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“I can’t do that.”
“He’s going to do something you’re not prepared for.” Greer wasn’t saying things I didn’t know.
“Even if we branch into consumer, that’s going to take time, money, things we don’t have. I need an immediate solution.”
“Jordan Sr. isn’t the way, Perry. He’s not.”
“Dad trusted him.”
“To an extent. They were brothers. They had a bond that couldn’t be broken. You’re not your dad.”
“I’m desperate,” I whispered. “Pam has been through our numbers. If we stay on course, I’m looking at laying off fifteen percent of the workforce. To start. I need an injection of cash.”
“Take it from one of your other investments.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. One of the stipulations of Dad’s will. PJS is to remain completely separate from the other holdings. I found paperwork. Emails. Handwritten notes. Ideas he had to help the business. It was going down then. He was brainstorming about how he could fix it. I thought I’d seen all his notes but yesterday morning, I was in my office at the penthouse, I found another one wedged in an old planner of his.”
“What did it say?”
“If all else fails, go to Jordan.”
He cut his eyes to me, momentarily taking them off the road. “I can’t believe he’d write that.”
Shrugging, I looked out my window, noticing we were about to cross into East Dremest. “It was his handwriting. I have to fight for the company, Greer. I know this is a dangerous road to travel, but I need to try. To lay off part of the staff…” A lump formed in my throat at the thought. I might walk around with a hair trigger of a temper, but I wanted my employees to know they would get a paycheck. That they could feed their families, keep a roof over their heads.
I still had the flash drive floating around my mind. A bargaining chip I could use but didn’t want to. It was for emergencies and while things with the company were dire, I wasn’t at emergency level yet.
“Pey’s going to chew my ass out for taking you here.”
“Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.”
He snorted. “You haven’t asked for permission for anything in your life.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Don’t look for me to back you up when we’re home and Pey’s on the warpath.”
“Where did he go, anyway? I didn’t know he left.”
“Beats the shit out of me. As long as he knows I’ve got you, he’ll go do whatever.”
Train tracks didn’t separate West and East Dremest. A creek did. Crossing over that little bridge, my stomach sank. There was no going back. My dad had a note saying to go to Jordan, that was what I was doing. Besides, it was a talk. Nothing more. Yet. I could talk to my uncle.
The two sides of Dremest weren’t that different. At least to the average person. Those who lived here, they knew once they went east, they were in Jordan’s territory. He didn’t flood the streets with drugs and guns. Not here. Jordan kept his town clean and sent his illegal shit elsewhere. The residents appreciated it and turned the other way if they saw something they weren’t supposed to. It was how he bought loyalty.
To the general population, sure, Jordan was a mafia boss, but he was also their safety net. If crimes were committed here, he didn’t tolerate it and handled things swiftly. I’d give him that much. He wasn’t all bad.
We wound through the city until we got to a ten-story building, one of many Jordan owned. From the outside, it appeared to be a high-end residential building. Step one foot in the door, armed guards waited. No one got through to see him without a thorough check.
Greer and I were patted down in a short hallway near the elevator bank. Greer locked his gun in the glove compartment in his SUV before we got out. He had a permit to carry, as did Peyton. Coming into this building armed wouldn’t have been a smart move.
The last time I’d seen my uncle was at my dad’s funeral. He was a shell of himself, broken by the loss of a brother he loved dearly. He texted and called me since to make sure I was doing okay. He was sincere, not asking for anything in return. Jordan was still my family, close in proximity, but far away at the same time. My life didn’t match his. We were night and day.
A guard escorted us to the tenth floor, where Jordan lived. The elevator door opened and I was figuratively smacked in the face with opulence. In this sense, Jordan was nothing like my dad. Jordan wanted the world to know he was wealthy and powerful. My dad wanted his work to speak for him. His success.
Black marble flooring met my shoes, while my eyes bounced from painting to painting. It had been a long time since I’d been in this space. Jordan was standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, looking out over his domain.
His smile for me was warm. The one he gave Greer was not.
