. I was just trying to tell you I love your art and would like to come alongside you, doing what I can to help you get it on many more walls.”
Alicia, too, was gaining control. “And I’m sorry I overreacted. Being raised a Texan means I tend to live with a chip on my shoulder. Let’s just erase the misunderstanding and begin with, ‘Okay, Mr. Tavor, will you please share with me your business proposal?’”
“Gladly, but let me first make clear that this isn’t just my proposal. You’ll get two for the price of one,” he said, nodding toward Nicole. “I’ll offer my financial investment and connections. Nicole will offer her… Um, I think I’m about to say the wrong thing again, but here goes. Nicole will offer her face.”
Nicole gave a nod of affirmation.
“You don’t need any help with your art. It’s spot-on. Unique. It fits a niche in the market. Where you need help is with marketing and capital. Marketing, because I don’t think you’re effectively communicating to your niche. Capital, because once the marketing kicks in, you’ll need to crank up your inventory.”
“What is the niche you believe I’m not reaching? People already know my art is good for wet and humid climates.”
“True, but that’s way too broad. That’s not a niche; it’s a full-on weather system. The niche you fill is yacht art. I know enough people who own the fanciest of boats, and they’re constantly having to replace fittings, furnishings, decorations—really, anything that can deteriorate. The water and salt get in, and within a couple of years everything is destroyed.”
“I get it. But so many of the yacht owners like to redecorate all the time anyway, and it’s not like many of them notice the cost.”
“True. That’s what makes your product unique—if you’re okay with my calling your art a product. Just in the business sense, of course. Your Marilyn on an owner’s wall will be the statement piece he shows off to his guests. ‘I’ve had this hanging here for a decade now,’ he’ll say. ‘What?’ his friends will respond. ‘Impossible!’ Then he’ll go on to tell them just how smart he is to have invested in it. It’s an ego thing, and if there’s one word that describes a mega yacht owner, it’s ego.”
“That’s true. I’ve met enough yacht owners. But mega yachts are a limited market. Only so many exist or will ever exist. Getting to yacht owners isn’t too difficult, but breaking through to mega yacht owners is impossible.”
Nir leaned forward, causing the jewelers loupe hanging around his neck to clink against the glass desktop. “That’s why you need to emphasize the unique nature of your niche. You can work harder and sell ten €5,000 pieces to ten yacht owners, or you can sell two €50,000 pieces to one mega yacht owner.”
Alicia laughed. “Why would anyone pay €50,000 for one of my pieces?”
“Because you would ask them to. Again, it’s about ego. Would the yacht owners you’ve met rather show their friends the €5,000 painting on their wall or the €50,000 artistic masterpiece? To these guys, your art is worth whatever your price.”
Nir could tell Alicia was getting it, and from his peripheral vision, he saw Nicole wink at him.
“So if we were to do this, how would we start?”
“Well, you know the old adage that it takes money to make money. I need something from you.”
He watched her expression change as her guard went up.
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to give me $20,000 so I can release the $4 million I have tied up in the Nigerian courts. You said it’s impossible to break into the mega yacht world, but I can get you there. What I need from you is three paintings. I want to give them away to three friends of mine to seed the field.”
Nir already had the three who would receive the paintings in mind, and none of them were actually friends. But they were men with connections, and that’s what was important.
One would go to Anatoly Kvashnin, a Russian oligarch who made his money in fertilizer after the fall of the Soviet Union. He’d been funding a Chechen militia that had made its way into Azerbaijan and was stirring up trouble at the behest of the Russian government. In return for intelligence and special forces access into the country, Israel had promised the Azerbaijani government they’d cut off the funding for the militia. Nir and Yaron had staged a tenachesh mi on Kvashnin’s yacht while it was moored off Cyprus.
It turned out that, when he had a gun pointed at his face, the Russian wasn’t interested in ideology—only money and self-preservation. So Nir had promised to spare his life if he halted his funding of the Chechens and fulfilled one favor with no questions asked at the time of Nir’s choosing. Nir was now going to call in the favor by sending him a painting with instructions signed Your night visitor.
The second man would be a Jordanian billionaire, Marouf Ensour, who made his money in road construction and was an established Mossad asset. The last painting would go to Takeshi Kitamura, the owner of a Japanese tech company, whom Nir met when the man was shopping for diamonds for each of his four daughters.
Nir continued. “In exchange, each man receiving a free painting will be asked to display it prominently and spread the word of their acquisition. Like you said, it’s a fairly small community, and word will get around quickly.”
When he paused, Nicole jumped in. “That’s where you and I come in, Alicia. We need to create a packet to distribute to the owners of the world’s top one hundred personal mega yachts. If we time it right with the buzz, we’ll get some interest. Then it will be up to you and me to go make some visits.”
Alicia seemed overwhelmed, as if she were still trying to process it all. “Why would you do this?” she finally asked, looking only to Nicole. Apparently, she’d decided she had Nir figured out. He was about the money.
Nicole reached over and grabbed Alicia’s hand. “First, you’re a friend. A good friend. And I don’t have a lot of those in this world. Second, quite frankly, the money could turn out to be really good. And, third, it’s an adventure. Girl, we’ll be visiting mega yachts all over the world. It’ll be crazy fun. A lot of work, but crazy, crazy fun.”
Nir was amazed at Nicole’s performance. But maybe she was so good at it because it wasn’t really a performance for her. She genuinely liked Alicia, as did he. He really hoped none of their bigger plan would blow back on her. If all went well, this would turn out to be a great deal for Alicia, for Nir and Nicole, for the State of Israel, and even for the three men given the free paintings.
It was a win all around—except for the men who would eventually be blown up on their yachts by explosives-laden artwork. This was decidedly not a good deal for them.