Spoils of the Game (7 page)

Austin said, “In my business, I find the engineering and the mechanics of business easy, except for taxes and the accounting red tape, but I have a staff to handle that crap. The real problem in running a company is the people. People like your Monsieur Badeau can be a big negative in any company. In my company, anybody that is a bully or can’t be trusted is gone. He has his management style upside down. He does report to Vassar, right?”

“Yes, but Vassar is so busy and out of the office so much that I don’t think he has the time to see things for what they are.”

“Madeline, I need an ally in this project of mine. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. Today Vassar dropped something on me about some national monuments organization that I did not know anything about, and I think I looked like an idiot. I mean, it’s pretty presumptuous for an American to just show up and ask for this or that from the Louvre, and not have my facts together, and not get thrown out. I want you to be my ally. If we are successful, I’ll find a way to resolve your problem with your boss.”

“I’m sorry I said anything,” said Madeline. “I don’t want you to think that I’m a baby, but he has been a problem for so long, and if it keeps up, I have to either sit down with Vassar and hope for a reassignment or just quit.”

“If you quit, you’ll be quitting for the wrong reason, and I sense that you really don’t want to quit. You just want Badeau to go away.”

“I don’t want to quit. I want to fight, but he doesn’t fight fair.”

“If you don’t mind, let me ask you a few more questions. We know what a creep this Badeau guy is, so let me ask you about you,” said Austin. “Give me a quick review of Madeline. Who is she? How did she get here? Where does she want to be, both in her job and in her personal life? What makes you happy, and what, besides your boss, makes you sad? I know what you do for the Louvre, but what have you done for you lately?”

Madeline looked out into the night and said nothing. Austin gave her time. He was asking a question that might be none of his business, and she didn’t have to answer.

“Okay,” said Austin. “Let me give you more of my first impressions. First, you are married to your job. It may be more of a security blanket, because I sense that you are not as aggressive as you should be.” Austin paused to see if he was getting a reaction. Tears began to flow from Madeline’s eyes, which she wiped with her hands. Austin handed her a napkin.

“Lets go back to basics,” continued Austin. “I know that you are not married. Were you ever married?”

“Almost. He was in the military and was killed in a helicopter accident many years ago.”

Austin had exposed a deep scar. Madeline again looked out the window.

“Are your parents still alive? Any brothers and sisters?’

“My parents are dead, and I have one married sister who lives in the village where we grew up. It is about two hundred kilometers south of Paris. She has two boys.”

“How did you get into art?” asked Austin.

“I have always liked or perhaps loved art, and I wanted to be a successful artist, but I had to make a choice between painting and eating. I got a job in a small gallery in Paris after university, and then I answered an advertisement for the Louvre and bounced from one administrative job to another. I like my job but not the current situation.”

“No,” said Austin. “You don’t like the fact that you could be doing much more than you are, and it’s just not happening. Hey, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but the more you tell me, the more I can see it. I don’t think you’ve been nurtured to grow in your job. I also don’t think that you’ve been challenged, and what has suffered the most is your confidence and your sense of accomplishment.”

Madeline again wiped her eyes with a napkin. It was clear to the waiter, who was waiting for the best opportunity to deliver the menus, that now was not the time.

Austin said, “Let me tell you a little secret, Madeline. Ninety-nine percent of the people in the world are not self-made. Almost everyone gets help from the people around them, and your problem is that you have not had the benefit of a mentor or anyone on your side. As of now, I would like to be one of your mentors.”

Madeline took a deep breath and looked into Austin’s smiling eyes.
Who is this man?
she thought to herself. She had no answer to his question, but she assumed that it was good fortune that had brought her an ally and a friend. Madeline felt empowered. Whatever happened, her new friend Austin would protect her and help her fight her battles.

She said, “I asked you to dinner because I wanted someone to talk to, but I’m so sorry I made a mess of your napkin.”

“They have more. Now, let’s get some dinner.”

Austin took the menu from the waiter and then looked at Madeline. Her face was in her hands, and her long blonde hair hung down over her hands. Austin felt himself being drawn in.

“Hey, this menu is only in French,” said Austin with surprise.

After allowing Madeline to order for both of them, Austin had one more question. “Does Badeau have a problem with you working with me, and is my working with you hurting your situation?

“Well, right now I don’t think he is overly happy with your arrival.”

“Me? I am just as nice as I can be,” said Austin with a laugh. “This is juicy. What did he say?”

“Actually, he didn’t mention a specific problem with you personally, but he wishes you were not here. I think the problem is that you have the ear of the managing director. I’ll keep my ears open, but I think he just wants you to go away. I think you say in English that you are rocking the boat or maybe embarrassing him.”

“Your friend Badeau is a joke. I am sorry to say that, because the museum deserves someone better in that position. Regardless of what he says or what he does, he will not be an obstacle for me. I just don’t want any problems for you. I’ve done a little research, and the problem isn’t going to be Badeau. Originally I thought the biggest problem was going to be the Catholic Church, as I told Vassar. Today, however, Vassar dropped a bomb on me when he said that I must now also worry about some national trust thing. The problem the Church has—and the art world has—is that the problem is too big. I did a little research, and back in 1989 the Church established the Commission for the Preservation of the Artistic and Historical Patrimony of the Church. It was a move in the right direction, but I don’t think they are up to the task. There has also been some discussion about the UN getting involved, but I wouldn’t expect that collection of clowns to do anything right. When Vassar gets back, I want to talk to him about talking with the Church. I also have to learn about how to deal with the monument trust or whatever it is, and I have to start thinking about a budget for this project, and who I’m going to hit for the money, and what the project really is.”

“Badeau was talking about your money,” said Madeline.

“My money?”

“After you left his office this afternoon, he told me two things. First, that if I helped you, I still had to do my other tasks. I’m also supposed to find out how to get you to give money to the museum. Badeau said that you are worth about two hundred million euros. Is that right?

“I don’t actually know. I have a majority interest in my company, my dad left me a lot of land and my mother left me some money and stock, and I got some money from my wife’s estate. It might be more or less, but so what? As long as I am trying to do some good in the world and not being irresponsible, it is none of his business. This guy Badeau is beginning to frickin’ annoy me.”

“If Badeau has an interest in your project proposals, it’s not because he wants to be nice or because he cares about the art. It would only be about him.”

“That’s okay, as long as I get my way. I’m doing what I’m doing because I believe in it. I’ll use these bozos and their egos to get my way if I have to. But as I said, the obstacle is not your friends—it’s the Church and the other red-tape machine that Vassar mentioned. If the Church accepts help, they’ll be admitting that there’s a problem. Then they’d have to explain why the problem is so big, why it exists, and why they can’t fix it.

Austin paused, then looked at Madeline. “So what do you say? Are we going to be partners, or what?”

Madeline looked at her new friend and again studied his eyes. She wanted to answer with a yes, but she felt timid about doing so. His question was so direct. It was coming from an individual that she had met before but didn’t really know. Austin Clay had made a commitment to her, a commitment that no one else had made. She had no idea where the new friendship would take her, but she was willing to go.

Austin extended his hand, offering to shake that of his new ally. Madeline smiled and shook Austin’s hand. Austin smiled back with a smile that gave Madeline confidence. When Austin Clay made a commitment to a person, even in a business relationship, they were usually much better off in the end. Whether or not the same would be true with Madeline was yet to be determined.

It was now dark outside, and the light from the candle on the table reflected off Madeline’s face and accentuated her light blue eyes. Austin was disarmed by her ever-changing good looks, but more importantly he was impressed with her goodness. Inside, the beautiful Madeline Rousseau was a good person.

The food arrived, and Austin looked down at the plates being presented. He wasn’t panicked, just a little concerned. Austin Clay was a meat-and-potatoes man and had his limits. A quick inspection suggested that he would be okay. On Madeline’s side of the table was a fish dish and a small bowl of snails.

“So what did you order me?” he asked, trying not to reveal any concern.

“That is a lamb dish in a very nice wine sauce, and these are carrots mixed with small onions.”

Lamb was not his favorite, but he would keep that secret to himself.

“Would you like some of my snails?” Madeline asked, holding the dish toward Austin.

Austin looked at the dish and then at Madeline. “Ah … no, thank you.” The look on his face conveyed more than his words.

Madeline took back the plate with a laugh. “How am I ever going to convert you into a Frenchman if you won’t eat snails?”

“Madeline, my friend, that will be the least of your problems.”

For the first time that evening, Madeline began laughing, and it was a laugh that had been waiting a long time to surface.

“Tell me, Madeline, where did you learn your English? It is excellent.”

“In school, when I was younger, and in the university. I also spent a year at your University of Pennsylvania on an exchange program. I speak a little Italian, and some Spanish, and a little German.”

“My goodness, Madeline, you’re pretty and you’re smart. My French is pathetic, but I am trying. You humble me.”

After dinner Austin insisted that Madeline have a dessert with whipped cream on top to celebrate their new alliance. She complained about the calories, but Austin made it very clear that an occasional indulgence would be good.

“I have an assignment for you, and I will not take no for an answer,” said Austin with a smile on his face.

“An assignment? I think your project will be quite enough … and now there is more?”

“This is simple. I’ve been to Paris a bunch of times, and I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen the real Paris or the real France. In the next few months I want to see those things that the tourists don’t see. I want to get into the private collections and into the unknown neighborhoods. I want to see the towns and villages around Paris and learn the unknown history. You pick the what and the where. I don’t want you to take time from other things that you must do, but if you can join me, great. If I have to go by myself, that can work as well.”

Madeline did not want to be a babysitter for anyone, but this was different.

It had been a good night. It was about ten when Austin hailed a taxi to get Madeline home. The rain had stopped, and Austin decided to walk back to his apartment. On the way he checked his watch and figured that he could reach Carl Thompson at home. While dodging puddles he reached for his cell phone, pushed a few buttons and then heard Carl’s cell ring.

“Nice to hear from you, boss. How’s your vacation or whatever you call it?” said Carl

“Everything here is as I expected. This is going to be an uphill battle, but we’ll win. What’s new at home base?”

“Oh, the usual stuff. The IRS is going to send you to prison, and the plant burned down.”

“Stopped being a smartass, or I’ll come home.”

“Okay, you win,” laughed Carl. “Actually, not much is going on that we did not know or plan for, so we are fine. What is new with you?”

“Carl, I have a special project for you. This might be a tough one because it involves a couple of people in France. Ask our lawyers if they can do confidential background checks on a Madeline Rousseau and a Claude Badeau. I’ll e-mail you as much personal stuff to identify these people as possible. I just want to know if there’s anything that sticks out and whatever financial info you can find. If the lawyers ask why, just say that it’s a possible pre-employment thing.”

“Should I ask why?” asked Carl.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

Chapter 4

Paris/Saint-Abban

In Austin’s mind a firm commitment was needed from Vassar. He was the man in charge, the man to impress, and the man with influence throughout the art community. In their meeting, he had given encouragement, but what was needed was the Louvre seal of approval to give the project respect. It had always been his plan to put the Louvre name on the program, and without it, Austin would be lost. Corporate sponsors would be required due to the magnitude of the money involved, and corporate targets would not want to do this to be nice. Now that he had met some of the players, the human side of the project was being revealed. Dealing with facts or tangibles was easy for Austin, but dealing with the mystery of the human mind was more difficult. He put aside the French personalities, born from years living in a different culture, and tried to concentrate on things he could hang numbers on. Was he being naive about what he could accomplish? How soon would he see any success? Should the plan be to start small on an experimental program and hope that it grew? He had much to think about. Was the Church the real obstacle? Talking with Vassar was something he could work on, but how did one address a discussion with the Church? As a non-Catholic, Austin did not even know the administrative structure. Could this be done in France, or was a visit to Rome required?