I’d been throwing out replies since we passed the first Holsteins, but my brain was on Swiss-watch, baseball-business cards overload. Whoever met our car took my luggage and it sank in that I was to be Julian’s overnight guest. The driver continued across the paved courtyard to a few sedans in front of what turned out to be the staff house and garages. Dinner would be served as soon I freshened up and we enjoyed an aperitif watching the sun set over Lake Zurich.
We turned out to be three of his medical systems executives. Hannah Bischoff from corporate, her regional directors, Willem DeBeers from Johannesburg and Musa Nkosi from Cape Town, greeted me in the book-lined reading room. I got no further than, “I’m intruding; I should be in a hotel,” before Julian insisted this was nothing more than a celebratory dinner after their annual Robo-Technik strategy sessions.
We exchanged pleasantries and moved from the library into the spectacularly spare open floor plan. A houseman served drinks while we warmed our backsides in front of the soaring stone chimney breast and blazing fire. Through the plate glass windows dusk settled over the million-dollar, million Swiss Franc, eight hundred thousand Euro view.
We chatted over dinner in five versions of accented English from Swiss-laced German, to proper Oxford, Dutch-based Afrikaans, Zulu, and my Midwest American twang, each of us insisting only the other four spoke funny (my expression). True to Julian’s promise, he limited business discussion to kidding over my glamorous Mayfair fragrance career for customers’ exteriors, versus their robotic engineering products for peoples’ guts. “I sense this evening was more of a mood lifter than the island stay,” Julian murmured as I joined the others climbing the stairs to our rooms.
Five people with five agendas filled Thursday morning. Will and Musa left for the airport insisting they’d see me again in Zurich unless I chose to transfer Mayfair to South Africa. “You must see our continent,” Musa added with a heartfelt handshake.
“I’m keen on getting you round headquarters,” Julian said thirty minutes later as he propelled Hannah and me toward the car. Of course it’s a Bahnhofstrasse address, I thought as she took charge of my stroll through corporate headquarters, and confirmed my assumption that the avenue ranked among the world’s top real estate. I’d worked my ass off convincing Julian to cut Mayfair financial corners by moving the office out of Rockefeller Plaza. These unrelated world-wide Petrenko ventures had damn well be deeply, deeply in the black.
By early afternoon I was fighting my automatic pilot comments and replies. Hannah was good company, but I didn’t want or need so much management overview, mergers and acquisitions detail, or handshaking. I’d left Priory Bay worrying about too much time with Julian. Now I feared I’d be back on his plane without the chance to present my concerns privately. He joined us for lunch in a bistro among the Paris, Milan, and New York boutiques. Chat cantered on high end shopping and galleries within walking distance. An hour later as Julian settled the check, I offered shook Hannah’s hand. “Auf Wiedersehen and a sincere dankeschönn for everything.”
“Nein! Let’s use ‘bis später.’ Only until next time.”
“I’ve a bit of news,” Julian said as Hannah returned to her office. “Kirk Hollenbeck, the Windmill Beauty broker, tells me considerable resources—his term—have enabled his client to put Windmill on the map. I’d have had none of it but core executives have left one of the largest cosmetic companies in the world to help build this dream. I confess I still think of folding it into The Nudes and Elixir and my wider merger. NBA rumblings require my presence in Dallas Monday. Worth my quick jaunt over to LA. I’m hardly the expert in these things. Best you join me at the pitch session.”
I swallowed my shock. “At the end of the week I have an appointment with Thomas Schuman to review content he shot over the weekend for the UK-C TV commercial.”
“We’ll squeeze LA in between your event and mine. We’re reserved at the Beverly Wilshire and I’ll have you back in New York in time.” Again his tone required agreement.
“All right. I’ll make it work. Good excuse to touch base with my California contingent. However, I have a standing arrangement with the Sunset Towers, if you don’t mind.” He frowned.
“Allegiance. I’ve used Sunset since my earliest fragrance days, meetings and interviews included. I love its Hollywood vibe and they make it home away from home for me.”
“I’m so bloody focused on the bottom line, I overlook the importance of business relationships. Loyalty, Emma. I admire that enviable quality in you. As well, you’ve made quite the impression on this detour. Well worth your stay, you’ll agree.”
“I can say the same about your network of employees. And your hospitality. Not to mention your house and the view. No English Shabby Chic or country casual on that hill.”
“Not here, certainly. I’ve developed an interest in contemporary design, as you’ve seen.” He laughed and checked his (leather-banded tank) watch. “I’m due—”
“Someplace else.”
“You know me too well.”
Did I? I asked for uninterrupted time before my flight. “Indeed. Home by five for dinner and chat.”
He left me with his driver’s number so I could return to his timber and concrete showplace whenever ready. Back at house I managed a cat nap, change of clothes, and quick packing before leaving the guest floor for the crackling fire and fully loaded afternoon tea tray on the Lucite coffee table. Even without Priory Bay passageways and doors set into the panelling, somehow the Zurich staff remained inconspicuous.
Julian arrived as I studied two black and white prints and an oil pastel over the couch.
“Picasso and Chagall. Modernism’s golden age.” He launched into an Art 101 oration. We reviewed the pre-selling stage for the UK-C fragrance, and updates on our commitment to Provence based consultants designing a Mayfair and Imperial presence guaranteed to wow the Cannes Luxury Trade Show, still six months away. He concluded with a rehash of Windmill Beauty stats. It seemed prudent to nod. “Julian, I have a few punch list items, too. Mine are closer to home.” I took a deep breath. “When you sent me to your desk for your dresser key, you must have known I’d see the baseball business cards.” With the exception of a flush along his Slavic jaw, he appeared nonplussed.
“I don’t understand. A problem?”
“Julian! You have the cards! You’re behind the recruiters contacting Ethan. Paul Jacoby in Las Vegas for one. Ethan has no idea you’re involved.”
“No idea? He’s not mentioned this?”
“The interview, yes. Your involvement, no.”
“Emma, my sincerest apologies, but it never occurred to me he wouldn’t inform you. Indeed, I did put out some feelers. The major league reps were meeting right in Manhattan. During our Knicks game night he updated me. The interviews hadn’t worked out so I sent Jacoby his way—to Las Vegas. Neither effort was any trouble. A bit of networking on his behalf.”
Julian thought my concern was that his efforts might have been too much trouble for him?
“We both know…” His pregnant pause tightened my gut. “Ethan’s content. He’s found his niche with the high school and his local coaching.”
“Yes he enjoys his work but It’s my understanding your husband’s still keen on coaching, committed to professional levels whilst he still has his reputation. Coaching rookies and scouting for the farm league is an excellent use of his talent.”
“Jacoby’s coaching outfit is on the west coast. We’re finished with a long-distance marriage.”
“You’ve an unconventional marital arrangement.” He watched the fire for a nanosecond. “Has it occurred to you distance may be the reason your marriage remains intact?”
“My marriage… Julian, this is not appropriate conversation for us.” Yet there I sat, on the edge of his living room couch. “This issue isn’t courtside game seats, or some Las Vegas gambling or convention trip. Perhaps I’m to blame. You’ve let Ethan and me take advantage of your incredible generosity.” When in doubt, blame yourself had diffused many a situation. I moved to the hearth. He joined me.
“I’m so very sorry I’ve upset you. Since Ethan hasn’t mentioned any of this to you, I expect he’d deny I had anything to do with his opportunities. Tread lightly. At the very least, he might insist he had no idea I had a hand in it.”
“But he does? I’m the only clueless one with no idea you’re so involved in our private lives?”
He laid his hand on the back of my neck. “I’m guilty of sending opportunities his way. Regardless, his decision to sign the contract for San Francisco was his alone.”
“He’s signed already? With Jacoby? He’s taking the job?” Julian’s nail in the coffin took my breath. I fought an insane rush to sob in his arms. Instead I started for the staircase. “Bollocks. Though he never said not to mention it, I’ve surely blown a surprise.”
Surprise, hell. “Your interference has given me a lot to think about. You understand I won’t stay for dinner. I prefer your driver takes me to the airport, or I’ll make my own arrangements. Either way I’ll get my luggage to the courtyard; it’s best if I leave now.”
“Emma, You’ve hours to wait. Don’t be foolish.”
I paused midway up. “Do I strike you as foolish?”
