AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasn’t my job to judge.
I was here to help.
To make people’s days better.
And this guy needed lots of help.
“Tulips, we’re gonna need bunches of tulips.”
DRAKE
“Greg’s gonna love this,” Reed boasted, flicking through the proposal in front of him, one we’d worked on for months with surveys and projections and meetings with the locals. “That man has really started to lean into the science and technology stuff.”
Sometimes investors were merely rich men looking to make themselves richer.
They were helpful, usually willing to hand over large sums of money and see the benefit in the return they would make at the end.
Sometimes, though, it was also about finding someone who was passionate about what you’re trying to build. When the profit margins are lower, it helps when the investor is happy to see smaller money in return for something they can see bigger potential in than simply the dollar signs. And that was the kind of project I was attempting to pitch today.
The new building would include a small Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics or STEM—as most people called it—space with funding the high school next door had raised, along with a ground floor that would become retail space and small, affordable apartments above. It was a type of plan we hadn’t done before, but in places like Boston, there were so many more opportunities to create these kinds of unique spaces and buildings.
Much more so than in Vegas.
And it was these things that kept me here more often than back home these days.
These things which had me considering buying something and moving out here permanently.
“This meeting room is nice for a rental, but wouldn’t you love to have your own place here, receptionist outside, your office just down the hall?” Reed described with a smile as he placed the paperwork on the table and leaned back in the cushy leather recliner.
Reed Lawson and I had been friends for years.
We were around the same age, and he was one of my first investors when I stepped out of business school, took the club’s reasonably well-known construction business, and decided to make it into something bigger. At the time, Reed was just starting out in business, and so was I—the two of us trying to make a name for ourselves. We were on a mission to prove we could be something more than what people saw or thought they knew about us. And we were going to do it by building empires with pure hard work and determination.
The first project we took on was a gamble.
And a flop.
But we learned hard lessons and didn’t make the same mistakes twice. Less than four years later, we were both on Forbes 30 Under 30 lists.
“You just need to make room for me in your building,” I scoffed, raising my brows. “I know you’ve got the space.” I had been taking Reed to meetings with me while I was in Boston. He lived here, and I’d found a little more confidence in having him back me when talking to business associates or future investors. Maybe that was a club thing, though—the strength that fills you knowing your brothers are standing behind you, ready to have your back in a second if you need them.
Before he could come up with some shitty excuse about why he didn’t want to share his office building with me, the door to the meeting room opened, and three guys walked in, taking seats opposite us at the table.
Though not one of them was Greg Barlowe, who I was expecting.
The man in the center was much younger, maybe in his forties, his hair slicked back with so much product that it looked like it could possibly be snapped off at the root. While the other two who sat on either side of him appeared as if they should haveretired about a hundred and fifty years ago.
“Hi, my name’s Elton,” Mr. Slick Hair announced, holding his hand out across the table. Reluctantly, I leaned forward and shook it. “I’m Greg Barlowe’s son-in-law. I’m starting to help out with some different parts of his business, including major investments. Mr. Barlowe is eager to invest, but I’d like to really narrow down on the different projects he’s looking at. I want to make sure he has a solid portfolio.”
This guy was talking, but all I could hear was complete and utter shit falling from his lips.
“My name’s Drake Shaw, and this is my friend and occasional business partner, Reed Lawson,” I introduced, and Reed raised his hand just slightly, but I could tell he was getting the same vibes from this guy as I was.
“Huh,” Elton said, the little bit of skin between his eyes pinching together as he flipped through the pile of papers in front of him, yanking out one in particular. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure I had all the information right. You introduced yourself as Drake Shaw.”
“That’s my name.”
“Huh,” he said again, this time a little higher pitched than the last and had me clenching my fist at my side. He held the papers up in front of his face and leaned back into his seat. “But here on these forms it has the signature of Hudson Shaw.”
