A knock sounded on his office door, and he looked up to find Bacchus there.
“There is a man from Ms. Malis’s gym who is here to speak with you. A Mr. Lefteris Demo.”
Zervou frowned. Ari hadn’t been gone long enough for something to be wrong, had she? He didn’t think so, but still concern gripped him. “Let him in.”
After a few moments, Bacchus returned with a small man who looked to be in his fifties. He was dressed plainly, but he’d clearly taken some pains to look put together—his hair was slicked back, his tie was tied tight.
So this was not an impromptu meeting about Ari’s well-being. No, Zervou assumed this would be about the stadium. Interesting that this man would come to him directly rather than go through Ari. Zervou respected the move. Confident. Bold. With enough time to ensure Ari’s relationship with him was not superficial.
Zervou held out his hand for the man to shake, and the return grip was strong. He looked like perhaps he’d boxed himself as a younger man.
“It is good to meet you, Mr. Kritikos. Thank you for meeting with me without an appointment.”
“Of course, Mr. Demo. Come in. Have a seat, if you would.”
The man nodded and moved into the large seat opposite Zervou’s desk. He didn’t look around in a blatant stare, but Zervou caught the considering gaze of the gold sconces, the antique tapestries. He was definitely taking stock of the wealth.
Zervou couldn’t be offended by it. That was the point of a place like this, was it not?
“It is the talk of the sporting world here in Corfu that your upcoming stadium will be quite the entertainment hub for sport.”
“That is the plan.”
“Boxing is popular. It could be more popular, with the right business acumen behind it. I’ve never been successful in that department. I understand boxing. I do not understand selling boxing to the public.”
It was a smart man who knew his own weaknesses. “And I land on quite the opposite end of the spectrum. Though I try to understand any sporting event my stadium will hold, selling entertainment is my job.”
“And you are the best at it in Europe it seems. Which is why I’ve come to you. Boxing should be a consideration for your stadium, Mr. Kritikos. And I have enough boxers, enough pull with other gyms around Greece, I could certainly outfit you with fights.”
Zervou made a considering noise. He liked this man’s direct nature. There were not nerves in this man. Maybe some awe, but not nerves.
“I’m sure you could, Mr. Demo, but my concern is…would enough people buy tickets toseethese fights?”
“With the right boxer, I think they would.”
“And you know the right boxer?”
Mr. Demo smiled. “We both do. It is part of why I was emboldened enough to come to you. Ari is our most talented boxer. And, as you no doubt can tell, our most…marketable. She is quite beautiful.”
Zervou’s hand tensed into a fist.Beautifulought to be the last thing this man should be noticing about her. “I beg your pardon.”
Mr. Demo held up his hands. “No disrespect. No personal interest in that way. I say so only from a business perspective. She looks good on a poster. People are intrigued to watch a beautiful woman participate in such a brutal sport. It has always been the case for her, but without backing, without international fights, I have not been able to maximize the opportunity. Her connection with you? I think could.”
Zervou couldn’t say he was placated, exactly. He should be. The man was speaking from a business standpoint. Zervou still did not care for it. And yet, he understood. Shewouldbe a draw. He’d done enough research on her before to know that she had been of interest to the greater public, but there was always something that held her back from the larger fights. The bigger stage.
It occurred to him now that Mr. Demo had mentioned international fights that likely her mother had been that obstacle. And perhaps funding. The boxing gym had certainly helped her, but it clearly didn’t do enough business to really make her a star in their world.
So, her boss had come here to ask for his financial backing.
Zervou could respect it. A man did not build himself into a billionaire without being brave enough to ask for things he had no right to ask for.
“You would like to have a fight, starring Ari, at my stadium when it is done. That is what you’re asking.”
The man beamed at him. “Exactly. As a start. And I know a way to make such a fight draw even more ticket sales. Before your stadium’s projected opening date, there is a fight in Minsk. The past few years, I’ve wanted to get Ari in, but we’ve never had the funds, and she’s always been opposed to travel. But here she has been traveling with you, and you have the funds.”
“Indeed, I do.” Zervou leaned back in his chair. A fight in Minsk. A fight in his stadium once it was done. With his money and connections, and what he was learning about the sport area of entertainment, he could no doubt turn Ari into a star.
Was that what she wanted? He knew she wanted to succeed, but he didn’t know if she wanted to be recognizable. If she wanted to be the face of something. It was a good face, though.
