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“Alright, Mr. Carmichael. You told my husband you were eager to finish this, so what will it take?” I asked, eager to go home. This day had been eventful in ways I never imagined.
“I need a bigger contribution from DuPont Falls,” Vincent declared.
“The fact that you think we should use our tax dollars to fund your stadium is insane. It’s not happening.”
“The stadium will bring economic growth and increased revenue here, justifying public investment. Come on, Kyerra. You know how this works,” Vincent coaxed.
“Fine, if we increase public investment, then we should increase our revenue share, considering the use of public resources.”
“The team’s financial stability is the only way we all benefit. I can’t sustain anything if I’m giving all our revenue to the city.”
“That’s a you problem, Mr. Carmichael. That’s our offer. Take it or leave it.” I shrugged.
“It doesn’t look like we’re going to agree. Let’s continue negotiations over dinner next week,” Vincent suggested, standing up.
“I’ll get with Tyson to see if he’s available.”
“I meant the two of us. After all, you revised the current deal. You’re the most knowledgeable.”
“I know what you’re doing, Vince, and the answer is no.”
As far as I was concerned, this meeting was over. Vince had no intention of agreeing to anything on the table, so I wasn’t wasting any more breath.
“I’m trying to get this deal done. Are you?” He challenged.
“DuPont Falls will be just fine without a new stadium. It’s you who needs us.”
“You’re right. I do,” he replied, sitting on the edge of Tyson’s desk, watching me pack up. “And you’re interested, so have dinner with me.”
Somehow, Vincent could smell that my marriage was lacking. I wasn’t sure how because Tyson and I had become so good at putting on this act. Most people believe it, but not Vincent Carmichael.
Chapter Ten
The Merauxs got their money, removing one thing off my plate, but I needed to keep an eye on Morgan. I knew my brother better than anyone, and he hated being told what to do. Doing so usually resulted in a tantrum that I wasn’t in the mood to clean up again.
“Aye Boss. Bella is on the floor asking for you.” Rod said, peeking his head through the crack in the door.
“Tell her I’m busy.”
Rod wanted to ask why I kept a fine-ass woman like Bella at arm’s length. Nigga’s who weren’t used to shit thought that was everything, but I knew better.
Princess: Hey, when are you coming home?
Me: Shortly. Wassup?
Princess: Nothing, just let me know when to leave.
Me: You can’t miss a nigga that much already.
Princess: What if I do?
Me: I’ll be done soon. Hold tight, Princess.
I was so caught up in my text conversation with Solana I didn’t realize Rod’s head was still perched between the door and the wall until he spoke up.
“She said it was important.”
“I don’t give a fuck. That’s her problem.”
