“What’s going on here?” asked the cop, while a second set up a flare.
“This woman’s truck wouldn’t start and I stopped to help.” Zander gave the officer his driver’s license.
She eyed his ID, handed it back. “The vehicle is running now. Can you continue your conversation elsewhere?”
He and Savannah exited his car. She unclamped the cables, threw them into her pickup, and thrust a twenty at him.
“Keep that.” Zander flipped open his wallet and pulled out a slew of twenties. “Get yourself a new battery for your truckandyour phone.”
Her lips curved while her gaze floated over his face. “I can’t take your money.” Hopping into her vehicle, she eyed him through the rolled down passenger window. “Thanks for the jump, Slick.”
As Savannah drove away, Zander secured the battery cover and closed his hood. Soaked with perspiration, he slid behind the wheel and headed for his office.
Despite spying his cell phone on the passenger seat, he left it there. There was something about her loss that left him feeling blue. He envied her that she had family she cared about.
Zander’s parents had split when he was five. He had murky memories of his mom. She used to run a long phone cord outside so she could smoke while she talked. Every time he’d join her, she’d whisper that she wasn’t alone. Clearly, she didn’t want him around. The day he learned his mother wasn’t coming home was the last time he’d displayed any real emotion.
His father had found him sobbing on his bed. “You’ll get over it, kid. Starting tomorrow, no tears. I don’t need a crybaby for a son.” When his father left the room, a loneliness settled in that never left him.
His dad had gone full throttle into the dating scene. Though he’d made sure Zander got a hot meal most nights, Zander got the impression his dad didn’t like him much, either. They never did fun things together like his friends did with their dads. Beyond the basics, there was nothing.
By age thirteen, Zander was spending little time at home. In addition to his after-school activities, his neighborhood dog-walking business kept him plenty busy. He learned that good grades might earn him college scholarships and spending extra time with the animals got him those valuable referrals. More than either of those, he received the attention and accolades from teachers, coaches and neighbors that he never got from his father. Plus, his dad had remarried twice by that time. Wife number three came with a kid in tow. For reasons Zander never understood, his father paid attention to his ten-year-old stepsister.
After college, Zander had shared his entrepreneurial interests with his dad who, in response, discounted those ideas and urged him to work for a “solid and established” company. But Zander had wanted to build his own, so, as he’d done before, he figured it out without parental help. When Zander stopped talking about his career, the old man never asked. Their primary topic of conversation became whatever latest lady-drama plagued his father.
Zander’s ringing phone snapped him back to the present, but he silenced his device and parked. Shoving aside the unpleasant memories, he headed into the building that bore his name—King Development. He entered the office suite and acknowledged his staff before powering down the hall.
When he came to a halt at the doorway to Kent Walker’s office, his Senior Vice President glanced up from his laptop. “What happened?” Smiling, he shook his head. “Never mind. I can use my imagination.”
“A woman’s car broke down and I gave her a jump.”
“Heror her car?”
Where Zander was driven and to the point, Kent was mellow and verbose. Friends since childhood, they’d reconnected after college. Thirteen years later, they’d turned an idea into a lucrative business, growing their two-person start-up into the region’s most sought-after land development company. Despite their differences, the men remained close friends and compatible business partners.
“Give me ten to catch up,” Zander said.
“I’ll be gone by then. I’ve got to take the baby to the pediatrician for his shots. Come on in and shut the door.”
This is bad.Zander closed the door and dropped into the chair across from his desk.
Kent’s lighthearted expression fell away. “I hate to ask, but I need you to step in with Esteem. I can’t get anyone to return my calls about their overdue payment. Can you contact the president and get us some answers?”
“Consider it done.” Zander pushed up from the chair. “Is that it?”
“No. The Starry Cove project hit a major roadblock. Might be time to walk from this one.”
Zander eased back down.
“I got a call from Jeremy Miller regarding the hundred-acre parcel. He and Marcia have been in support of our development proposal, but they have a personal matter and they’re moving to Florida. So, they sold their fifty percent interest in the property to the other owner.”
“Ah, crap. Why didn’t they sell to us?”
“The terms of ownership required they give that person the first right of refusal.”
“So, what…now we have to deal with that anonymous SOB who’s been against the deal from the get-go?”
Pausing, Kent pursed his lips. “He’s not so anonymous anymore.”
