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"That I do. Gotta run if I'm not going to be late. Literally."
"Oh, perfect! You'll look all hot and flushed, sexy-like, so he'll know what you would like after you've—"
"Goodbye, Jade!" Laughing, I hung up on her before she could finish her thought.
I scooped my purse back up and traveled back the direction I'd come from earlier. I paused in front of an Art Deco-styled building. I double-checked the address against my phone. It was modestly tall for our town and looked recently renovated as part of the urban renewal program our city council had started a couple of years ago. I glanced toward the top floor. Somewhere up there was where my next appointment would take place with J. Carter, a self-made, highly successful entrepreneur, who dealt mostly in real estate but dabbled in other investments.
Walking through the elegant lobby, I ran through my mental dossier on what I knew about the man who went by his first initial only, at least in business. It wasn't much, only what Jade had briefed me on when she'd suggested his name. I knew he'd gotten his start when he designed some gadget that looked a bit like a water gun but hooked up to cans of caulking or sealant that made it easier to get into tight spaces with less waste. He was smart enough to patent it, and it wasn't long before an adhesive company acquired his design for a cool five million dollars.
In turn, he bought a house, remodeled and sold it, netting another tidy profit. Renovating homes seemed to evolve into a career for him. And as he did so, he developed, patented, and sold a couple of more small gadgets that the construction world suddenly wondered how they ever managed without them. With his newfound money, he smartly d
iversified his assets, invested wisely, and by the age of twenty-eight, he'd gone from a poor boy of a single mom to a multi-millionaire. And, I knew he was a major influence in the renovation of our small city of Passion.
After the elevator delivered me to the top floor, I stepped into a beautifully decorated foyer that housed a receptionist. She directed me to a desk at the opposite end of the room. Instead of the stark, modern lines I expected, it was almost like stepping into someone's living room with a seating area complete with a cushy-looking couch, armchairs, coffee table, and plants. A wall fountain faced me, offering a sort of tranquility with its trickling noise that didn't distract but kept the office from being overly quiet.
Behind an elegant desk made from expensive mahogany sat an attractive older woman who smiled at me as I approached her. "How can I help you?"
"I'm Grace Hart. I have an appointment with Mr. Carter."
She ran her eyes across my face, and her smile brightened. "Ah, yes. I'll let him know you're here. Can I get you anything to drink?"
When I declined, she gestured to make myself comfortable and picked up the phone.
I could hear a harsh voice through the receiver, but his secretary didn't appear particularly bothered. She kept smiling like she knew some secret.
"Ms. Hart? I'm afraid Mr. Carter is running behind, but he'll be with you in a few minutes."
Rather than sit, I was drawn to a series of pictures on a long wall which photo-journaled the evolution of a house from conception to finished product. I don't think I'd ever appreciated how much time and work went into the development of a building, from the architectural drafts to the foundation and skeletal frame, from electrical and plumbing to the landscaping; every detail planned down to the last wire, tile, and plant. Another row of pictures showed before and after pictures of a building. After a second glance, I realized it was the one in which I now stood.
Wow! This guy is good. He’d managed to make the building feel modern and fresh while keeping the overall essence of its history.
When the summons happened, I followed the secretary's directions down a short hall. There was a large, empty conference room with glass windows on my left, and on my right was the only other door which was partially closed. I paused in the doorway, at first thinking no one was inside until I heard a masculine voice exclaim, "Tell them I expect both of their people on the scene, or I'll start deducting from their bill."
My heart stuttered and then sped up as if to make up for the lost beats. That voice! The one that still haunted my nights. Surely, it couldn't be...
I knocked on the door and pushed it open. The chair behind the desk swung around toward the door where I stood frozen. Eyes that I'd never be able to forget widened in surprise as they recognized me in turn.
"Spare me the details. Just fix it." He hung up the phone abruptly.
The quiet between us felt suspended in the air like the interval after a flash of lightning, never knowing when the rumble of thunder would resonate. But it would. However, I couldn't have predicted how much the boom would rattle me.
"You."
5
Jax
"What the fuck happened, John? I sent you there to seal the deal with a contract."
My morning had been a series of fixing up other people's screw-ups, and my mood was about as sweet as a boar in a briar patch.
John Blackburn, my lead real estate attorney, leaned back in his seat and templed his fingers, tapping them against each other and frowning as he contemplated how to answer. "It was a clusterfuck. He's asked for more time before presenting it to Council."
I collapsed in the chair behind my desk. "I don't need to tell you how bad this could be. Who is it?"
"I don't know. Phelps wouldn't say anything other than they were considering another offer and weren't going to rush to any decisions."
"Fuck." I slammed my fist on my desk. I wasn't usually so pissy about a setback, but this was huge. I thought I had a lock on purchasing a building I wanted. Correction, a building I needed. Granted, it was only on a gentleman's agreement, but it had sat empty for years. I thought there was little risk involved in obtaining it.
