The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943

Once again, he arrived in Washington.

As he walked out of the airport, he saw Lautrey waiting by the roadside. Because he'd come in such a hurry, he had neither bodyguards nor a reception, and had hastily recruited a sturdy young woman to act as his driver.

"Hello, Mr. Pierre. Where are we headed? To the hotel, or...?"

Actually, when she received Pierre's call, Lautrey was quite surprised. Although she was the liaison between the Defense Supply Company and him and they had a lot of business dealings, they rarely contacted each other directly; most of the time, communication went through secretaries.

But this time seemed different.

Well, since she was the driver, she had to do her job properly.

"Hmm…"

After thinking for a moment, Pierre glanced at the young woman in front of him and asked,

"Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"What?"

The girl's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at the man nervously. Just as she was about to say something, he continued,

"I'm having dinner at a friend's house tonight. It would be awkward to go alone. If you don't have any other plans, come with me."

Then, Pierre closed his eyes, contemplating this sudden invitation.

The reason for his rushed trip to Washington was because he had received an invitation.

And the one who invited him was none other than Truman.

What could have made Truman so anxious to invite him to Washington?

The answer was simple—Roosevelt was panicking!

After Dewey's relentless attacks, American public opinion was full of criticism towards Roosevelt.

Despite Roosevelt's desperate attempts to make amends, it was useless. The American people were furious. After all, many Americans were bleeding in the Pacific, and yet the damn White House didn't seem to care about the Japanese!

All the attention was on Europe!

This stirred up painful memories of America being "betrayed" in the last war.

So now, criticism of Roosevelt was coming from all sides, and the situation was escalating beyond even Pierre's expectations.

Roosevelt's "Europe First" policy had become the target of universal condemnation, with even many within his own party speaking out against him.

Dewey's attacks were deadly—so deadly that Roosevelt was panicking!

Roosevelt panicked, so Truman came to find him!

Just as planned!

Two months ago, Roosevelt had announced his vice-presidential candidate—

—Senator Truman, this decision took everyone by surprise. After all, there are so many people more suitable than him.

As for Truman himself, although he had long since prepared himself mentally, he actually became even more eager to meet with Pierre.

He waited and waited, but all Truman received was a congratulatory phone call from Pierre.

That was all.

In fact, this was just a tactic—there was no need to be overly enthusiastic, a simple congratulations would suffice.

Of course, Truman had no idea that all of this was just a maneuver by his "spiritual mentor."

"If possible, I'd like to invite you to my home for dinner tonight, my friend."

Recalling Truman's phone call, a faint smile appeared on Pierre's lips.

He was invited to visit Washington as a guest.

A guest!

This meant that, in Truman's eyes, Pierre had already been elevated from a sponsor to a friend. And what did he need?

Precisely, the support of a friend.

But did the support of a friend have to be so urgent?

...

"Pierre, perhaps you don't know this yet, but here in Washington, almost everyone is waiting for the chance to meet you, this wealthy tycoon from the East. After all, no one would refuse to be friends with a rich man. If they knew that the first thing you did after getting off the plane was to come to my place, they'd probably be green with envy."

As Truman finished speaking, laughter filled the restaurant. Mrs. Truman chimed in with a smile.

"Harry, let them be jealous. The friendship between friends is something they can never envy."

Mrs. Truman then turned her gaze to Lautray and said,

"Dear, Harry and Pierre are very good friends. They've known each other for a long time."

Lautray nodded in confusion. No matter what, she never imagined that the "dinner at a friend's house" Pierre mentioned would actually be at the home of the Vice Presidential candidate.

Wasn't this a bit too much?

I'm just a driver!

Lautray couldn't help but complain inwardly. She was only a driver—since Pierre was flying into Washington, she'd been arranged to pick him up. He said he was going to a friend's for dinner and asked if she'd like to come along, since it wasn't easy to get a cab here.

Who would have thought that his so-called "friend" was the Vice President himself!

My God!

And now, the way Mrs. Truman looked at her was as if… she were his girlfriend.

Heaven knows, she was just an ordinary part-time staff member, still in school!

Who would want such a playboy for a boyfriend!

She felt like she was sitting on pins and needles throughout the meal. For a teenage girl, being brought to the Vice President's house for dinner—wasn't that a bit overwhelming?

Was this the kind of dinner party a young girl should be attending?

Sensing Lautray's discomfort, Mrs. Truman said,

"Lautray, let's go to the living room and listen to some music. Let's leave the gentlemen to their conversation."

Truman smiled and said,

"Elizabeth, please take care of Miss Lautray. Pierre and I will go to the study for a smoke."

Everything seemed so natural. After the laughter and casual conversation at the table, it was time to get down to business. Once in the study, Truman took a cigar from the box on his desk and handed it to Pierre, saying,

"This was sent to me by Churchill, after the President announced me as the Vice Presidential candidate."

A simple sentence, but it revealed a lot—the most important being that Churchill only sent the cigar after he became the Vice Presidential candidate. Such a "friend," of course… wasn't really a friend at all.

"Harry, I believe this is only the beginning,"

Pierre said as he rotated the cigar and lit it with a lighter.

"I told you, one day you would become President, my friend. I have no doubt about it!"

"Pierre,"

Truman took a puff of his cigar and said,

"In my eyes, you are like a magician. Perhaps many people in China feel the same. Hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of arms—no one has ever been so generous, not even to their own country."

"Harry, I just picked up those arms."

Truman, who had just put the cigar to his lips, was instantly stunned. He stared at Pierre in disbelief, holding the cigar, completely bewildered.

"You really picked them up?"

Truman's tone was full of skepticism—how could he not be?

No one would ever believe such a story.

"I made a trip to Italy…"

Blowing a smoke ring, Pierre recounted, as calmly as possible, how he came across that cache of arms. Truman listened, utterly dumbfounded, unable to believe his ears, and was left speechless for a long time.

Seeing this, Pierre shrugged and said,

"Don't idolize me, it's just a legend."