Heads You Win

“How was the pizza?” Elena asked.

“Simply the best,” said Anna.

“I told her to say that,” said Alex.

“Yes, he did,” admitted Anna, leaning across the table and taking his hand. “But he needn’t have bothered, because it is the best.”

“Then can we hope to see you again?”

“Mother, you’re worse than Mrs. Bennet.”

“And why have you eaten hardly anything?” she asked, as if he was still a schoolboy.

“Mother, go away.”

“Has Alex told you about his plans for a second restaurant?”

“Yes, he has.” Alex was uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t told his mother the whole story. “It sounds very exciting, Mrs. Karpenko.”

“Elena, please,” she said as Alex stood up, clutching his knife. “Well, I’d better get back to the kitchen, or the boss might sack me,” she added, smiling at them. “But I hope I’ll see you again, then I can tell you how Alex won the Silver Star.”

Alex raised the knife above his head, but she had already scurried away. “I apologize, she’s not normally so—”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Alex. She’s just like her pizzas, simply the best. But do tell me how you won the Silver Star,” she said, suddenly serious.

“The truth is, it should have been awarded to the Tank, not me.”

“The Tank?”

Alex told her everything that had happened when his unit had come across the Vietcong patrol on Bacon Hill. How the Tank had not only saved Lawrence’s life, but his as well.

“I would love to have met him,” said Anna quietly.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider…”

“Consider what?”

“Coming to Virginia with me? I’ve wanted to visit his grave for so long, and—”

“What girl could refuse such an offer?” Alex looked embarrassed. “Of course I’ll come with you.” She burst out laughing. “Why don’t we go on Sunday?”

“Lawrence has just arrived back from Europe, so I’ll have to go and see him in Boston this weekend, and tell him what Mr. Rosenthal had to say about the Warhol. But I’m free the following weekend.”

“Then it’s a date.”

*   *   *

Alex stepped off the train in Boston carrying an overnight case and a large carrier bag. He hailed a yellow cab and gave the driver Lawrence’s address.

As each mile passed, Alex became more and more anxious. He knew he had no choice but to tell his friend the truth.

Lawrence was standing on the top step waiting to greet his guest as the taxi drove up the long driveway and came to a halt outside the house.

“I see you’ve brought the picture back,” he said as they shook hands. “Let’s go to my study, complete the exchange, and then we can relax for the rest of the weekend.”

Alex said nothing as he followed him across the hall. When he walked into Lawrence’s study, he remained speechless.

Almost every inch of the oak-paneled walls was filled with paintings and photographs of his family and friends. Alex’s eyes settled on Nelson Rockefeller, which made Lawrence grin as he took his place behind the desk and ushered Alex into the seat opposite him.

When he unwrapped the painting, a large smile appeared on Lawrence’s face. “Welcome home, Jackie,” he said, and immediately pulled open a drawer in his desk and extracted a checkbook.

“You won’t be needing that,” said Alex.

“Why not? We made a deal.”

“Because it isn’t a Warhol. It’s a copy.”

“A copy?” Lawrence repeated in disbelief as he took a closer look at the painting.

“I’m afraid so. And that’s not my view, but the opinion of no less an authority than Nathanial Rosenthal.”

Lawrence remained calm, but said almost to himself, “How did she manage it?”

“I don’t know, but I can guess,” said Alex.

Lawrence looked at the picture. “Once again she must have known all along.” He opened his checkbook, took the top off his pen, and wrote out the figure $500,000.

“There’s no way I’m ever going to cash your check,” said Alex. “So you needn’t bother signing it.”

“You must,” said Lawrence. “It’s clear that my sister’s deceived both of us.”

“But you didn’t know,” said Alex, “and that’s all that matters.”

“But without the money you won’t be able to open Elena Two.”

“Then it will have to wait. Anyway, I learned more in one weekend with your sister than I’ve done in a year at business school.”

“Perhaps we should consider an alternative plan,” Lawrence suggested.

“What do you have in mind?”

“In exchange for my five hundred thousand, I get a ten percent stake in your company. The one that’s going to end up bigger than my godfather’s.”

“Fifty percent would be fairer.”

“Then let’s compromise. I’ll take fifty percent of your burgeoning empire, but the moment you return my half a million, it will fall to ten percent.”

“Twenty-five percent,” said Alex.

“That’s more than generous of you,” said Lawrence as he signed the check.

“It’s overgenerous of you,” said Alex. When Lawrence handed him the check, they shook hands for a second time.

“Now I understand,” said Lawrence as he placed his checkbook back in the drawer, “why Todd Halliday slipped away so soon after dinner on my birthday. Originally he was meant to be staying overnight.”