The Prodigal Daughter (Kane & Abel 2)

“I studied those figures last night, Jessie, and you’re being overly optimistic. You have no hope of achieving that. In fact, I think the company will lose between seven and ten thousand in the first year—so you’ll just have to hope they believe in your long-term future.”

“That’s exactly what the loan officer said.”

“When are they going to let you know their decision?”

“By the end of the week. It’s worse than waiting for exam results.”

“You’ve done well, Kane,” said the manager. “And I am advising the head office to promote you. What I have in mind—”

The phone buzzed on the manager’s desk. He picked it up and listened.

“It’s for you,” he said, surprised, before passing it to Richard.

“The Bank of California said their loans committee had turned me down, but Crocker said yes. Oh, Richard, isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s good news indeed,” said Richard, avoiding the manager’s eyes.

“Well, that’s very kind of you to say so, Mr. Kane. Now I also have this sociological problem and I was wondering if you could help in some way.”

“Perhaps if you were to come around the bank, ma’am, we could discuss it in greater detail.”

“What a great idea. I’ve always had this fantasy of making love in a bank vault surrounded by money. Lots and lots of Benjamin Franklins staring at me.”

“I agree with your proposition, ma’am, and I’ll call you and confirm at the first possible opportunity.”

“Don’t leave it too long or I may decide to move my account.”

“We always try to be of service at the Bank of America, ma’am.”

“If you look at my account, there’s not much sign of it.”

The phone clicked.

“Where are we having the celebration?” asked Richard.

“I told you over the phone—in the bank vault.”

“Darling, when you called I was in private conference with the manager and he was offering me the post of number three in the overseas department.”

“That’s fantastic. Then it’s a double celebration. Let’s go to Chinatown and have five takeouts and five giant Cokes.”

“Why five, Jessie?”

“Because Bella will be joining us. Incidentally, Mr. Kane, I prefer it when you call me ma’am.”

“No, I think I’ll stick with Jessie. It reminds me how far you’ve come since we met.”

Claude arrived that evening carrying a bottle of champagne under each arm. “Let’s open one immediately and celebrate,” said Bella.

“Agreed,” said Florentyna, “but what about the other one?”

“It’s to be saved for some special occasion that none of us could anticipate,” Claude said firmly.

Richard opened the first bottle and poured out four glasses while Florentyna put the second in the corner of the refrigerator.

She signed the lease for the tiny building on Nob Hill the next day and the Kanes moved into the small apartment above the store. Florentyna, Bella and Richard spent their weekends painting and cleaning while Claude, the most artistic of the four, printed the name “Florentyna’s” in royal blue above the store window. A month later they were ready to open.

During her first week as owner, manager and clerk, Florentyna contacted all the main wholesalers who had dealt with her father in New York. In no time she had a shop full of goods and ninety days’ credit.

Florentyna opened the little store on August 1, 1958. She always remembered the date because just after midnight Bella produced a twelve-pound baby.

Florentyna had sent out a large mailing announcing the opening of the store, choosing the day before the government raised postage stamps from three cents to four. She had also stolen an assistant named Nancy Ching—who had Maisie’s charm but fortunately not Maisie’s IQ—from her old employers, Wayout Columbus. On the morning of the opening, the two girls stood by the door in hopeful anticipation, but only one person came into the store the whole day and all he wanted to know was the way to the Mark Hopkins. The next morning, a young woman came in and spent an hour looking at all the shirts they had in from New York. She tried on several but left without purchasing anything. In the afternoon another lady fussed about for a long time and finally bought a pair of gloves.

“How much will that be?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Florentyna.

“Nothing?” queried the lady.

“That’s correct. You are the first customer to make a purchase at Florentyna’s and there will be no charge.”

“How kind of you,” said the lady. “I shall tell all my friends.”

“You never gave me any gloves when I shopped at Bloomingdale’s, Miss Kovats,” said Richard that evening. “You’ll be bankrupt by the end of the month if you go on like that.”

But this time his judgment proved wrong. The lady turned out to be president of the Junior League in San Francisco and one word from her was worth more than a full-page advertisement in the San Francisco Chronicle.

For the first few weeks Florentyna seemed to be working an eighteen-hour day, for as soon as the doors closed she would check the inventory while Richard went over the books. As the months passed she began to wonder how the little store could ever hope to make a profit.

At the end of her first year they invited Bella and Claude to join in celebrating the loss of $7,380.

“We’ve got to achieve better results next year,” said Florentyna firmly.

“Why?” said Richard.

“Because our grocery bills are going to be larger.”

“Is Bella coming to live with us?”

“No, I’m pregnant.”

Richard was overjoyed, and his only anxiety was that he couldn’t stop Florentyna from working right up until the day she went into the hospital. They celebrated the end of their second year with a small profit of $2,000 and a large son of nine pounds three ounces. He had only one nipple. The decision on what they would call their firstborn, if it was a boy, had been made weeks before.

George Novak was both shocked and delighted to be chosen godfather for Florentyna’s son. Although he didn’t admit as much, Abel was also pleased, for he welcomed any opportunity to find out what was happening in his daughter’s life.

The day before the christening, George flew out to Los Angeles to check on the progress of the new Baron. Abel was determined to have the building completed by the middle of September in order that John Kennedy could open it while he was on the campaign trail. George then flew on to San Francisco confident that Abel’s deadline would be met.

By nature George took a long time to like people and even longer to trust them, but not so with Richard Kane. He took to him immediately, and once he was able to see for himself what Florentyna had achieved in such a short time, it became obvious that she could not have done it without her husband’s common sense and cautious approach. George intended to leave Abel in no doubt how he felt about the boy.

After a quiet dinner the two men played backgammon a

t a dollar a point and discussed the christening. “Not at all like Florentyna’s was,” George confided to Richard, who laughed at the thought of his reluctant father-in-law spending a night in jail.

“You seem to throw doubles all the time,” said George, sipping the Rémy Martin that Richard had poured for him.

“My father…,” said Richard, and then hesitated for a moment, “always accused me of being a bad loser if I made any mention of doubles.”

George laughed. “And how is your father?”

“I’ve no idea. There’s been no contact with him since Jessie and I were married.” George still couldn’t get used to hearing his goddaughter being called Jessie. When he was told the reason why, he knew it would amuse Abel.

“I’m sorry your father seems to be reacting the same way as Abel,” said George.

“I remain in touch with my mother,” continued Richard, sipping his brandy, “but I can see no end to my father’s attitude, especially while Abel continues to try and increase his holding in Lester’s.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked George, sounding surprised.

“Two years ago every banker on Wall Street knew what he was up to.”

“Abel is now so set in his ways,” said George, “I can’t make him listen to reason. But I don’t believe he will cause any more trouble at the moment,” he added, before returning to his brandy. Richard didn’t inquire why: he realized that if George wanted to explain he would.

“You see, if Kennedy wins the election,” George continued, once he had put his glass down, “Abel has an outside chance of a minor appointment in the new administration. I put it no higher than that.”

“Our ambassador to Poland, no doubt,” said Florentyna as she came into the room carrying a tray laden with coffee cups. “He would be the first Polish immigrant to be so honored. I’ve known about that ambition ever since our trip to Europe.”

George didn’t reply.

“Is Henry Osborne behind this?” asked Florentyna.

“No, he doesn’t even know about it,” said George, relaxing back in his chair. “Your father no longer places any trust in him. Since Henry lost his seat in Congress he has proved unreliable, to say the least, and your father is even considering removing him from the board.”