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I didn’t like the sound of that.
I spun around in the office chair and Lana jumped back, narrowly avoiding contact with my legs as they swung around. “Mr. O’Keefe—”
I groaned and leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. She stopped short, the rest of her explanation dissolving into a nervous stammer.
All of Talia’s words came rushing back to me, practically shouting in my head, and I ran a hand over my face, willing it all to stop. “Cancel it, Lana. I’m not interested in his pitch.”
“But, Aaron, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime! If someone like him is interested in a meeting with you…”
“I’m not interested,” I grit out, my teeth bared.
Lana’s eyes went wide, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll cancel it.”
She started for the door when a new layer of reality settled over me. “Wait.”
She skidded to a stop at the door.
“I’ll go.”
To her credit, Lana didn’t ask for a reason behind my abrupt change of heart. She gave a firm nod and left the room.
“Fuck!” I picked up a pen, just to slam it down onto the desk. The noise wasn’t as satisfying as I wanted it to be, so I slammed it again.
The problem with O’Keefe was that he wasn’t going to go away. Not until I stood my ground and made him back the fuck off.
So, that’s what I’d do.
I’d never backed away from a battle before, and this was going to be no different. Aaron Rosen wasn’t a fuckin’ pussy, and stuffed shirts like Henry O’Keefe didn’t intimidate me.
And I was about to prove it.
The afternoon of the meeting arrived, and as Talia had predicted, I found myself in a board room with half a dozen players in the big leagues. They were all dressed in pricey Italian suits and probably all had a set of keys to some dumbass luxury car in their pocket.
It didn’t matter to me.
I wasn’t going to sell the museum. There was no dollar amount that O’Keefe or any of his cronies could put on it to make me change my mind. That place was a huge piece of my heart and soul, and there was no way they were going to take it away from me.
I’d dressed down, wearing my same old pair of torn jeans, my signature black t-shirt, and my worn black leather jacket. I was shielded by an unbreakable wall of confidence and was capable of matching every one of those big shots in the room without the disguise of fancy-ass clothes.
“We’re all so glad you could make it,” Henry said after introducing his pack of cronies. He had his polished persona turned on, and in the back of my mind, I wondered how long it would take before his parking lot brawler side came out for some fun.
I nodded to everyone and took a seat. I was willing to play the game.
For now.
Henry took the place at the head of the table, and as soon as he got into position, the lights in the room dimmed thanks to an assistant positioned by the door, and then a screen of data appeared on the wall behind him, projected from a computer in the center of the table.
“We’ll respect your time, Mr. Rosen,” he said, giving me his false smile. He clasped his hands together. “It’s not a big secret that my offshoot business, Vantage Real Estate, has plans to move into Holiday Cove and establish a luxury high rise community. As of right now, there are no firm dates for when construction is set to begin, but it will be before the year is out. So, right now, we’re working to partner with the established businesses in the community to get them on board and leverage that support to get the rest of the town to rally in support of this project.”
He paused, waiting for me to say something like I was too stupid to keep up.
“So, what are we talking? You want the museum to hand out coupon vouchers for all your fancy new clients?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
If Henry was upset, he didn’t show it. He laughed at my joke and the rest of the table joined in. “Not exactly. What I—we—had in mind is a little grander than all that.” He gestured to the screen behind him. “This is a sample of data we’ve collected, a projection, for the museum profits once the high rise is fully occupied. You see, many people who buy the condos will be investors who rent the spaces out, most of which will be seasonal, vacation rentals. Which obviously would raise the amount of foot traffic you’d have through the doors.”
“Great. Appreciate the heads up. I’ll make sure to look out for the crowd,” I said, my patience wearing thin as I waited for him to get to the point.
