The Prodigal Daughter (30 page)

“Then the real
mystery is how Mr. Rosnovski got hold of the other two percent. I know no one
on the board who would have parted with their own shares unless…”

“Your three
minutes are up, ma’am.”

“Where are you,
Mother?”

“I’m in a pay
phone. Your father has forbidden any of us to contact you ever again and he
never wants to set eyes on Florentyna
‘ “

“But this has
nothing to do with her, she’s-”

“I’m sorry,
ma’am, but your three minutes are up.”

“I’ll pay for
the call, operator.”

“I’m sorry, sir,
but the call has been disconnected.”

Richard replaced
the phone reluctantly.

Florentvyia
looked up. “Can you forgive me, darling, for having a father who was involved
in such a terrible thing? I know I will never forgive him.”

“Never prejudge
anyone, Jessie,” said Richard as he stroked her hair. “I suspect that if we
ever discover the truth we shall find that the blame is fairly evenly
distributed on both sides. Now, young lady, you have two children and six
stores to worry about and 1, no doubt, have irate customers waiting for me at
the bank. Put this whole incident behind you because I am convinced that the
worst is now over.”

Florentyna
continued to cling to her husband, thankful for the strength of his words, even
if she did not believe them.

Abel read the
announcement of William Kane’s resignation in The Wall Street Journal the same
day. He picked up the
phone,
dialed Lester’s Bank and
asked to speak to the new 187 chairman.
A lew seconds later
Jake Thomas came on the line.
“Good morning, Mr. Rosnovski.”

“Good morning,
Mr. Thomas. I’m just phoning to confirm that I shall release this morning my
eight percent holding in Lester’s to you personally for two million dollars.”

“Thank you, Mr.
Rosnovski, that’s most generous of you.”

“No need to
thank me, Mr. Chairman; it’s no more than we agreed on when you sold me your
two percent.”

Florentyna
realized that it would take a considerable time to recover from the blow
inflicted by her father. She wondered how it was still possible to love him and
to hate him at the same time. She tried to concentrate on her fast-growing
empire and to put the thought of never seeing her father again out of her mind.

Another blow, not
as personal, but every bit as tragic for Florentyna, was delivered on November
22, 1963. Richard called her from the bank, something he had never done before,
to tell her that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas.

F
LORENTYNA’S
NEWLY ACQUIRED ITALIAN DESIGNER, Gianni di Ferranti, had come up with the idea
of putting a small entwined double F on the collar or hem of all his garments.
It looked most impressive and only enhanced the company’s reputation. Although
Gianni was the first to admit that it was nothing more than a copy of an idea
that Yves Saint-Laurent had used, nevertheless it worked.

Florentyria
found time to fly to Los Angeles to look over a property that was up for sale
on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Once she had seen it, she told Richard she had
plans for a seventh Florentyna’s. He said he would need to study the figures
carefully before he could advise her if she should take up the lease that was
offered, but he was under such pressure at the bank that it might have to wait
a few days.

Not for the
first time Florentyna felt the need of a partner or at least a financial
director, now that Richard was so overworked. She would have liked to ask him
to join her, but she felt diffident about suggesting it.

“You’ll have to
put an advertisement in the Chronicle and see how many replies you get,” said
Richard. “I’ll help you screen them and we can interview the short list
together.”

Florentyna
followed Richard’s instructions and within days the letters flooded in from
bankers, lawyers and accountants, all of whom showed considerable interest in
the appointment. Richard helped Florentyna sift through the replies. Halfway
through the evening he paused over a particular letter and said: “I’m crazy.”

“I know, my
darling, that’s why I married you.”

“We’ve wasted
four hundred dollars.”

“Why? You felt
sure the advertisement would turn out to be an investment.”

Richard handed
her the letter he had been reading.

“Seems well
qualified,” said Florentyna, after she had read it through.

“And since he’s
at the Bank of America, you must have your own opinion as to whether he’s
suitable to be my financial director.”

“Undoubtedly.
But who do you
imagine will fill his position if he leaves the bank to join you?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Well, since
he’s my immediate superior, it might be me,” said Richard.

Florentyria
burst out laughing. “And to think I didn’t have the courage to ask you. Still,
I consider it four hundred dollars well spent-- partner.”

Richard Kane
left the Bank of America four weeks later and joined his wife as a 50 percent
partner and the financial director of Florentyna Inc. of San Francisco, Los
Angeles and San Diego.

Another election
went by. Florentyna didn’t become involved because she was so over-worked with
her expanding empire. She admitted to Richard that she couldn’t trust Johnson
and despised Goldwater. Richard put a bumper sticker on their car, and
Florentyna immediately tore it off:

Au + H
,O
= 1%4

They agreed not
to discuss the subject again, although Florentyna did gloat over the Democratic
landslide that followed in November.

During the next
year, only their two children grew more quickly than the company, and on their
son’s fifth birthday they opened two more Florentyria’s: in Chicago and Boston.
Richard remained cautious about the speed at which the shops were springing up,
but Florentyna’s pace never faltered. With so many new customers wanting to
wear Gianni di Ferranti’s clothes, she spent most of her spare time combing
cities for prime sites.

By 1966 there
was only one important city that did not boast a Florentyna’s. She realized it
might be years before a site fell vacant on the only avenue fit for the
Florentyna’s of New York.

“
Y
OU’RE
A STUBBORN OLD FOOL, ABEL.”

“I know, but I
can’t turn the clock back now.”

“Well, I can
tell you, nothing’s going to stop me from accepting the invitation.”

Abel looked up
from his bed. He had hardly left the penthouse since his bout with pneumonia
six months before. After he had returned from an extensive trip to Poland,
George was almost his only contact with the outside world. Abel knew that his
oldest friend was right and he had to admit that it was tempting. He wondered
if Kane would be going. He found himself hoping so, but he doubted it. The man
was every bit as stubborn as he was...

George voiced
Abel’s thoughts: I bet William Kane will be there.

Abel made no
comment. “Do you have the final rundown on Warsaw?”

“Yes,” George
said sharply, angry that Abel had changed the subject. “All the agreements are
signed and John Gronowski couldn’t have been more cooperative.”

John Gronowski.
The first Polish ambassador to Warsaw, reflected Abel. He would never
recoverfrom .
* ‘

“Your trip to
Poland last year has achieved everything you could have hoped for. You will
live to open the Warsaw Baron.”

I always wanted
Florentyna to open it,” said Abel quietly.

“Then invite
her, but don’t expect any sympathy from me. All you have to do is acknowledge
Richard’s existence. And even you must have woken up to the fact that their
marriage is a success… otherwise that wouldn’t be on the mantelpiece.” George
pointed to the unanswered invitation.

Everyone in New
York seemed to be there when, on March 4, 1967. Flonmtyna Kane opened her new
boutique, on Fifth Avenue. Florcntyna, wearing a green dress that had been
specially designed for her with the now famous double F on the high collar,
stood near the entrance of the shop greeting her guests and offering them a
glass of champagne. Katherine Kane, accompanied by her daughter Lucy, was among
the first to arrive, and vtry quickly the floor was crowded with people whom
Florentyna either knew very well or had never seen before. George Novak arrived
a little later and delighted Florentyna by hi~.
first
request-to be introduced to the Kanes.

“Will Mr. Rosnovski
be coming later?” Lucy asked innocently.

“I’m afraid
not,” said George. A told him that he was a stubborn old fool to miss such a
good party. Is Mr. Kane here?”

“No, he’s not
been well lately and rarely leaves the house nowadays,” said Kate, and she then
confided to George a piece of news that delighted him.

“How is nty
father?” Florentyna whispered into George’s ear.

“Not well. I
left him in bed in the penthouse. Perhaps when he hears that tonight you’re
going to...”

“Perhaps,”
‘ said
Florentyna. She then took Kate by the arm and
introduced her to Zaphia.
For a moment, neither of the two
ladies 9poke.
Then Zaphia said, “It’s wonderful to meet you at last. Is
your husband with you?”

The room became
so crowded that it was almost impossible to move, anti the ringing laughter and
chatter left Florentyna in no doubt that the opening was going extremely well.
But now she had only one thing on her mind: dinner that evening.

Outside, a large
cro%d”had gathered on the comer of Fiftysixth Street to stare at what was going
on and the traffic on Fifth Avenue had nearly come to a standstill as men and
women, young and old, peered through the large plate-glass windows.

A man stood in a
doorway across the street, watching. He
Wore
a black
coat, a scarf around his neck and a hat pulled well down on his head. It was a
cold evening and the wind was whistling down Fifth Avenue. Not a day for old
men, he thought, and wondered if after all it had been wise to leave the warmth
of his bed. But he was determined that nothing would prevent his witnessing the
opening of this store. He fiddled with the silver band around his wrist and
remembered the new will he had made, not leaving the heirloom to his daughter
as he had originally promised.

He smiled as he
watched young people surge in and out of the splendid store. Through the window
he could just make out his ex-wife talking to George, and then he saw
Florentyna, and a tear trickled down his lined cheek. She was even more
beautiful than he remembered her. He wanted to cross the street that separated
them and say, “George was
right,
I’ve been a stubborn
old fool for far too long. Can you possibly forgive me?” but instead he just
stood and stared, his feet remaining fixed to the ground.
lie
saw a young man by his daughter’s side, tall, self-assured and aristocratic-he
could only be the son of William Kane. A fine man, George had told him. How had
he described him’?
Florentyna’s strength.

Abel wondered if
Richard hated him and feared that he must. The old man pushed up his collar, took
one last look at his beloved daughter and turned to retrace his steps to the
Baron.

As he walked
away from the store he saw another man heading slowly along the sidewalk. He
was taller than Abel, but his walk was just as unsteady.

Their eyes met,
but only for a moment, and as they passed each other the taller of the old men
raised his hat. Abel returned the compliment and they continued on their
separate ways without a word.

“Thank heavens,
the last one has gone,” said Florentyna. -And only just enough time for a bath
before changing for dinner.”

Katherine Kane
kissed her and said, “Goodbye for an hour.”

Florentyna
locked the front door of the store and, holding her children’s hands tightly,
she walked with them uptown. It would be the first time since her childhood
that she had stayed in a hotel in New York other than the Baron.

“Anothei day of
triumph for you, my darling,” said Richard.

“To be followed
by a night?”

“Oh, stop
fussing, Jessie. Father will adore you.”

“It’s been such
a long time, Richard.”

Richard followed
her through the front door of the Pierre, then caught up with his wife and put
his arm around her. “Eleven wasted years, but now we have the chance to make up
for the past.” Richard guided his family toward the elevators.

193

“I’ll make sure
the children are washed and dressed while you have your bath.”

Florentyna lay
in the bath, wondering how the evening would turn out.

Froi n the
moment Kate Kane had told her of Richard’s father’s desire to see them all, she
had feared he would change his mind once again, but now the meeting was only an
hour away. She wondered it’Richard was having the same misgivings. She stepped
out of the bath, dried herself before dabbing on a hint of Joy, her favorite
scent, and a long blue dress specially chosen for the occasion: Kate had told
her that her husband’s favorite color was blue. She hunted through her jewelry
for something simple and slipped on the antique ring given to her so long ago
by her father’s backer. When she was fuliv dressed she stared at herself
critically in the mirror: thirtythree, no lotiger young enough to wear
mini skirts nor
old enough to be elegant.