FIVE
THIS WAS THE DAY. And Nicolae was ready. He had risen early and followed a hard, sweaty five-mile run with a vigorous half hour on the rower and a weight-lifting set. In the shower he rehearsed his pitch and could barely wait to get to the phone. He had to wait until midafternoon to allow his target in the United States to begin his workday, so Nicolae filled his morning checking in on staff and staying atop everything.
When the appointed time came, he rubbed his hands together, sat back with his feet on his desk, reminded himself of everything he knew about his prey and the product, strapped on his ear set, and called the CEO of Corona Technologies in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Nicolae spoke fluent French and even tossed in a Cajun flavor, clearly impressing the man. “Jimmy!” he began. “How are things in the Bayou today?”
“Couldn’t be better, Mr. Carpathia,” James Corona Jr. said. “Just closed my biggest sale ever.”
“Well, you will be able to break that record in a few moments if we can come to an agreement. This will be your lucky day.”
“It already is, my friend. But you’ll be hard-pressed to top a one-hundred-and-one-million-dollar deal.”
Nicolae froze. A hundred and one? What were the odds? He buried his pique and calmed himself.
“What can I do for you?” Corona said.
Deflated but determined not to show it, Nicolae outlined his plan to purchase enough hardware and licensing to tie off the Romanian markets first, and then to become the exclusive distributor of Corona’s oral-cellular technology in all of Europe.
Corona responded with a throbbing silence.
“This makes your other sale appear insignificant now, no?” Nicolae said, suddenly suspicious.
“No.”
“Really? You must be on a roll, Jimmy.”
“A roller coaster is more like it, Nicolae.”
“How so?”
“I cannot sell to you.”
Nicolae swung his feet from the desk and stood. “You are joking.”
“I’m not. I wish I were.”
“Why?”
“Your territory has been taken.”
“By whom?”
“You know I’m not at liberty to reveal—”
“Tell me who, Jimmy, or never get another dime’s worth of business from me.”
“You’re a friend, Nicolae, and a treasured customer, but I cannot violate trade laws like that.”
“You know I will find out soon enough.”
“I have no doubt, and more power to you.”
“What else do you have, Jimmy?” Nicolae said, having switched to English now.
“I don’t follow.”
“What is on the horizon? Give me something cutting-edge, something I can use to break the back of my competitor.”
“But you said you would never do business with me again.”
“Do you want the money or not? I have a hundred million to burn. And I will add two to it just for good measure.”
“That’s the trouble, Nicolae. It would be too much of a risk. This would be something I have not even dreamed of offering anyone yet. It’s too embryonic.”
“Try me.”
“We’re just in the development stage.”
“Then you could use a hundred million. A hundred and two.”
“Could we ever. But I wouldn’t do that to you, Nicolae.”
“I insist. At least tell me what it is.” Carpathia was pacing now, gazing out his glass walls at the mountains that bore his name.
“Cellular-solar technology.”
“Tell me more.”
“This is classified.”
“You can trust me. I have just been kicked in the teeth by an unnamed competitor, Jimmy. I am what you would call a motivated buyer.”
“Investor is more accurate. If you buy product, it’s on you to succeed with it. If you invest in this, we become partners and we could both lose everything.”
“Fine. Stipulated. What is cellular-solar technology?”
“Just what it sounds like. We launch proprietary satellites far enough from the earth that the sun reaches them twenty-four hours a day, allows them to relay energy and signals and information to each other, and they power your electronic gadgets for free.”
“I am in.”
“Nicolae, you’re responding emotionally. I haven’t even bid this out yet, haven’t talked to our top people, haven’t—”
“Money is going elsewhere if you let this slip through your fingers, Jimmy. Tell me I am in.”
“Okay, all right, you’re in. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible with the details. You know, of course, there are zero guarantees on this one. We have no idea where it will go, whether it will work, whether there’ll be a market for it—anything.”
“If it does what you say it will do, there will be a market,” Nicolae said. “And if there is not, I will create one.”
Irene had always been a creative, fastidious homemaker, but after what she had told Rayford about her new interest in and care for his parents, he began to notice more and more around the house that impressed him. Like any other mother of young children, Irene had often been frazzled, short-tempered, not averse to raising her voice at the kids and him. He rarely saw that anymore.
It wasn’t that she was perfect. She was not. But she was quick to apologize, to make up for outbursts, to soothe hurt feelings, to break and ease tension. He couldn’t deny it. She really was becoming a different person.
That had a strange effect on Rayford. On one hand, he was drawn to her the way he had been when they met. On the other, getting too close to her scared him. It was as if she were a mirror to his own soul, and he didn’t like what he saw there.
Rayford had always considered it a gift to know how to look out for number one. He hadn’t seen it as self-centered. Real men called this ambition and drive. Nobody handed anyone anything in this life. You had to reach out and take what you wanted, become master of your own destiny, captain of your own soul. He had earned everything he had achieved, including time for himself. It was time to do something for Rayford.
So when his buddies wanted to play golf Sunday mornings instead of Sunday afternoons, he told Irene he was going to ask the church brass to consider adding to the schedule what was known among his Catholic friends as “Fisherman’s Mass.”
“A Saturday night service,” he said. “Lots of churches have them. They originated for men who went fishing before dawn on Sundays. Well, it ought to hold that they would accommodate us golfers too.”
“I can’t see it,” Irene said. “You know how long it took to get the new foyer carpeting through all the committees. It would take months to move on something like this, and it would require a congregational vote.”
“In the meantime, I may have to miss a few Sundays.”
“Really.”
“Don’t look at me like that, Irene. I didn’t promise you I’d go to church every Sunday.”
“No, but you promised Someone, and if I were you, I’d be more worried what He thought about this.”
“I think God understands. And He helps those who help themselves.”
“Does He really? I don’t suppose you can support that with chapter and verse.”
“It’s in there somewhere.”
“No, it isn’t. Because I tried that line on Jackie, and she caught me on it. It sounds good. Even seems to make sense. But it’s not there. You know what though, Rafe? I would support your Saturday night church attendance and even be happy to see you off to the golf course at dawn the next day.”
He stopped and squinted at her. “What’s the catch?”
“Small as New Hope is, they have a Saturday night service.”
“Forget it.”
“I thought you wanted my blessing.”
“I don’t need your blessing, Irene.”
“My permission then?”
“I’d better not need that either.” That made her cloud over, but right then Rayford didn’t care. “I shouldn’t have to ask my wife if I can go out and play.”
Their mild tiff niggled at Irene for hours. Rayford could be so frustrating. And yet was trying to match him jibe for jibe the way to reach him? She feared not.