style="font-size:15px;"> Ryman’s primary residence—a penthouse apartment at 45 Sutton Place South, made Victor and Sandra felt like extras in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Crystal chandeliers, black walnut burl paneling, priceless original art, and a white-glove staff made the lobby looked like the promenade deck on the Titanic. The concierge announced their presence, then escorted them to the elevator and pressed the 27th floor.
“The apartment number?” asked Victor.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the concierge with a toothy smile. “Mr. Ryman is the 27th floor.”
“Holy shit,” whispered Sandra.
When the elevator doors opened, Franklin welcomed Sandra with a warm smile and a hug. “I have been so looking forward to seeing you again.”
What an act! Rhett Butler on the comeback. Sandra was charmed. Franklin offered glasses of Dom Perignon 1993 to top off the delivery.
As the three of them toasted their future together, a gorgeous woman with a sensational figure and long black hair, clad only in a bathrobe, strode out of the master suite and smiled erotically at Franklin. Without missing a beat, he returned a grin and then turned to his guests.
“Sandra and Victor, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend,
Aruba Lucka.”
“Lucka is a very unusual last name; I’ve only run into it once before,” said Victor. “I worked with a wonderful German photographer by the name of Gerhardt Lucka. We developed some award-winning advertising a few years back for one of A&J’s major accounts.”
“I know the work well,” said Aruba, “some of those pieces hang in our gallery at home.”
“What a wonderful coincidence,” bubbled Sandra. “How did you acquire them?”
“Quite easily,” replied Aruba. “I’m Gerhardt’s wife.”
Victor recalled his time with Klaus. In an unusual turn of events at A&J, Victor had been credited with the vision of what had become a successful trade advertising campaign for the Chiquita Banana Company featuring testimonials from some of the client’s best customers. To ensure things went according to vision, Chiquita management insisted Victor accompany the A&J creative team around the country for two weeks to see that the client’s top customers were treated appropriately. Creative teams at the agency, while extremely professional, were known to be somewhat volatile.
That creative team was Aruba’s husband, Gerhardt, and a stunningly beautiful, red-haired creative director named Janet Tramonte, who teased and aroused both Gerhardt and Victor during the day but slept exclusively with Gerhardt each evening for fourteen days while Victor jealously fantasized nearby. What sweet irony, what poetic justice that Victor’s new partner, Franklin, was screwing Gerhardt’s wife!
Brunch went downhill from there. Victor got the silent treatment from Sandra during the trip home, through the family’s Sunday dinner, and into the early morning commute. Not until the next evening, after the kids were in bed, did Sandra break her silence.
“Honey, you know I want to say yes. But I got very bad vibes about you and Franklin yesterday. It’s like the two of you are from different planets. What makes you think a man screwing another man’s wife will deliver on his promises?”
“Baby, give me a little credit, will you? Everything has to be in writing. Even then, I’m not on board until the funds are transferred.”
“Suppose the business plan doesn’t work?”
“That’s a non-issue,” said Victor, throwing out his hands. “Even if ITI fails, worst case, I can always go back into the agency business. The recession will be over, and the agencies will be clamoring for battle savvy talent. I’ll even be more valuable because of my real-world ‘business’ experience.” Sandra was wearing down from the constant pressure of it all. “Tell you what,” said Victor. “Let’s give it one more shot. Invite Franklin over to our place for a Sunday afternoon barbecue. Check him out on our turf, and we’ll see if he passes the old Sandra smell test.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Besides, if we stage this right, I can lay the groundwork to renegotiate a better compensation package: more equity, a higher base salary.”
“I thought you already had a deal.”
“Yeah, but it never hurts to squeeze a little more. That’s just good business. When this is made public, I want everybody at A&J green with envy.”
Sandra invited Franklin that afternoon. Victor also wanted to make sure that Sunday was a complete success. He called Franklin to give him the ultimate heads-up. “Franklin, do you want to get our deal done?”
“Does the chicken want to cross the road?" said Ryman.
“Then listen closely…suck up to my kids big-time.
~
Franklin showed up at Victor’s Greenwich estate with another stunner – a rare black 1962 Morgan convertible in mint condition.
“What a sweet little car,” smiled Sandra as Franklin pulled into the driveway.
“Sandra, dear, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a $250,000 car called sweet!” chuckled the casually dressed Franklin in his most charming tone.
Sandra gulped and then took Franklin on a house tour. Franklin was pleasantly surprised at the 45-foot living room, the 70-foot kidney-shaped pool with trickling water-fall, the five-room cabana with fully equipped kitchen, and the indoor hot tub. But what impressed him most was the wine cellar, carved out of solid granite in the basement of the 240-year-old section of the house.
As they walked down to the pool area, Victor’s sons, Mark and Matt, were playing one-on-one on the basketball court at the far end of the tennis court. “Hey fellas, come here. I want you to meet somebody,” waved Victor.
Franklin got Victor’s signal. “Looks like you guys enjoy basketball?”
“Are you that rich guy?” asked Mark innocently.
Sandra was horrified. “Mark….”
“What’s the matter? What did I say?”
“Enough,” said Sandra. “Say hello to dad’s friend, Mr. Ryman.”
“Mark, I’m not only rich,” smiled Franklin, “I used to play basketball.”
“Really. How about a little two-on-two?” suggested Mark with a confident smile. “You and my dad against Matt and me?”
“Victor, you up for the challenge?”
Victor nodded. Moments later, Franklin returned from his car with a small yellow canvas athletic bag. Franklin slipped into two giant blue kneepads like he intended to dive after balls all over the court. The boys laughed. They should have known better. “Victor, let your sons take the ball out first.” He said with a wink. “I’ll guard Mark, and you take Matt.”
“Got
