The Stars Shine Down (12 page)

“I’m going to put up a hotel on the Sixty-ninth Street property, instead of an office building.”

“Why?” Howard Keller asked. “It’s a perfect location for an office building. With a hotel, you have to run it twenty-four hours a day. Tenants come and go like ants. With an office building, you only have to worry about a lease every five or ten years.”

“I know, but in a hotel you have drop-dead power, Howard.
You can give important people suites and entertain them in your own restaurant. I like that idea. It’s going to be a hotel. I want you to set up meetings with the top architects in New York: Skidmore, Owings and Merrill, Peter Eisenman, and Philip Johnson.”

The meetings took place over the next two weeks. Some of the architects were patronizing. They had never worked for a female developer before.

One of them said, “If you’d like us to copy…”

“No. We’re going to build a hotel that
other
builders will copy. If you want a buzzword, try ‘elegance.’ I see an entryway flanked by twin fountains, a lobby with Italian marble. Off the lobby we’ll have a comfortable conference room where…”

By the end of the meeting they were impressed.

Lara put together a team. She hired a lawyer named Terry Hill, an assistant named Jim Belon, a project manager named Tom Chriton, and an advertising agency headed by Tom Scott. She hired the architectural firm of Higgins, Almont & Clark, and the project was under way.

“We’ll meet once a week,” Lara told the group, “but I’ll want daily reports from each of you. I want this hotel to go up on schedule and on budget. I selected all of you because you’re the best at what you do. Don’t let me down. Are there any questions?”

The next two hours were spent in answering them.

Later Lara said to Keller, “How do you think the meeting went?”

“Fine, boss.”

It was the first time he had called her that. She liked it.

Charles Cohn telephoned.

“I’m in New York. Can we have lunch?”

“You bet we can!” Lara said.

They had lunch at Sardi’s.

“You look wonderful,” Cohn said. “Success agrees with you, Lara.”

“It’s only the beginning,” Lara said. “Charles…how would you like to join Cameron Enterprises? I’ll give you a piece of the company and…”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but no. You’ve just started the journey. I’m near the end of the road. I’ll be retiring next summer.”

“Let’s stay in touch,” Lara said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The next time Paul Martin came to Lara’s apartment, she said, “I have a surprise for you, darling.”

She handed him half a dozen packages.

“Hey! It’s not my birthday.”

“Open them.”

Inside were a dozen Bergdorf Goodman shirts and a dozen Pucci ties.

“I have shirts and ties,” he laughed.

“Not like these,” Lara told him. “They’ll make you feel younger. I got the name of a good tailor for you, too.”

The following week Lara had a new barber style Paul’s hair.

Paul Martin looked at himself in the mirror and thought,
I do look younger.
Life had become exciting.
And all because of Lara,
he thought.

Paul’s wife tried not to notice the change in her husband.

They were all there for the meeting: Keller, Tom Chriton, Jim Belon and Terry Hill.

“We’re going to fast-track the hotel,” Lara announced.

The men looked at one another. “That’s dangerous,” Keller said.

“Not if you do it right.”

Tom Chriton spoke up. “Miss Cameron, the safe way to do this is to complete one phase at a time. You do your grading, and when that’s done, you begin digging the trenches for foundations. When that’s done, you put in the utility conduits and drainage piping. Then…”

Lara interrupted. “You put in the wooden concrete frame-work and the skeletal gridiron. I know all that.”

“Then why…?”

“Because that will take two years. I don’t want to wait two years.”

Jim Belon said, “If we fast-track it, that means starting all the different steps at once. If anything goes wrong, nothing will fit together. You could have a lopsided building with electric circuits in the wrong place and…”

“Then we have to see to it that nothing goes wrong, don’t we?” Lara said. “If we do it this way, we’ll get the building up in a year instead of two, and we’ll save close to twenty million dollars.”

“True, but it’s taking a big chance.”

“I like taking chances.”

L
ara told Paul Martin about her decision to fast-track the hotel and the discussion she had had with the committee.

“They may have been right,” Paul said. “What you’re doing could be dangerous.”

“Trump does it. Uris does it.”

Paul said gently, “Baby, you’re not Trump or Uris.”

“I’m going to be bigger than they are, Paul. I’m going to put up more buildings in New York than anyone ever has before. It’s going to be my city.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I believe you.”

Lara had an unlisted telephone installed in her office. Only Paul Martin had the number. He installed a telephone in his office for Lara’s calls. They spoke to each other several times a day.

Whenever they could get away in the afternoon, they went
to Lara’s apartment. Paul Martin looked forward to those trysts more than he had ever believed possible. Lara had become an obsession with him.

When Keller became aware of what was happening, he was concerned.

“Lara,” he said, “I think you’re making a mistake. He’s dangerous.”

“You don’t know him. He’s wonderful.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Lara thought about it. Paul Martin fulfilled a need in her life. But was she in love with him?

“No.”

“Is he in love with you?”

“I think so.”

“Be careful. Be very careful.”

Lara smiled. Impulsively, she kissed Keller’s cheek. “I love the way you take care of me, Howard.”

Lara was at the construction site, studying a report.

“I notice we’re paying for an awful lot of lumber,” Lara said. She was talking to Pete Reese, the new project manager.

“I didn’t want to mention it before, Miss Cameron, because I wasn’t sure—but you’re right. A lot of our lumber’s missing. We’ve had to double order it.”

She looked up at him. “You mean, someone is stealing it?”

“It looks that way.”

“Do you have any idea who?”

“No.”

“We have night watchmen here, don’t we?”

“One watchman.”

“And he hasn’t seen anything?”

“No. But with all this activity going on, it could be happening during the day. It could be anybody.”

Lara was thoughtful. “I see. Thanks for letting me know, Pete. I’ll take care of it.”

That afternoon Lara hired a private detective, Steve Kane. “How does anyone walk away in broad daylight with a load of lumber?” Kane asked.

“You tell me.”

“You say there’s a night watchman at the site?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe he’s in on it.”

“I’m not interested in maybes,” Lara said. “Find out who’s behind it and get back to me.”

“Can you get me hired as a member of the construction crew?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Steve Kane went to work at the site the next day.

When Lara told Keller what was happening, he said, “You didn’t have to get involved in this. I could have handled it for you.”

“I like handling things myself,” Lara said.

That was the end of the conversation.

Five days later Kane appeared at Lara’s office.

“Have you found out anything?”

“Everything,” he said.

“Was it the watchman?”

“No. The lumber wasn’t stolen from the building site.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it never reached there. It was sent to another construction site in Jersey and double-billed. The invoices were doctored.”

“Who’s behind it?” Lara asked.

Kane told her.

The following afternoon there was a meeting of the committee. Terry Hill, Lara’s lawyer, was there, Howard Keller,
Jim Belon, the project manager, and Pete Reese. There was also a stranger at the conference table. Lara introduced him as Mr. Conroy.

“Let’s have a report,” Lara said.

Pete Reese said, “We’re right on schedule. We estimate four more months. You were right about going fast track. It’s all going smooth as silk. We’ve already started on the electrical and plumbing.”

“Good,” Lara said.

“What about the stolen lumber?” Keller asked.

“Nothing new on it yet,” Pete Reese said. “We’re keeping an eye open.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that anymore,” Lara announced. “We found out who’s stealing it.” She nodded toward the stranger. “Mr. Conroy is with the Special Fraud Squad. It’s actually
Detective
Conroy.”

“What’s he doing here?” Pete Reese asked.

“He’s come to take you away.”

Reese looked up, startled. “What?”

Lara turned to the group. “Mr. Reese has been selling our lumber to another construction job. When he found out that I was checking the reports, he decided to tell me there was a problem.”

“Wait a minute,” Pete Reese said. “I…I…You have it wrong.”

She turned to Conroy. “Would you please get him out of here?”

She turned to the others. “Now, let’s discuss the opening of the hotel.”

As the hotel grew nearer completion, the pressure became more intense. Lara was becoming impossible. She badgered everyone constantly. She made phone calls in the middle of the night.

“Howard, did you know the shipment of wallpaper hasn’t arrived yet?”

“For God’s sake, Lara, it’s four o’clock in the morning.”

“It’s ninety days to the opening of the hotel. We can’t open a hotel without wallpaper.”

“I’ll check it out in the morning.”

“This
is
morning. Check it out now.”

Lara’s nervousness increased as the deadline grew closer. She met with Tom Scott, head of the advertising agency.

“Do you have small children, Mr. Scott?”

He looked at her in surprise. “No. Why?”

“Because I just went over the new advertising campaign and it seems to have been devised by a small retarded child. I can’t believe that grown men sat down and thought up this junk.”

Scott frowned. “If there’s something about it that displeases you…”

“Everything about it displeases me,” Lara said. “It lacks excitement. It’s bland. It could be about any hotel anywhere. This isn’t
any
hotel, Mr. Scott. This is the most beautiful, most modern hotel in New York. You make it sound like a cold, faceless building. It’s a warm, exciting home. Let’s spread the word. Do you think you can handle that?”

“I assure you we can handle it. We’ll revise the campaign and in two weeks…”

“Monday,” Lara said flatly. “I want to see the new campaign Monday.”

The new ads went out in newspapers and magazines and billboards all over the country.

“I think the campaign turned out great,” Tom Scott said. “You were right.”

Lara looked at him and said quietly, “I don’t want to be right. I want
you
to be right. That’s what I pay you for.”

She turned to Jerry Townsend, in charge of publicity.

“Have the invitations all been sent out?”

“Yes. We’ve gotten most of our replies already. Everybody’s coming to the opening. It’s going to be quite a party.”

“It should be,” Keller grumbled, “it’s costing enough.”

Lara grinned. “Stop being a banker. We ’ll get a million dollars’ worth of publicity. We’re going to have dozens of celebrities there and…”

He held up his hand. “All right, all right.”

Two weeks before the opening, everything seemed to be happening at once. The wallpaper had arrived and carpets were being installed; halls were being painted and pictures were being hung. Lara inspected every suite, accompanied by a staff of five.

She walked into one suite and said, “The drapes are wrong. Switch them with the suite next door.”

In another suite, she tried the piano. “It’s out of tune. Take care of it.”

In a third suite the electric fireplace didn’t work. “Fix it.”

It seemed to the harried staff that Lara was trying to do everything herself. She was in the kitchen and in the laundry room and in the utility closets. She was everywhere, demanding, complaining, fixing.

The man whom she had hired to manage the hotel said, “Don’t get so excited, Miss Cameron. At the opening of any hotel, little things always go wrong.”

“Not in my hotels,” Lara said. “Not in my hotels.”

The day of the opening, Lara was up at 4:00
A.M.
, too nervous to sleep. She wanted desperately to talk to Paul Martin, but there was no way she could call him at that hour. She dressed and went for a walk.

Everything is going to be fine,
she told herself.
The reservation computer is going to be fixed. They’ll get the third oven
working. The lock on Suite Seven will be repaired. We’ll find a replacement for the maids who quit yesterday. The air-conditioning unit in the penthouse will work…

At six o’clock that evening the invited guests began to arrive. A uniformed guard at each entrance to the hotel examined their invitations before admitting them. There was a mix of celebrities, famous athletes, and corporation executives. Lara had gone over the list carefully, eliminating the names of the freeloaders and the hangers-on.

She stood in the spacious lobby greeting the newcomers as they arrived. “I’m Lara Cameron. So nice of you to come…Please feel free to look around.”

Lara took Keller aside. “Why isn’t the mayor coming?”

“He’s pretty busy, you know, and…”

“You mean he thinks I’m not important enough.”

“One day he’ll change his mind.”

One of the mayor’s assistants arrived.

“Thank you for coming,” Lara said. “This is an honor for the hotel.”

Lara kept looking nervously for Todd Grayson, the architectural critic for
The New York Times,
who had been invited.
If he likes it,
Lara thought,
we have a winner.

Paul Martin arrived with his wife. It was the first time Lara had seen Mrs. Martin. She was an attractive, elegant-looking woman. Lara felt an unexpected pang of guilt.

Paul walked up to Lara. “Miss Cameron, I’m Paul Martin. This is my wife, Nina. Thank you for inviting us.”

Lara gripped his hand a second longer than necessary. “I’m delighted that you’re here. Please make yourself at home.”

Paul looked around the lobby. He had seen it half a dozen times before. “It’s beautiful,” he exclaimed. “I think you’re going to be very successful.”

Nina Martin was staring at Lara. “I’m sure she will be.”

And Lara wondered if she knew.

The guests began to stream in.

An hour later Lara was standing in the lobby when Keller rushed up to her. “For God’s sakes,” he said, “everyone’s looking for you. They’re all in the ballroom, eating. Why aren’t you in there?”

“Todd Grayson hasn’t arrived. I’m waiting for him.”

“The
Times’
architectural critic? I saw him an hour ago.”

“What?”

“Yes. He went on a tour of the hotel with the others.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew.”

“What did he say?” Lara asked eagerly. “How did he look? Did he seem impressed?”

“He didn’t say anything. He looked fine. And I don’t know whether he was impressed or not.”

“Didn’t he say
anything?”

“No.”

Lara frowned. “He would have said something if he had liked it. It’s a bad sign, Howard.”

The party was a huge success. The guests ate and drank and toasted the hotel. When the evening was over, Lara was showered with compliments.

“It’s such a lovely hotel, Miss Cameron…”

“I’ll certainly stay here when I come back to New York…”

“What a great idea, having a piano in every living room…”

“I love the fireplaces…”

“I’ll certainly recommend this to all my friends…”

Well,
Lara thought,
even if The New York Times hates it, it’s going to be a success.

Lara saw Paul Martin and his wife as they were leaving.

“I think you really have a winner here, Miss Cameron. It’s going to be the talk of New York.”

“You’re very kind, Mr. Martin,” Lara said. “Thank you for coming.”

Nina Martin said quietly, “Good night, Miss Cameron.”

“Good night.”

As they were walking out the lobby door, Lara heard her say, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she, Paul?”

The following Thursday when the first edition of
The New York Times
came out, Lara was at the newsstand at Fortysecond Street and Broadway at four o’clock in the morning, to pick up a copy. She hurriedly turned to the Home Section. Todd Grayson’s article began:

Manhattan has long needed a hotel that does not remind travelers that they’re staying in a hotel. The suites at the Cameron Plaza are large and gracious, and done in beautiful taste. Lara Cameron has finally given New York…

She yelled aloud with joy. She telephoned Keller and woke him up.

“We’re in!” she said. “The
Times
loves us.”

He sat up in bed, groggy. “That’s great. What did they say?”

Lara read the article to him. “All right,” Keller said, “Now you can get some sleep.”

“Sleep? Are you joking? I have a new site picked out. As
soon as the banks open, I want you to start negotiating a loan.…”

The New York Cameron Plaza was a triumph. It was completely booked, and there was a waiting list.

“It’s only the beginning,” Lara told Keller. “There are ten thousand builders in the metropolitan area—but only a handful of the big boys—the Tisches, the Rudins, the Rockefellers, the Sterns. Well, whether they like it or not, we’re going to play in their sandbox. We’re going to change the skyline. We’re going to invent the future.”

Lara began to get calls from banks offering her loans. She cultivated the important real estate brokers, taking them to dinner and the theater. She had power breakfasts at the Regency and was told about properties that were about to come on the market. She acquired two more downtown sites and began construction.

Paul Martin telephoned Lara at the office. “Have you seen
Business Week?
You’re a hot ticket,” he said. “The word’s out that you’re a shaker. You get things done.”

“I try.”

“Are you free for dinner?”

“I’ll make myself free.”

Lara was in a meeting with the partner of a top architectural firm. She was examining the blueprints and drawings they had brought.