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My number one fantasy was someday running my own firm like this, with a huge corner office in some massive downtown skyscraper, a competent and loyal staff working with me while I made million-dollar real estate deals with some of the biggest clients in Denver.
When I turned the corner and spotted the Davidson crew patiently awaiting me in the lobby, however, I brought myself back to the moment. The team of four well-dressed men and women exuded the picture of professionalism, their faces serious and their demeanors making it clear they weren’t there to have their time wasted.
Sheryl Simmons, the head of the Davidson group, focused her dark eyes on me as I approached. My heart skipped a beat and a tinge of panic rushed through me, but I pushed it all aside as I made my way toward them, my hand outstretched.
“Mrs. Simmons,” I said. “Pleasure to see you again.”
She took my hand and shook it in her usual confident, businesslike manner.
“Likewise, Miss Clarence. If we could get right down to business, it’d be most appreciated – we’re already running a bit behind schedule.”
“Certainly. And thank you for your patience. Right this way.”
I gestured toward the hall that led to our conference room and they followed me. As we walked, I spotted Marta Rodriguez, one of the two owners of Lighthouse. She stood in her sharp power suit next to the entrance of her corner office, sipping her coffee with her eyes on me, a small smile on her face.
“So,” I began, Sheryl at my side and the rest of the group behind us. “I had a chance to speak with the current owner of the lot where you’re looking to build.”
“Is that right?” she asked. “We’ve been moving heaven and earth to get him on the phone with us.”
I did my best to hide a pleased grin.
The Davidson project involved buying up a barely used, single-story parking lot downtown, valuable real estate that the current owner, a man who made a decent living running the lot, didn’t want to give up. This single man stood in the way of Davidson Construction and their plans to buy the lot and build a twenty-story condo in its place. So far, they hadn’t been successful.
I, on the other hand, had been. It’d taken a little finagling, but within the last week, I’d managed to organize a sit-down with the owner.
I opened the door to the conference room and led them inside.
“It wasn’t easy,” I said. “But I convinced him to sit down for a one-on-one.”
“How long did it last?” one of the other Davidson people asked. “Because the longest conversation we’d had with him before he either slammed the door in our face or hung up the phone has been about thirty seconds.”
“Five minutes,” I said with a small, sly smile as I shut the door. “And he was most amenable to what we were offering.”
Sheryl’s immaculately sculpted eyebrows arched slightly as she slid into her seat. She was impressed.
“And how did that go?”
“Well, I started with a little flattery, told him that I could most certainly understand that as a small business owner, it made perfect sense that he’d want to hold onto his livelihood. And I told him how much I admired him for hanging onto the lot for so long.”
Sheryl nodded. “Honey catches more flies.” She flicked her glance over to one of the men with her. “See? I told you a little flattery would go further than banging on his door and trying to wave a check in front of his face.”
The man glanced down, chastened. Sheryl turned her attention back to me.
“And what did he say?”
“He said…” I paused, another wave of nausea rushing through me, this one worse than the others. “He said…”
Sheryl leaned forward. “Are you alright?”
I swallowed hard. The nausea wasn’t gone, but I didn’t have any option other than to power through it.
“Just fine, thank you – a little heartburn from breakfast.”
She nodded, eager for me to go on. “Anyway, I told him about how much you were willing to offer, how he’d be able to take that money and start a new…” The nausea became stronger. Part of me felt like I might toss my cookies right there on the conference table.
“And what did he say?” Sheryl asked again, a tinge of impatience in her voice. “Sadie, everything’s riding on being able to purchase this lot. Did he give any indication that he was interested in selling?”
I couldn’t help it. I leaned forward and placed my hands on the end of the table. By this point, the nausea was so intense that I could hardly think straight. It was taking all I had to keep the contents of my stomach,inmy stomach.
