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He gave me a blank stare. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’ve told you a joke every day for the past two years. Of course I’m serious.”
“You won’t be in a joking mood after I tell you the bad news.”
I stood from my desk and slid my hands into my pockets. “Which is exactly why I should tell you the joke now.”
He sighed and shrugged. “Okay whatever. Go.”
“Did you hear about the new restaurant called Karma? There’s no menu—you get what you deserve.” I snickered, smacking the side of my leg. “Get it? Karma? You get what you—”
“I get it. It’s just far from funny.”
“I’ll get you laughing one of these times. Mark my words.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Now, can I tell you the shit news?”
I nodded.
His brow furrowed, and I could tell whatever he was about to say was going to be bad. Whenever Damian’s brows got closer during our meetings, nothing good was coming from him.
“The Brooklyn property fell through.”
I moved toward the edge of my desk, feeling as if I’d been sucker punched. Every inch of mirth evaporated from my body. “What do you mean it fell through? We had that in our grip. It was all but a done deal. Besides, no one even knew about it except us.”
“I know. Don’t know how it happened, but they decided to sell the building to another buyer.”
“Who?”
“They wouldn’t say.”
Dammit. Damian was right—after that news, I was far from in a good mood.
“I’m going to find out, though,” Damian said, resolute and sure.
“Yeah, thanks.”
He grimaced, of course, and stood from his chair. His gray eyes locked with mine as he shrugged again. “Your joke was kind of funny,” he dryly stated, trying to make me feel better.
“You don’t gotta lie, Damian.”
“All right. It wasn’t funny at all.”
I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. “When you find out who bought the property, let me know.” I moved back around to my desk and plopped down. “You coming to the dinner party on Friday night?”
“Am I coming to a dinner party for an asshole I hate to the depths of my core to celebrate him getting a job he doesn’t deserve? I think I’ll pass. I don’t even know why you hired someone as incompetent as that douche to run the west coast division. I could do a better job than he ever could. He’s a joke.”
Was he wrong about my new business partner, Jason? No. He was the only person I truly couldn’t stand in my life. Everything about the spoiled jerk rubbed me the wrong way. But, was I giving Jason the opportunity because his father offered to partner with me on my dream of building luxury low-income properties if I hired his son to be a business partner with me? Yes.
Jason would be taking over Roe Real Estate West Coast in the coming weeks, and my anxiety about it all was through the roof. That Friday night, we were having a celebration dinner for Jason where I’d do some kind of passing of the keys to him. It was a photo opportunity to paint Jason in a good light, probably his parents’ idea, seeing how most of the time, Jason was in the press for being a trust fund idiot.
Over the past two years or so, he’d seemed to tame his party-animal ways, but that didn’t mean I put any trust in him running a part of my business. Still, I respected his dad enough to give it a shot.
Walter Rollsfield was one of the richest men in the world, and he was the first person who ever invested in me at a young age. Since then, he’d been like a father figure to me. His son, on the other hand? A hot damn mess who left a disaster everywhere he went. I had my fears about hiring Jason, but my hope was that over time, he would get bored with the job—just like he got bored with everything else—and I’d be able to hire a real leader for the position. Plus, I’d have both Walter’s and my wallet to build my dream properties.
It was a risk to take Jason on, but the bigger risk was losing Walter’s backing for my next business endeavor—which reminded me how perturbed I was that I’d lost the property that afternoon. If only I knew who’d gotten in the way of my Brooklyn dream. The moment I found out, I was going to raise some hell.
* * *
