The impressees tonight include a group of about 15 Flushing business people, bankers, and community politicians. Flushing is famous for its riotous ethnic and cultural diversity, but in recent years, its Chinese community has especially thrived. Lee has made his fortune on real estate development there, relying heavily on investment from a vast network of Flushing Chinese business people. He has already developed one large project there, the Queens Crossing complex, and his planned Flushing Commons development is among New York's very few huge, ambitious projects in the works. New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg has endorsed it enthusiastically. But many groups in Flushing are opposing the project, which has been wending its way through various bureaucracies for five years. To counter the criticism, Lee and especially Meyer spend much of their time making their case and forging stronger community ties. And so it is that the two have helped arrange for a China tour for these influential Flushingites.
Also here is a manager from a U.S. investment bank that is considering investing in Lee's projects and a manager from Shanghai Construction Group, a giant Chinese company that is partially government owned. Lee's ties to Shanghai Construction have been strategic to him since he was a subcontractor to the company in the early '90s, when Shanghai Construction built the Chinese consulate in New York City. The bank, Shanghai Construction, the Flushing movers and shakers—each of these contacts is individually important to Lee, but when brought together, they are worth more than the sum of the parts, because now they can influence and benefit from one another, further enhancing Lee's standing with all of them.
Lee's daughter Catherine joins the party. A stylish and polished 31, Catherine has held positions in China real estate development with two U.S. real estate industry titans. In 2009, she joined her father's company as a vice president, and she has much of the responsibility for making sure the Nanjing project stays on track. Now that both his daughter and Meyer are here to work the crowd, Lee himself seems content to stand back, literally in the shadows. But he misses nothing, and occasionally he calls Meyer over to point out someone who needs attention. Lee also almost never goes more than three minutes before speaking urgently into his cell phone, without ever taking his eyes off the crowd.
Sunday
We are at opening day plus one of the Shanghai Expo, a World's Fair—style event that has attracted global attention and tens of millions of visitors. Just as we are finishing up a VIP tour of the much-talked-about China pavilion, Meyer gets word that Annie Wu, a top executive of the World Trade Centers Association, has agreed to meet Lee at a restaurant nearby in the expo. We rush over. Though most people think of New York's former Twin Towers when they hear World Trade Center, that complex was simply the world's most famous World Trade Center. Most major cities around the world have World Trade Centers licensed by the association. Lee managed to secure the World Trade Center license for his Nanjing project early in the planning stages, which impressed the Nanjing government and helped Lee secure approval for the project. The World Trade Center folks, naturally, are delighted to be represented in Nanjing. Again, Lee has arranged for different groups to benefit from one another, all to his own benefit.
We are shown around by a manager and an assistant, and Lee almost immediately asks both of them what their salaries are. Incredibly, they tell him.
When we get to the restaurant, we are kept waiting and are eventually told that Wu is meeting in a private room with a number of other VIPs, and there simply isn't room for anyone else. Lee clearly takes this as a snub, and Meyer has to twist his arm to get him to stay and accept the invitation of some other WTC managers for lunch. Sulking, Lee slips into the bathroom, where I hear him shouting into his cell phone. The shouting suddenly stops, and he emerges, the picture of patience and goodwill. He is outgoing and charming through lunch. As soon as lunch is over, he pulls Meyer aside and tells him he is to do whatever it takes to set up a meeting between Lee and Wu, anyplace, anytime. He repeats this to Meyer five times within half an hour. Meyer can't understand why Lee is so intensely keen on meeting Wu after being shut out by her.
In the evening, we check out a well-known high-end Shanghai hotel, because the company that operates it is a candidate to manage the hotel that will be a key part of the Nanjing project. We are shown around by the manager and an assistant, and Lee almost immediately asks both of them what their salaries are. Incredibly, they tell him, and Lee casually suggests they consider leaving to work for him for more money. Even if nothing comes of the offer, Lee tells me later, the salary information is valuable to him, and now both employees want to stay on his good side and thus are more willing to give him inside information. Although much of what Lee does doesn't seem quite right at the time, he does have a way of looking effective in retrospect.
Monday
At F&T's cramped Shanghai offices, a U.S. architectural firm presents its recommendations for reshaping the plans for the Nanjing project, plans originally prepared by another firm. Lee has brought in this new firm in part because the Chinese government hired it to come up with the plans for a large office building in Nanjing, and Lee likes the idea of working with a firm that already has good Chinese contacts—it means those contacts become his contacts, too, plus the government will appreciate having its judgment confirmed. The new plans suggest shifting 130,000 square feet of floor space from the retail part of the development to the hotel—a risky move, because the retail portion is far more likely to be profitable. Bickering ensues among Lee's executive team members with regard to whether the new plan is better than the first plan, whether they're taking too long to decide, whether they even have enough information to decide. "We don't even know how many square feet we need for a toilet," grumbles Howard Hsu, Lee's chief architect. Occasionally, the heated dialogue slides from English into Chinese, leaving Meyer in the dark. He keeps prodding everyone to keep it in English, but once or twice gives up and plays games on his cell phone for a few minutes before trying again to steer everyone back to English. After 20 minutes, they have to break it off, because there is a train to Nanjing to catch. Just then, Meyer is stunned to get a call informing him that Annie Wu is on her way over. Lee becomes near hysterical, barking out instructions. He acts as if making a good impression on Wu is a life-or-death matter, and again Meyer tells me he's baffled by Lee's acute interest.
