Lydia took out her phone and placed it next to her on the seat. That would come third. Before that was a much needed cigarette. A quick flame and puff and rush. Then she could think. The privacy of the back of her car finally gave her a chance to let her brain work.

In her mind’s eye she pictured the cigarette as something like a gas pump. The nicotine flowed into her mind and jump started it. Images would snap to her more quickly. Her confidence would rise until it met the mark that read ‘Full’.

A wry smile settled on her face as she thought about the contest. Who was better qualified to win something of this nature? Who else understood what the public wanted? It was almost unfair; what could manufacturers and board members do in competition with a woman of media? Her connections to magazines alone would give her an edge that they just couldn’t compete with. Not to mention cable shows.

The trick of course was to figure out what the best route really was. It was a tricky balance between drawing people and respecting history. She needed some kind of eternal theme. Love, maybe?

That might work. She could picture a museum dedicated to ‘Love through the Ages’. It would have full wings dedicated to each of love’s different forms. Maternal, with smiling Madonnas and proud papas. Pictures that represented friendship.

And the juicy stuff, too. Full and erotic works. Passion! Maybe displays on the Sapphic arts. She got chills just thinking about it. That would surely get the rubes in the doors.

Of course… Of course it could easily turn cheap. Probably too easily. That’s the trouble with the erotic. No matter how often you told people to treat it reverently, there was always some slob that wanted to treat it like a centerfold.

How would she get past that? Love was an eternal theme and an appealing one but maybe not the right one for this type of contest. She thought back to the original Wonders. Only one of them had anything to do with ‘love’. And while the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were undoubtedly romantic, they didn’t quite fit the bill.

Lydia hated to let go of the idea of the wonderful naked bodies. She knew that people would want to see them. The old adage that sex sells was based on real experience. There must be some way for her to capitalize on that while still creating the dignity that this endeavor would demand.

What about Beauty? If there was one thing that she knew, it was that America worships the beautiful. She mentally rearranged her museum. Gone were the haloed women smiling down at fat little babies. In came the tasteful nude statues. She could see a comparison of ancient Greek statues and modern bodybuilders. A step by step voyage of nude women to cave drawing to modern would be interesting in it’s own ways. Yes! This was the path.

If she could put this somewhere within New York City, it would be a runaway hit. Maybe down by the park with the other museums. The newspaper features would write themselves. Oh, and if she could only push some religious group to protest she’d have all but won it.

The Museum of Beauty. A fine title. She should make a quick call and see if there were any property openings.

She reached for the phone and dialed a few numbers. And then she stopped. The world was filled with museums. How could she possibly make this one stand out? And was a building that housed other people’s art really the way to go? She suddenly didn’t think so. But it was close. Very close.

Still, she’d settled on the location. Some place right in the city. She could make something that would be a ‘must see’ attraction. The Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building and her…well, whatever it turned out being.

Should her first call be to her real estate agent? No, maybe her legal department for the contract. Not that she expected anything funny there, but it made sense to have the thing checked out. Maybe she could find a wrinkle here or there to wring some advantage or other. She was certain to have some kind of penalty just because she would be building in the best city in the world. That’s just the way it went. Otherwise it would be unfair to the rest. How could some cow pasture in Minnesota even hope to compare?

Lydia closed her eyes and took one final drag. She knew that Beauty was the key. The only thing left was to figure out just what was the shape of the lock.