Meeting The Tycoon
DINNER was over when Mr. Robert Johansson or better-known Mr. Silver Johansson arrived. It seems like he was already mid-sixties. Perhaps he was known as Silver Johansson because of his white silvery hair. You can tell by her physiques that he was a bodybuilder with his broad shoulders, veining hands, and how he stood. He was kind at first glance and smart when speaking. He also looks elegant wearing a tuxedo.
They met at the restaurant on the fifty-fifth floor of the hotel.
“I’ve seen more of your shots in magazines. They’re pretty outstanding,” Mr. Johansson said.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I need good pictures of my artists for publicity,” Mr. Johansson said as his index finger played with the mouth of the cappuccino mug. “I’m hoping that your shots could knock me over.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Johansson,” Andrius answered.
The old man nodded. “Silver Dust Studio is just a few blocks away. Mr. Loke, the entertainment director is expecting you there tomorrow morning.”
Andrius sipped on his brewed coffee. His attention focused on the jazz musician on the small stage. Mr. Johansson followed his gaze.
“Putting your heart into everything you do, created wonder for other people,” the old man said.
“He sure understands the magic,” Andrius simply said.
The old man nodded. “Photography is just like that, I suppose.”
“Certainly.” Andrius sipped on his coffee again. He noticed a beautiful woman sitting opposite them. It bears a resemblance to Beatrice. “So is loving a woman,” he added.
The old man's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. Suddenly his eyes became sad.
“Are you married?” Mr. Johansson asked.
“Unfortunately, not. I’m engaged,” he replied.
“You love your girl much, don’t you?”
“Obviously.” He glanced again at the girl who had a resemblance to his fiancé. The girl then waved her hand and Andrius smiled in return.
“Do you find her attractive?”
“Yeah, but not as much as my girl.”
“Every man dreamed of the chance to meet a perfect woman,” the old man said and breathes deeply. For the first time, the old man tasted his cappuccino. “I found one, but I lost her.”
Andrius felt sadness in the old man's voice. He then stared at Mr. Johansson. Even the expression on his face was full of sadness.
The old man stood up and held out his right hand. “Good luck for tomorrow, Mr. Novitch,” he said and immediately turned and left.
Andrius thought that if he failed in love, the old man grabs succeed in business. Perhaps, he poured time into his business after falling in love. He heaved a sigh; he was left, and he didn’t leave until he had finished his coffee.
THE NEXT day, Andrius went to Silver Dust Studio. When he arrived at the Studio, Mr. Loke is already waiting for him. The entertainment director was tall, has still had thick black hair but it was mixed with gray ones.
“Mr. Loke?” he asked when he faced the man.
“Yes! You must be Mr. Andrius Novitch, the photographer?”
“Yes, Sir.” And he immediately extended his right hand to shake hands with the entertainment director of Silver Dust.
Mr. Loke invited him to his small office and there, they were served brewed coffee.
“I’ve seen several of your shots and I really admire them!”
“Thank you.”
The entertainment director is strict but easy to talk with. After having an idle walk while drinking coffee with Mr. Loke in his office, the Silver Dust artists arrived.
According to the director, the artists have dress rehearsals. Contrary to Mr. Loke’s expectations, Andrius told them to start rehearsing.
While sitting to one side and rehearsing a spectacular interpretative dance on stage, Andrius started taking pictures.
He shoots the artists from different angles and made sure that he didn’t miss a single shot. His demeanor was lively, and he was really interested in what he was doing. He also enjoys what he’s watching.
When the pictorial was over, he happily said goodbye to Mr. Loke to develop his shots.
When his negatives were developed. He immediately showed the pictures to Mr. Loke who was impressed with his work.
“These are very good shots! Very professional!” Mr. Loke exclaimed.
“Thank you, Sir.”
Andrius immediately called Mr. Johansson to announce his beautiful works. And that night, Mr. Johansson invited him for a dinner.
Andrius then tagged along with his friend, Chuck.
Mr. Johansson brought them to an elegant restaurant inside the hotel. He prepared a lot of food for them. And Andrius thinks that the old man is happy.
“How long have you been taking pictures?” asked Mr. Johansson who seem interested.
“Four years. Yeah, I think so. I was in the Philippines back then.”
“Philippines?” The old man seemed so intrigued.
“Aha. Some of my relatives live there. My mom is a Filipina.”
Chuck on the other hand was quietly eating while listening to their conversation—enjoying the delicious food in front of him.
“Do you understand the Filipino language?”
“Yes of course.”
“We’re just the same,” the old man said from a natural point.
“You do?” Andrius couldn’t believe it.
Chuck opened his mouth but instead of speaking, he just snorted.
“I lived in Cebu for a long time.”
“Good heavens! My aunt's family lives there. Is Cebu really a beautiful place? I haven’t been there.”
“Yes.” There was sadness in the old man’s eyes, A familiar expression he caught when he compared music to love with a woman.
Does the old man fall in love with a Filipina?
“Hey! What are you talking about, dude?” Chuck whispered. Now he was full, and it seems like he was bloated.
He ignored Chuck. “Mr. Johansson, did I say something wrong?”
“I just remembered something.”
“Someone so special?” he asked.
The old man nodded. “Her name is Luna. I met her twenty-four years ago…” there’s sadness in his voice. “I quietly loved her. We talked and danced under the moonlight.” He smiled. “We made lo…” He took a deep breath, holding back the tears. He stood up. “Why not spend another day here in Las Vegas? The hotel is open for you.”
Chuck looked at them.
“Goodnight, gentlemen,” the old man said and left.
They followed the old man with their gaze as he walks away. Even the way Mr. Johansson walks, the sadness carried by the old man could be seen.
“What happened to him? Chuck asked him with astonishment.
Andrius shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s like he got a broken heart.”
Chuck smiled and shook his head. “That won’t happen to me,” he said.
“You can’t tell that, dude. Who knows? You’re such a playboy, you don’t know where karma hits you. So, beware of what you say,” Andrius said.
“DOES Mr. Johansson have any family?” Andrius asked Marcy, curiously.
“Mr. Johansson lives alone.” Mr. Johansson's secretary said and sipped on the cup of her coffee.
"You mean he didn't marry another woman?"
The girl laughed. "He has never married any woman."
"Huh?"
"My boss has been open to me. I know a lot about him. Wait, why are you so interested in my boss?"
"I'm just curious. He mentioned a woman whom he loved. All I thought was that woman was his wife."
“She was his fiancé.” Marcy thinks for a while. “Was it Lara? Hey! I remember. It’s Luna.”
“Yeah, Luna is her name. She was a Filipina.”
“Aha!” The secretary wonders why he knew about it.
"She must be very beautiful."
"I think so. I've got no idea what Luna looked like. But Mr. Johansson always speaks of her incomparable beauty."
"There was a peculiar sadness in Mr. Johansson’s eyes when he mentioned that woman. I just wonder what happened to her," Andrius said.
"Luna was burned and died."
Andrius felt pity and admiration towards Mr. Johansson. Pity for the loss of the woman he loved. His loyalty to the woman was another admirable trait of the old man. He hopes that he will be like the old guy—contented with one woman. Hopefully, he will remain honest with Beatrice.