Chapter 5: A Touch Of Excess

Lou is the CEO of a huge company. Among others it owns this very old factory where they bake famous china services. Plates and cups and everything. They're not Wedgwood, but close. Their headquarters are in my city.

Lou is feared by his people and his competitors alike.

He is also one of the wealthiest men in our state. He is tall, about forty, strong and handsome. And he is as blind as a bat.

As you must know by now, I am the PR and marketing officer of a mid-sized but very profitable company that runs a chain of delicatessen and catering shops in two states. It took us a while, but since last year we've become by far the biggest in our part of the country.

Our reputation has grown accordingly.

Of course I am wiser than to claim credit for that reputation. You see, in PR and advertising there is an unwritten law: when a company is successful, it must be because of its quality, its service and, most of all, its superior management. When things go wrong, it must be us.

Ah, Anne. Don't get cynical. It ruins your soft, winning smile.

Anyway. My boss loves to know big bosses. So he claims to know Lou well. At the country club he talked Lou into considering a joint promotion with us. That wasn't a small accomplishment, considering that Lou had never consented to doing anything like that before. Let alone be enthusiastic about it.

We had a meeting.

Normally I'd be there alone or with an assistant. This time my boss wouldn't dream of passing up the opportunity. Of course he hadn't spent a second on getting to know relevant information. But it didn't keep him from talking most of the time.

It was rather embarrassing.

After a few minutes of silent suffering I got the strange and implausible impression that Lou was staring at me. He wore impenetrably dark glasses, but still it felt as if his eyes were fathoming me.

A bunch of frozen spiders ran up and down my spine.

When my boss fell silent (for the sole reason of having to take a breath), Lou said, "Anne. May I say Anne? I'm Lou. Do you think this project is a good thing?"

His voice seemed to crawl out of a deep cellar. I gathered my wits from where his sudden interruption had shattered them. I had to clear my throat.

"Um. Yes. Uh, Lou, I think there are many instances where our interests overlap."

I then gave him a few suggestions off the cuff on how we might plan a successful joint promotion.

He smiled weakly and rose.

"Yes," he said. "Please work on those ideas, Anne. Let's meet in a week. Would that be sufficient time?"

I nodded. Then hurried to say yes.

He again smiled. He walked unerringly to the door. There he turned. "No need for you to waste more of your precious time on this, Alex. I gather Anne and I will be able to create something, uh ... beautiful."

He smiled once more. Alex didn't. He is my boss, but I guess you got that.

I don't know why I blushed.

The next days and nights were hell.

I recruited my entire staff to help me come up with ideas and to visualize them. I am not a fanatic. Surely, you know me by now as someone able to see the relativity of things. Well, this time, forget it.

I spent the entire week in a daze. I drove myself and my poor colleagues like a sergeant major. We developed enough ideas to last three companies a decade to implement. By the time I was ready for the meeting, I was as nervous as a thoroughbred racehorse at the starting gate.

Then Lou's secretary phoned me.

She said the meeting wouldn't be at the office, but at Lou's villa. "Uhm," I said, "I presumed there would be more people attending. People who ... well..."

There was another mild chuckle.

"Just go there, honey," she said. "You'll be fine, trust me. Lou's a vegetarian."

I knew the villa.

It was famous for its outrageous design. It was only five years old and built by one of those famous Spanish architects. It stood in the small park like a tall ship under full sail. Still, it was simple and tastefully done. And not as big as it appeared from the street.

The gate opened as I drove up. The pebblestones of the circular driveway crunched under my tires. Long, curving driveways had always been my youth's dreams of ultimate opulence.

I was suitably intimidated.

When the door opened, there was no butler or maid. There was just Lou himself. He was clad all in black. It made his body look trim. His hair was pulled back severely. His eyes were hidden by dark glasses.

Lagerfeld, I thought.

He smiled. Then he extended his hand and used my name as he welcomed me. Couldn't I have been someone else? How did he know it was even me, given his lack of eyesight?

The house was lovely.

There was a huge hall with a very high sloping ceiling. A wide staircase swept to a mezzanine halfway up. Lou asked me to follow him. He preceded me without hesitation. He never touched a wall or a railing for orientation. Upstairs he asked me for my jacket. How could he know I even wore one?

Then he led me into a library. We sat down in leather chairs. He asked me to pour tea for us.