THE TAINTED TRUST (Volume 2 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 52

         New York. Monday, April 2, 1990.

Visconti lifted his left arm to glance at his Rolex. It was exactly twelve noon. Adorned in his new cream colored light suit, he paced in the dour reception area of Iacardi & Sons. A white buttoned-down Polo shirt and navy blue silk tie completed his ensemble. To make the occasion of his first date with Kerri memorable, he had rented a long white Mercedes limousine. He had also made reservations for a table for two, downstairs, along the left wall, at 21, an ultra-expensive chic restaurant on 52nd Street.

Kerri appeared in the doorway seconds later. In spite of her private denials about her interest in Visconti, she too had dressed for the occasion. She wore a pleated white skirt, black blazer and pale pink silk blouse. "Hi," she said with a big white smile.

"You look fantastic!" Visconti declared, anxiously looking forward to entering the restaurant with her holding his arm, to experience the rush of having people interrupt their conversations to gaze at him and his incredibly attractive companion. "You still want to do this?" he asked, smiling and reaching for her hand.

"Sure. Where to?"

"It's a surprise. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I like surprises."

"Then let's go. Our chariot awaits."

Visconti put on his sunglasses when he emerged from the building into the warm sunshine. The chauffeur, a sofisticated elderly gentleman, dressed in a tuxedo and standing at attention, opened the rear door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Visconti," he said, continuing to look straight ahead.

Kerri stared at the long white Mercedes, then turned to face Visconti. "I feel like royalty. Is it yours?"

Visconti chuckled. "I rented it for the occasion. It turns into a pumpkin at three."

"Three! I'll be fired if I'm gone that long."

"You've been cleared. I phoned Miles this morning and told him you would be late."

"He agreed?"

"How could he refuse? I'm one of his biggest clients. He even offered to pay for lunch."

"Did you accept?"

"No. I wanted to do this on my own, for more reasons than you could imagine. One of them is to atone for my indiscretion." Visconti winked and extended his left hand in the direction of the limousine. "After you, my dear."

Kerri climbed in and Visconti followed. Kerri, unaccustomed to any form of luxurious transportation, turned to Visconti. "Doesn't it bother you to spend so much money, just to go to lunch?"

"Quite the contrary. It's a pleasant diversion for me. I suppose you wouldn't believe I usually eat cold sandwiches alone in my office. It's also a blast from the past. In the good old days it used to be a big deal to be seen having long extravagant lunches."

"What happened? Why has it changed?"

"No more easy money," Visconti replied with a frown, then turned to stare out his window. "I really miss the eighties. I think we'll all look back on those years as being more roaring than the twenties. Now it's more important not to be seen. People stay in their offices and eat buns on the run."

The white limo glided to a stop at the curb in front of 21. Fashioned from several old townhouses, decorated in antique elegance, and in a class of its own, 21 was the favorite watering hole for the city's movers and shakers, celebrity-watchers and beautiful people.