East of Tiffany’s Daring Dudes: Rebel Thinkers, #3

By Marciano Guerrero and Mary Duffy

These short stories offer a rare view into the lives of daring characters that walk the streets of the upper East Side of Manhattan. East of Tiffany's Daring Dudes shows actors, warriors, cops, and executives on their way to the cusp of success, both material and spiritual success. And happiness.

That is why in the book's title I call them winners. They never give up on their set goals. And like oil in water, they always raise up to the top.

All the stories you find here on are based on events, decisions, and help they received that caused them to reach their goals. By writing about daring and winning characters, we hope to inspire readers to become winners.

The defenders of the pre-ordained impede individuals from achieving their goals. We believe in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marc De Lima
• Release date: Aug 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201127633

Marciano Guerrero

Marc De Lima, a graduate of Columbia University, is a decorated and disabled Vietnam veteran, retired business executive, college professor, editor, translator, and author of over 105 books. He lives in NYC with his wife Mary Duffy and Mister Darcy—a Shih-Tzu.

Book preview

The Daring of East of Tiffany’s

Marc De Lima and Mary Duffy

August 27, 2022

PROLOGUE

When You Wish Upon a Star

Becoming a mega star

The belle of the party

Go West!

Disappointment

Watching Over Blue Babies

My Only Anglo Friend

From Academia to Wall Street

Mary Patricia, a Partner for Life

Luis Fernando

Wall Street Cometh

Luke, a Postmodern Executive

Hair problems

Mr. Allen, CEO

Joy Fromm

Melissa’s first nibble

Melissa’s Second Nibble

Erica

A love triangle

Interlude

A Discovery

Victor Santoro

A conspiracy

Ceremonies

Rookie Matías Morales and the Covid-19

From the East Side to the Far East

The Lunar Year Night—The TET Offensive

Prisoners of war

Getting back home alive

The Cobra

Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn

Prologue

The fault, dear Brutus ,

is not in our stars.

But in ourselves.

(Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene 2)

These short stories offer a rare view into the lives of winning characters that walk the streets of the upper East Side of Manhattan. East of Tiffany’s Daring Winners shows actors, warriors, cops, and executives on their way to the cusp of success, both material and spiritual success. And happiness.

That is why in the book’s title I call them winners. They never gave up on their set goals. And like oil in water, they always raise up to the top.

All the stories you find here on are based on events, decisions, and help they received that caused them to reach their goals. We hope that by writing about winning characters, we can inspire readers to become winners—just as they did.

We believe that the theological and philosophical defenders of the pre-ordained hinder individuals in achieving their goals. We believe in life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

When You Wish Upon a Star

One night, when we came back from a Musica Sacra concert at Carnegie Hall, we saw our doorman propping up against the front wall, a tall, young lady. Mateo (the doorman) is a small man and needed help.

Is she ok? Drunk?

It’s Amy—In 10E! Mateo said. Really plastered!

We — my husband and I — quickly lent Mateo a hand, and in no time, we walked Amy into the lobby and settled her on the wooden bench right across from the reception desk. In a while, Amy sobered up a little, letting us know she could now walk. Since Mateo could not leave his post, Marc and I took Amy to her apartment.

The rocking motion of the elevator must have made her sick, for an abrupt avalanche of non-digested hors d’oeuvres soiled her black taffeta cocktail, deep-decolletage dress; even my husband’s Armani tux got speckled.

The next day, Amy called.

She apologized to no end, and I told her the same white lie my old grandfather had told me when I threw up on his new suit on Christmas Day when I was five: Listen, Amy, Marc’s tux was new, and a man’s suit never really hangs right until it has been dry cleaned once.

A couple of weeks went by and I forgot about the incident. Never gave it another thought until I heard Marc yelling from the living room: Mary Patricia, come here! It’s Amy...Amy in 10E!

What’s going on?

Amy ... she is in Law and Order!

Being addicted to the TV series Law and Order — and all their spin-offs — we tape them all and watch them every day. Marc, standing, was poking at the TV,

Right here—there she is!

Oh, yeah. She looks so soooo pretty! Is she a member of the jury?

No, she’s the court recorder.

Amy was a young actress, tall, pretty, with a sweet voice, and what one would call ‘stage presence.’ Was she from Boston? Did that lilt say Boston?

From that day on, although we were never close friends of hers, we loved seeing Amy play many roles in TV shows. We saw her being interviewed by Oprah on a piece about struggling actors. Later in the week, billed as the nameless face you’ve seen in so many TV shows, we even saw her do a jig with Ellen DeGeneres. For a while, she seemed to be in every talk show and situation comedy, never a big star, but always busy.

Becoming a mega star

WHEN THE MOVIE FOR which Amy had screen-tested came out, Amy became a raging success. We went to see it at the premiere night, and Marc all but took credit for Amy’s acting splendid success. And with a puffed-up chest, much like a father who is proud of a high achieved child, he poured praise on Amy for days on end.

Other movies followed. Each even better than the previous ones—total box office successes. At Oscar nights, Marc and I would see her on the red carpet posing with such grace!

She sounded sweet, articulate, gorgeous — yet melancholy!

During the awards ceremonies, when the cameras panned and closed in on her, Marc and I would swoon, nod our heads, and beam with her success. We were so proud we knew firsthand a Hollywood star.

Nothing gave me more joy than to see Amy always wearing my pearls. She hadn’t changed in that respect—she wore no jewelry other than the necklace and earrings I gave her for the screen test. That detail didn’t escape my notice; and in moments of solitude, I would often think she never forgot us.

With much awe, love, and devotion, we followed Amy’s career. Her mega star fame and success spilled over to us, for we felt we were the partial architects of her fate.

This last year, the Academy nominated her for supporting actress. Dressed in a Dior Periwinkle strapless chiffon with a slight Grecian drape, and my pearls, she was a vision suggestive of Grace Kelly — the star who became a princess — and that night we prayed for her to win the Oscar.

But no luck.

Close, but no cigar, Marc said, with obvious sorrow in his voice.

Next year she will—for sure, maybe she will wear an American designer, I said.

But there was no next year.

By now, newspapers, magazines, tabloids, and TV, have well told all the ghastly bits of the accident that took her life—an insane fatal DUI in which she and her date both died.

Despite the copious coverage in the media, no written article or TV piece did ever capture that magic beauty that seemed to ooze not from her looks, but from her soul: the sweet lilt of her speech; the languor of her timid smile; the dreamy, mystic stare of those who linger on visions of the other shore.

Buried in her signature periwinkle blue and peach pearls, she had not reached 30.

We felt her loss as if she was our own daughter.

The belle of the party

THE SUMMER WE MET HER we gave an evening party.

Marc and I live in a penthouse apartment and we used to have a terrace, but I convinced my husband, the co-op board, and the city to let me seal it in. That renovation added over 800 square feet to our actual living space, which when rebuilt, became my dream kitchen looking out onto an enormous bar, den, dining and living space.

Our re-done home, officially Penthouse A, screamed ‘party’ to both of us. I spent two weeks cleaning and decorating the place, sparing no detail about food, music, and beverages.

Amy was the belle of the party.

That party reminded me of my younger years in Boston, of my beloved friend Sally O and the private club on Beacon Street on which the TV show Cheers would later be based. It also reminded me of my friend Lynn and her summer parties on the terrace of her South Shore home—right on the water. Indeed, same type of music, the ambiance, warmth, and friendship.

To be honest, though, I hired Antoine, the owner of Le Bistroquet, due Marie Antoinette, on 2nd Avenue, to handle the food and beverages. Antoine cooks the most delicious exotic dishes you can taste, plus his wine cellar stores the widest brands of international wines.

For many years, Van Johnson — a mega movie star of the fifties — lived in our building before he moved to Sutton Place; so, he brought Angie Dickinson,