A New Foundation Rochelle Alers (read aloud .txt) 📖

Sonja bit on her lip to keep from laughing. “Yes.”

“Good. Send me your email address, and I’ll have Patrick send you a list of documents he’ll need for your personnel file. I know he’ll want a résumé and unofficial copies of your college transcripts. He’d wanted to ask for letters of recommendation, but I told him I’d vouch for you. He’s setting up payroll for direct deposit so he will need your banking information. I’m projecting your start day will be the first week in May. Meanwhile, I’ll search for hotels in the area and instruct Patrick to set up a corporate account for you. It will be the same with the leased car. I’ll arrange for it to be delivered to you the day you check into the hotel. You’re going to need a credit card for anything that’s business related. Just make certain to save the receipts because my brother is—excuse the expression—a tight-ass CPA who will go ballistic if he can’t account for every penny.”

“Tight-ass or scrooge?”

“Both. I’m willing to go along with his edicts because Patrick is a genius when it comes to accounting and taxation.”

“Will I get to meet him?” Sonja asked.

“I doubt it. Right now, he’s living in Napa with his fiancée. She comes from a family of winemakers. A few years back Patrick worked for her uncle, who’d begun a startup vineyard on Long Island’s North Shore. Next year will be the first time from the initial planting that they will get their first harvest. He told me the first vintage probably won’t be bottled for another two years after that.”

Sonja recalled dozens of dusty and cobweb-covered wine bottles in the château’s cellar. “Does he plan to become the vintner for Bainbridge Cellars?”

Taylor’s sigh reverberated through the speaker. “I’m hoping he will. But, if he doesn’t, then I’m going to bring in a wine taster to judge the quality of the wine in the cellar. If he gives it a thumbs-up, then I’m willing to hire a vintner and workers to restore the vineyard and put in new plantings.”

“I just had an idea, Taylor.”

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Sonja went completely still, wondering if Taylor had meant to call her ‘sweetheart,’ or if the endearment had slipped out unconsciously. “You’d talked about the gardens and orchard, but have you given any thought to putting in a farm?”

“What type of farm?”

“A vegetable farm. After all, New Jersey is touted as the Garden State.”

“That it is, but who’s going to maintain the farm?”

“Really, Taylor? You hire someone. You’ll save a lot of money if you grow your own produce in greenhouses year-round and offer farm-to-table dining.”

A beat passed. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

“I have a few more.”

“Do you want to tell me about them?”

Sonja smiled when she registered laughter in Taylor’s query. “I’ll wait until I see you again.”

“I’m always open to your suggestions as long as they are within the realm of possibility.”

“Like raising chickens, ducks and sheep?”

“That’s enough, Sonja. I have no intention of operating Old MacDonald’s farm.”

“Why not? You’ll have stables for horses, so why not house the chickens, ducks and sheep in the barn? There’s nothing better than fresh chicken and duck eggs.”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

His accusatory tone was beginning to annoy Sonja. “Forget it, Taylor.”

“No, Sonja, I’m not going to forget it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it now. The next time we get together I’ll have put everything on paper.”

“Okay.”

“After I hang up I’ll text you my email.”

“Okay,” Taylor repeated.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Sonja ended the call. If Taylor had been willing to listen without prejudice, Sonja would have explained she’d toured the Loire Valley and had stopped to eat at a château offering farm-to-table meals. The owners raised their own chickens and ducks, and the difference between store-bought refrigerated eggs and ones gathered daily were remarkable. It was the same with the freshly picked vegetables and free-range poultry.

As promised, Sonja would write down her ideas, suggestions and recommendations, and present them to Taylor. It wouldn’t bother her if he rejected them—just the fact that he would take the time to listen was enough. She texted Taylor her email address and then returned her attention to the photos she’d taken at Bainbridge House.

A knock on her bedroom door got her attention. She smiled. Her aunt had come home. “Hi, Titi Yolie.” Sonja shifted on the bench seat in front of the table where she’d set her laptop and printer. “Come and see the pictures I took of the mansion.”

Yolanda walked in, sat beside Sonja and slowly shook her head. “That’s what I call wretched excess. I’ll never understand why rich folks in this country felt the need to build these monstrosities.”

“During the Gilded Age, America’s nouveau riche flaunted their wealth to emulate European royalty,” Sonja explained. “They had everything but the titles, while Europe’s landed gentry needed money to run their estates and were willing to trade their titles for cash. It became a win-win when young American heiresses married English nobility to become a princess, duchess, viscountess or a marchioness. Winston Churchill’s mother was an American socialite, Consuelo Vanderbilt married the Duke of Marlborough, and Princess Diana’s American great-grandmother had been a baroness.”

“That’s so tacky. Selling yourself for a title.”

“Word,” Sonja said in agreement. “American heiresses that married into the British aristocracy were referred to as ‘Dollar Princesses.’ Marrying an aristocrat was seen as a way for them to raise their social status.”

“That’s crazy, Sonja. If they are millionairesses, shouldn’t that be status enough?”

“Not for them. They were the daughters of self-made men who didn’t have the social standing of longtime members of high society.”

“Are you saying they were shunned?” Yolanda asked.

“Yes, because they were new and not old money, and they’d believed a title would enhance their position among America’s social elite. Unfortunately for some of these titled princesses they did not have a happily-ever-after. Princess Diana’s great-grandmother divorced her husband, while Consuelo Vanderbilt also divorced