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Richard carried out George’s every wish to the letter and even traveled to Warsaw accompanied by Florentyna to meet the president of the Polish Red Cross and discuss how George’s donation could best be put to use. When they returned to New York, Florentyna sent a directive to all managers in the Group that the finest suite in each hotel was no longer to be the Presidential Suite but was to be renamed the “George Novak Suite.”
When Richard woke the morning after they had returned from Warsaw, Florentyna, who had been waiting impatiently for him to open his eyes, told her husband that although George had taught her so much in life, he had now added to her learning even in death.
“What are you talking about?”
“George left everything he had to charity but never once referred to the fact that my father rarely made charitable contributions other than the occasional gift to Polish or political causes. I’m every bit as remiss myself, and if you hadn’t added a footnote to the Group’s annual general report concerning tax relief for charitable donations, I would never have given the matter a second thought.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re not planning for something after your death. What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t we set up a foundation in memory of both our fathers? Let’s bring the two families together. What they failed to do in their lifetime, let us do in ours.”
Richard sat up and stared at his wife as she got out of bed and continued to talk as she walked toward the bathroom.
“The Baron Group should donate two million dollars a year to the foundation,” she said.
“Spending only the income, never the capital,” he interjected.
Florentyna closed the bathroom door, which gave Richard a few moments to consider her proposal. He could still be surprised by her bold, sweeping approach to any new venture, even if, as he suspected, she had not thought through who would handle the day-to-day administration of such a vast enterprise once it had taken off. He smiled to himself when the bathroom door reopened.
“We could spend the income derived from such a trust on first-generation immigrants who are not getting the chance of a decent education.”
“And also create scholarships for exceptionally gifted children whatever their background,” said Richard, getting out of bed.
“Brilliant, Mr. Kane, and let us hope that occasionally the same person will qualify for both.”
“You father would have,” said Richard as he disappeared into the bathroom.
Thaddeus Cohen insisted on coming out of retirement to draw up the deeds of the foundation to cover the wishes of both Kanes. It took him over a month. When the trust fund was launched, the national press welcomed the financial commitment as another example of how Richard and Florentyna Kane were able to combine bold originality with common sense.
A reporter from the Chicago Sun-Times phoned Thaddeus Cohen to inquire why the foundation was so named. Cohen explained that the choice of “Remagen” arose because it was the battlefield on which Colonel Rosnovski had unknowingly saved the life of Captain Kane.
“I had no idea they had met on a battlefield,” said a young voice.
“Neither did they,” said Thaddeus Cohen. “It was only discovered after their deaths.”
“Fascinating. Tell me, Mr. Cohen, who is going to be the first director of the Remagen Foundation?”
“Professor Luigi Ferpozzi.”
Both Lester’s Bank and the Baron Group set new records the following year as Richard established himself as a force on Wall Street and Florentyna visited her hotels in the Middle East and Africa. King Erobo held a banquet in Florentyna’s honor when she arrived in Nambawe, and although she promised to build a hotel in the capital city she wouldn’t be drawn into an explanation of why Lester’s had not been among the banks involved with the king’s latest international loan.
William had a good first year at St. Paul’s, showing the same flair for math which his father had before him. As they had been taught by the same master, both father and son avoided asking for any comparison. Annabel did not progress as quickly as William, although her teacher had to admit she had improved even if she had fallen in love with Bob Dylan.
“Who’s he?” asked Florentyna.
“I don’t know,” said Richard, “but I’m told he’s doing for Annabel what Sinatra did for you twenty-five years ago.”
When Florentyna started her sixth year as chairman of the Group she found she was beginning to repeat herself. Richard seemed to find new challenges all the time, while Gianni di Ferranti appeared to be well in control of the chain of shops without bothering to ask her anything other than where to send the checks. The Baron Group was now so efficient, and her management team so competent, that no one showed a great deal of concern one morning when Florentyna didn’t come into the office.
That evening, when Richard was sitting in the crimson leather chair by the fire reading The Billion Dollar Sure Thing, she expressed her thoughts out loud.
“I’m bored.”
Richard made no comment.
“It’s time I did something with my life other than build on my father’s achievements,” she added.
Richard smiled but didn’t look up from his book.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“You’re allowed three guesses who this is.”
“Am I given any clues?” asked Florentyna, annoyed that she knew the voice but couldn’t quite place it.
“Good-looking, intelligent and a national idol.”
“Paul Newman.”
“Feeble. Try again.”
“Robert Redford.”
“Worse still. One more chance.”
“I need another clue.”
“Appalling at French, not much better at English and still in love with you.”
“Edward. Edward Winchester. A voice from the past—only you don’t sound as if you’ve changed a bit.”
“Wishful thinking. I’m over forty, and by the way, so will you be next year.”
“How can I be when I’m only twenty-four this year?”
“What, again?”
“No, I have been on ice for the last fifteen years.”
“Not from what I’ve read about you. You go from strength to strength.”
“And how about you?”
“I’m a partner in a law firm in Chicago, Winston and Strawn.”
“Married?”
“No, I’ve decided to wait for you.”
Florentyna laughed. “If you’ve taken this long to phone and propose, I should warn you that I’ve been married for fifteen years and I have a son of fourteen and a daughter of twelve.”
&nb
sp; “All right then, I won’t propose, but I would like to see you. It’s a private matter.”
“A private matter? Sounds intriguing.”
“If I were to fly to New York one day next week, would you have lunch with me?”
“I’d enjoy that.” Florentyna flicked over the pages of her calendar. “How about next Tuesday?”
“Suits me. Shall we say the Four Seasons, one o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
Florentyna put down the phone and sat back in her chair. Other than Christmas cards and the odd letter, she hadn’t had much contact with Edward for sixteen years. She walked across to the mirror and studied herself. A few small lines were beginning to appear around the eyes and mouth. She turned sideways to confirm that she had kept her slim figure. She didn’t feel old. There was no denying that she had a daughter who could already make young men stop in the street for a second glance, and a teenage son she now had to look up to. It wasn’t fair; Richard didn’t look forty: a few white tufts appearing at the sides of the temples and the hair perhaps a shade thinner than it had been, but he was every bit as slim and vigorous as the day they had met. She admired the fact that he still found time to play squash at the Harvard Club twice a week and practice the cello most weekends. Edward’s phone call made her think of middle age for the first time; how morbid. She would be thinking of death next. Thaddeus Cohen had died the previous year; only Kate Kane and Zaphia remained of that generation.
Florentyna tried to touch her toes and couldn’t, so she returned to the monthly statements of the Baron Group for reassurance. London was still not paying its way, even though the hotel occupied one of the finest sites in Mayfair. Somehow the English seemed to combine impossible wage demands with high unemployment and staff shortages all at the same time. In Riyadh they had had to clear out almost the entire management because of theft, and in Poland the government would still not allow the Group to take any exchangeable currency out of the country. But despite these minor problems, all of which could be ironed out by her management team, the company was in good shape.
