AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After Cora had broken up with me, I’d fucked the majority of Lower Manhattan and drank the contents of its bars, simply as a way to not think about losing the love of my life. I didn’t think I’d do that again, not by a long shot. But I saw what they were getting at.
I turned the volume on my phone up as I head back to my bedroom. After a hot shower and slouching into sweats and nothing else, I was ready for my personal day. Every ping and beep that signaled a call or email made me sit up and check it out.
Lunch came and went—a chicken and quinoa power bowl Butch knew I loved. Though you’d never guess it from looking at him, he was a gourmet chef who’d kicked around Paris and Amsterdam. Nobody cooked a better filet mignon than this man. After lunch, I planned on returning to my restful hangover state in my bedroom, but motivation kicked in. I headed to our personal gym and spent the rest of the afternoon on weights and listening for any ding from my phone.
The hours spun away, but nothing came from Margulis Realty. I was getting fucking irritated. I'd expected a call by noon. How hard was it to set up a showing for a motivated buyer? They were a realty company, for God’s sake.
Just before the close of business, the call came. I was mid-sit-up, and I dragged my forearm across my face before I answered.
“Hello, I’m calling for Axel Fairchild.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded faint. Maybe scared. Most likely a low-level assistant.
“Speaking.”
“Hi, I’m Tabitha with Margulis Realty. I wanted to set something up with you for the showing of 225 Tenth Avenue.”
“Great. What’s the earliest available?” My abs trembled from the position I held on the ab bench. My six pack would thank me tomorrow.
She tutted. “I have a slot for Friday.”
I paused, swiping the call to speaker phone so I could look at my calendar. Friday was tomorrow. Maybe theyweremotivated to sell. “Tomorrow sounds great.”
“Ah, no. I’m—I’m so sorry.NextFriday.”
My gumption deserted me, and I collapsed back onto the bench with awhuff.“Excuse me?”
“Yes. Next Friday we can set up a viewing.”
“That’s a week away,” I spat.
“Yes, sir.”
“No.” I stared at the calendar in my phone as though it would show the Margulis schedule. “It needs to be sooner.” I didn’t like how much time they were taking. I had a hunch that Allan didn’t want to sell to me, which made it that much more important to close this deal. Anybody else could waltz in there and scoop up this building. I wouldn’t let that happen. This building would bemine.
“Mr. Fairchild, I’m not really sure—”
“Listen, how much money do I need to shove up Allan Margulis’s asshole in order to see this building sooner?” I spat. “Excuse me—shove into hisbank account.My apologies for the mistake. Now please, speak to Allan or Cora or, Heaven forbid,Eliin order to get me a viewing with a bit more enthusiasm.” I paused. “Please.”
The assistant stammered for a moment and then asked me to hold. I smiled to myself through the banal hold music. When she returned a moment later, she sounded unnaturally cheery.
“Would tomorrow work?”
“Wonderfully. Send the date and time to my email, please. Thanks for your help.”
I hung up and tossed my phone onto the foam floor near the ab bench. Accomplishment thrummed through me, but it was lined with something else. A sour taste in the back of my throat.
I knew what that was. I knew that feeling all too well. I lobbed a sigh, moving from the ab bench so I could retrieve my phone. I swiped through screens until I came to my investment apps. Today’s business required some important transactions.
I purchased a swath of shares in a company I’d been watching that worked on providing the best educational start to kids in underserved populations throughout the country. Then I hopped over to my donations app, where I divvied up a hundred thousand dollars between STEM-focused non-profits and transitional housing efforts for orphans and foster kids in the eastern US. I picked a different region of the country to focus on each week.
And then I topped it all off by donating fifty thousand to the World Hunger Foundation.
Wall Street might have its rules, but I lived by a different set.
And my rules dictated that good would prevail. Nastiness and scumbaggery would not. This was the other side of the coin I now held. With immense wealth at my disposal, I had the power to balance the scales if I chose.
And my choice? I’d bring Allan Margulis down for his despicable attitude. If he’d stomped on me and steamrolled his own daughter, then there were untold legions of others who’d suffered a similar fate under the thumb of this limp-dicked turd monger. The side effects of seeing Cora again were worth it, if it meant that I could somehow pull off the bigger idea that had rumbled to life behind the building.
Find a way to burn Margulis Realty to the ground.
