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"Ahead of His Time" by Rick Beck Part Three Chapter Eighteen "New York" Back to Chapter Seventeen "Hall House" On to Chapter Nineteen "Pride Pix" Chapter Index Rick Beck Home Page ![]() Click on the picture for a larger view Teen & Young Adult This Chapter Rated PG-13+ Adventure Proudly presented by The Tarheel Writer - On the Web since 24 February 2003. Celebrating 22 Years on the Internet! Tarheel Home Page |
Marty kissed my cheek and he held my hand as Andre drove faster than he might usually go. He knew the plane was warming up at the airport, and he'd drive right to it before we took off for New York.
We moved fast. There wasn't a lot of time to sit still. There was a small jet with its engine running when we got to the airport a little after noon. A different driver was waiting to get in the car, after we got out. As soon as we got buckled into our seats, we were moving toward a long runway where we sat ready to take off. The cockpit door was open, and we could hear the pilot talking to the tower.
I couldn't imagine such a thing a few months before, but most experiences I was having were new to me. The flying in a small passenger jet was a thrill like few others. It was a little like learning to surf, except there was no water involved and I didn't need to keep my balance.
Good balance was required where Marty was concerned. He moved at the speed of sound while appearing to not be moving at all. As the jet stormed down the runway, Marty took my hand and squeezed.
In a few seconds we smoothly leaped into the air and was quickly turning to head east. The pilot kept up a steady conversation with Honolulu tower. We couldn't hear what the tower was saying, but it was all quite exciting to hear.
"We'll stop and refuel in San Francisco and we'll be in New York a bit after midnight. I'll need to be at the office first thing in the morning to be briefed on what the meeting is about. It's the kind of thing you can never quite be prepared for, but they'll need to get me up to speed."
"You don't know what it's about?" I asked.
"Hostile takeover of my primary investment interests. This is something that happens when you go public. I have some idea of who it is and I'll need to head them off or lose control of the most profitable businesses I have interests in. I have to be there to make sure my shares are properly positioned to keep control. That's the emergency."
The penthouse apartment was lit up and ready to be occupied. No one was there when we got to the suite, but five minutes after we sat down and were having a drink, a man knocked before wheeling in a cart with several covered plates on it. He bowed in our direction and he backed out of the room.
"Club sandwiches. I always get clubs when I come in late. If you want something more, they can bring it up, but as soon as I eat a bit, I'll need to get to bed," he told me.
"Me too," I said, going to the cart and bringing Marty back his sandwich and I sat down with my own beautiful club. It was fresh and flavorful. It went well with ginger ale.
I got up shortly after the alarm rang, and after Marty showered, I showered, and he was dressed when I came out of the bathroom drying my hair with a huge fluffy towel.
"The tan suit will do nicely, and the tie drawer is the top drawer in your dresser. I think the brown loafers will go well."
"I don't have a tan suit," I said.
"That's your closet. Suits on the right, shirts on the left. Pick something you like that goes with brown. Shoes on the floor under the suits."
I opened the closet door and there were a dozen suits and two dozen shirts hanging inside with a half dozen pairs of shoes on the floor.
"I didn't think you would mind. I had them make up different suits for you when they did the Armani. I knew we'd need changes for you."
Once I was dressed and slipping into the loafers, I went to where Marty stood, and I kissed him.
"You so thoughtful. They're beautiful. You're beautiful."
"Your beauty puts me to shame," he said, kissing me right back. "We'll get a bite in the restaurant downstairs. We're only going a block. Don't eat too much, this will be intense and after the meeting we will be going to a restaurant. Tonight we're going to take in a show. You'll need to tell me which one you would like to see, Joshua."
"I've never been to a show."
"Broadway is an experience everyone should have. A live stage show is about as amazing as it gets. It's quite invigorating. The talent is breathtaking."
We got coffee and I had an English muffin with strawberry jam. By eight we were walking into a building that was less than a block away.
Once again I sat in on the meeting and I got to hear Marty at work. Abbots Tech was trying to take over Kinder Bon. Marty owned forty three percent of the stock and nine percent were in the hands of an ally up until now. Abbots had bought a total of forty eight percent and claimed to have the support of the other nine percent.
In other words, they had the controlling interest.
"I'll talk to Morton Stills and do what is necessary to get him back on board. We can't let Abbots take over. I won't let that happen. You can depend on that. Keep me up to date and I'll arrange a meeting with Morton for today or tomorrow. Once I speak to him, we'll make clear to Abbot, we aren't interested in his takeover attempt. It will cost us, but we must stay in control. These companies are at the heart of Kinder Bon, and represent half my portfolio."
By the time the meeting ended at ten that morning, Marty had a stack of papers an inch high in front of him. It was all the data and facts and figures concerning Kinder Bon. It wasn't his main business, but it was one of his most important assets. Marty didn't intend to lose control. By the end of the meeting, Marty was pleased with the outcome and we were off on a day of exploring New York City.
That evening we went to a street party not far from Marty's suite on top of the city. We walked to the street where residents set up a booth in front of where they lived and anything Italian you could think of was sold to passersby along one block. We stopped for a sausage sandwich with all the fixings, a delicious sauce, and the freshest vegetables ever. The flavor exploded on my taste buds.
Who would have thought you could get an Italian families fresh cooked recipe on a street in New York. The street was closed at both ends, and booths ran along the entire block. It was a little like a carnival atmosphere. The people were all relaxed and friendly.
We stopped for lasagna, rigatoni, and different pastas.
"This is a poor man's dinner," Marty told me.
We walked and ate. We ate and walked.
"I've never tasted better food. How can they keep it so tasty while cooking out on the street?" I asked.
"They cook it in their houses and bring it to the booth as needed. Nothing cost very much and people show off their cooking skills. Many of the foods are old family recipes that come from the old country. That's why there is such variety. I like the atmosphere. The people are so pleasant, while wanting you to have the best food they can offer."
"I've never seen anything like it. New York is so big and so crowded," I said. "Right in the middle of it is a taste of Italy."
"Controlled chaos," Marty said. "This is one of the most diverse cities in the world. People from every country all working and living together to create what you see. It's America. The promise to immigrants, you can make it here if you don't mind hard work."
"I haven't worked since I left home."
"Not true. You have learned about me and my business empire. That's work and one day you'll be a big help to me, Joshua. That is why you are seeing what I'm showing you. I've been looking for a lad like you since I made my first million."
"I'd like to think I could help in some way. I've been on a vacation since I met you. I've never been so far or seen so much. There is a big wide world that I know nothing about."
"Now that you're grown, you'll learn about it. Next week we'll go to Hong Kong. I had one of my biggest businesses in Hong Kong. I go a couple of times a year, but my Asian holdings are all stable and run more effectively by my managers than I could run them."
"I don't have a passport. Don't I need a passport?"
"Being prepared as we speak. We'll get it while we're in New York. I have people who take care of things like that."
"You can do that?" I asked.
"Joshua, there's nothing I can't do. When you have money, people are dying to assist you in any way they can. All I need to do is ask, and it's taken care of without any fuss. Get use to it, Kid. I plan to sweep you off your feet one way or another."
"I don't understand that world," I said. "In Eagle Point, if you need something, you wait in line for it, if there is even a line. Many things you need to wait for someone to show up to get you what you need."
"When you're in business, time is precious. You don't want to be tied up with the mundane. It's not a problem. People love doing favors for a man who has unlimited wealth."
Andre was waiting for us at the end of the block. We got in and we drove up and down Broadway, while I was dazzled by all the glitz.
"We're going to see Phantom of the Opera. Wonderful Show. Well produced and marvelously put on as one of the hottest tickets on Broadway," he said. "I didn't dare think I could get tickets for that particular show."
He was right about the entertainment consuming anyone in the audience. The dancing, singing, and acting was superb. The excitement ran through the audience and enraptured everyone there.
Nothing was a problem for Marty. His New York City penthouse wasn't quite as luxurious as the one in Honolulu, but we could see the entire city from the balcony. There was a helipad on the roof a few feet away from his French doors. I never knew people lived like Marty lived.
There were storms that night and the entire city disappeared below the clouds. I'd never been more amazed. We stood at the glass doors looking out at what must have been very high winds. The glass didn't even move as the rain pelted it.
"We kissed and held each other for a long time after sex. This was a gentle affair. Nothing like teenage boys pounding out an orgasm. Sweating and out of breath, we wait a few minutes and do it all over again.
Marty was a one and done kind of a guy. It was a nice change. Even when I was with Andy, there was a rush to get to what we were after. Marty wasn't a guy who wanted to keep repeating the sex act. If you took your time and did it right, once was enough, and there was sleep to be had before morning.
The change didn't surprise me, but it was new from anything I knew. The Kanes could go most of the night, and keep at it after the sun came up. They weren't all like that, and it wasn't every night, but it was done at a furious pace on nights I was invited to stay.
Marty wasn't a party animal. He was not a sexual tyrannosaurus. He liked being held and I rubbed his shoulders when he was tense. I got to know Marty fairly well. He wasn't complicated. I liked seeing him smile. I liked it when we were alone and there was nothing on his mind. I liked it when he asked what I thought after we'd heard a presentation. I felt like I had more value than I'd had before I met Marty. I did remember how he handled the boys at Hall House. I felt like he made those boys feel.
Marty did not wield his power dangerously. He approached each difficulty with care. He explained how he wanted the business to be concluded. He went about making sure it was concluded that way. If he felt the momentum going against him, he stood and excused himself without comment. By the time he was back, the tide had turned, and he once more had control of the situation at Kinder Bon.
If Marty left a meeting, I went with him. One day, after he watched his adversaries rallying support for their position, we went to a park or to get an ice cream. He might talk about the city we were in. He might not talk at all. What we didn't do was talk about the confrontation.
When Marty walked away, no business could be done, until he came back into the room. That might be in ten minutes. It might be in two hours. I never knew what dictated how long, but Marty knew when it was time to return, and he usually returned to a more conciliatory room.
Everything seemed to revolve around Marty. It obvious he knew what to do and when to do it. He didn't always like the outcome, but I knew that because he told me. He also knew when he was wasting his time, and he did not like wasting his time. Unreasonable people were a waste of time. He told me that.
If he thought there was too much business being conducted one day, he might try to send me off on an adventure to get my mind off of his business. He wanted me to learn it but not drowned in it.
He succeeded in getting me to go off without him a couple of times. When I figured out that's what he was doing, I turned down his offers to send me somewhere more entertaining than his offices.
I actually found what he did to be of interest to me. I'd never been included in a meeting that didn't involve a principal or vice principal and at least one irate teacher. It was much like Marty's meetings, I listened and had nothing to say about it. Now I did have something to say about it, and if Marty stayed, his protégé stayed with him.
Marty mostly listened to people reporting to him, and if he said something, everyone wrote it down, whether or not it pertained to them.
His advisors spoke when he spoke to them. Each seemed to know what his or her job was, and they responded appropriately. In New York, we started out being driven to a destination, and then Marty did or didn't use the car to come and go from different places. He usually knew where we would head before the subject of food came up, and some meetings went on for hours, so food and drink was required once it ended.
I sat beside Marty in meetings. I listened to the reports given him. I even remembered some of it that interested me. I didn't know much about the speakers, but some seemed like they were on the ball, and others seemed as though they were faking it. Making it up as they went along. Marty listened with the same intensity to each speaker. He could separate the information he was given. He remembered the important stuff and forgot the nonsense. He didn't forget who gave him the best information. He also remembered who gave him nothing of value. Those would not be getting a Christmas bonus, if they still worked for him at Christmas.
"Come. We need to be on the roof," Marty said.
We'd just come out of a meeting, and we were in the elevator on the way to the top of the building where a helicopter waited for us.
Marty put on a headset as soon as he sat in the copter.
"Let's go to the studio, Winston. There will be a food truck arriving about now. You can get a bite there. Very good food, and the cast and staff will be eating."
Marty talked loud enough that I heard every word.
"Studio?"
"Pride Pix. One of my sidelines. We make gay oriented movies. No, not porn. We try to make a point with our pictures. We speak to most LGBTQ+ audiences. That's not to say we don't try to inform anyone interested in gay rights or the gay condition. We are an educational Enterprise."
Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm
@yahoo.com
On to Chapter Nineteen
"Pride Pix"
Back to Chapter Seventeen
"Hall House"
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