Manhattan Voyagers. Thomas Boone's Quealy
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shook his head again. “No, they won’t be yours, Hilda, that would require too much of a capital investment. You’ll lease vats in someone else’s brewery and distillery to supply your alcohol requirements, formulated to your own specs.”
She seemed listless again. “Oh.”
“Then, in the next stage of development, you will expand beyond the bar business and come out with a mass-market line of Great Whore products -- perfumes, denim, lingerie, cosmetics, swimwear, bedding, sunglasses and watches -- to be sold in retail stores; maybe even separate lines to be sold on QVC. This is where you’ll start to make the really Big Bucks. ”
“Am I going to have to have to design all these products myself?”
“No, Hilda, in the beginning you’ll merely license your name to manufacturers and collect a royalty fee on sales.”
“The same as Donald Trump does with casinos and hotels.”
“Correct. Later on, you can create your own designs if you want.”
“Just as Elizabeth Taylor did with her House of Taylor jewelry line.”
“Precisely.”
“I’d be good at that,” she told herself.
“You can also enter into strategic partnership agreements with producers of high-end luxury branded products such as Prada or Coach to get your own line sold within their boutiques.”
Her face became animated. “That’s what the three Kardashian sisters are doing today!”
“Exactly, Hilda, they’re the reigning Tastemakers of Girl-Dom and a great example of what I’m talking about. The sisters don’t sing, dance or act, however, their Reality Show has transformed them into celebrities. They get paid a $20,000 fee just to make a publicity appearance at a new club or store opening and are probably the most photographed women in the world.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“And they’re using the power of their celebrity endorsements to market a slew of new products worldwide.”
“I understand now, Eddie, what you’re driving at.”
“Good.”
“But there’s a hitch; I’m not beautiful like the Kardashian sisters are.”
“Celebrities don’t have to be beautiful anymore; just look at Nicole Polizzi.”
“Who?”
“Snooki.”
“Who?”
“An actress on the Jersey Shore TV shows.”
“I never watched it.”
“It doesn’t matter; the point is that even fat, unattractive people can become celebrities today.”
“Hmm.”
“You’ll become a financial industry celebrity, Hilda, another Warren Buffett, except you won’t need to pick stocks for investors to buy.”
“That’s a relief, Eddie, because the only way I could pick a stock is to go eenie-meenie-minee-moe.”
“Neither can most of the talking heads on CNBC but that doesn’t deter them from shooting their mouths off.”
“Hmm.”
“Believe me, Hilda, the Kardashians will have nothing on you when we’re done.”
She sipped tea from her mug. “I must admit, Eddie, it sounds like it could be an intriguing venture.”
“Yeah.”
“Of course, I’ll want you to do the honchoing if I’m going to attempt this.”
His gaze dropped to the floor. “PR is my stock-in-trade but a lot of years have passed since I managed a successful marketing campaign.”
“You have vision and imagination, Eddie, you can anticipate what the public wants. And I have faith in you.”
“You are aware of my history, Hilda, I might go off on a bender and not show up for days.”
“I’ll take my chances if you give me your word you won’t drink on the job.”
He cleared his throat. “I … I was actually searching for a way to get back into the game for one final great project.”
“Well, here it is, Eddie, your comeback vehicle -- The Great Whore of Wall Street -- is staring you in the face.”
“All right, Hilda, if you’re willing to take a chance on me, then count me in.”
She threw up her arms. “Hooray!”
“This is going to be like trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat, Hilda, but I thrive on challenges.”
“Me, too.”
“I’ll come up with a few signature look possibilities to bounce off you in a few days.”
“Ok, Eddie, but I want to bounce something off you first.”
“What?”
“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs since my aunt went back to Austria. I want you to move in. Now that we’re going to be working together, often late at night, it makes smart business sense.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll do it.”
“By any chance, Hilda, did Letitia call you?”
She nodded. “Letitia is worried about you, Eddie, you’re too old to be an office squatter.”
“I … uh … I can’t pay you any rent; I’m busted.”
“Pay me later, Eddie.”
“How?”
She picked up The Wall Street Journal off the bar and pointed to an article on the front page. “It says here that Michael Kors, the designer, just went public with his fashion company for almost $1.0 billion.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“So let’s do the same thing with The Great Whore of Wall Street Corporation.”
He smiled. “You catch on quick, Hilda.”
*
We’ll See
Eddie left Hilda with a new spring to his step and entered the high-ceilinged barroom of the Bull & Bear Tavern where a large oval bar dominated the space. It had been salvaged from a fancy brothel in The Tenderloin, Manhattan’s sin-loving, red-light district in the 19th. Century, and retained the shiny brass shoe rail that allowed customers to rest their tired feet while they cured their thirsts and discussed world events. Large brass spittoons filled with green ferns were placed in open areas for aesthetic effect.
Beyond the bar is a well-appointed dining room with an enormous stone fireplace and large stained glass windows. It has many nooks and crannies you find in older spaces that make the room seem larger than it actually is. Turn-of-the-century gas lamps provide the only light there as Hilda feels they recreate an old world atmosphere of grace and civility. Women customers strongly prefer sitting in here because the pale yellow glow makes them look as lovely as Ingrid Bergman in the movie Gaslight.
The stock markets had been closed for three hours and there was a decent crowd for a Tuesday. Quite often the mood in the bar reflected how the markets performed that day. On this particular evening, the tone was pessimistic and downbeat. All the TVs circling the barroom were muted, however, the closing stock prices streaming across their screens showed the sizable losses incurred on the major exchanges in Europe and the USA. The markets in Asia, where it was already tomorrow, were also down sharply at the open.
He approached a porcelain pretty, raven-haired