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“What do you need with a massive building like that? It’s probably got a hell of a lot of problems. I think every window is broken, and then there’s the pest control and cleanup, who knows if anything is functioning.” He then had the audacity to ask. “You’re not getting into pot storage, are you? That shit smells bad, and the mafia is all over it in New York.”
“It’s none of your business, just get me the building. You best leave now; I want it secured by this evening. We can do the paperwork tomorrow. I want to be the owner by Friday. You’re dismissed.” I stared him down as his face turned from delighted to disgruntled.
“I’ll let you know what I can do.” He was no longer motivated.
“You’ll get a seven percent private commission off the books.” That brightened him up.
Suddenly all my angst and sexual frustration evaporated. Soon, I’d be holding all the cards. I’d have Kylie exactly where I wanted her.
The next two days were very busy. We finished the deal with Tokyo, and we were closing in on a new project in Dubai that looked to make us millions. Most importantly, after brutal and grueling negotiations, Larry got Mary Kay Ludemeyer to agree to sell me the building for a song. Luckily, the old woman, who was nearing ninety, had a greedy little bastard of a grandson who took our one point two million dollar cash offer without telling his grandma the details. I think the poor old woman still thought her grandfather’s factory was going to help disadvantaged kids. I was now the owner of a derelict Lower East Side building.
The two days before Kylie’s charity auction passed quickly with all the business I was attending. I could hardly contain my arousal just thinking of what would be happening that night. I secured funds from my private account for the auction and held the deed to the building Kylie so desperately wanted in my hand. The event was a massive affair. Musicians, politicians, influencers, and businesspeople all were in attendance. The Every Dream Foundation was set to make a bundle that night, which was also the launch of a new fashion brand, Flower Street. A clothing line that mixed art, fashion, and music, a brainchild of Kylie and her roommate Avery Johnson. Everything Kylie touched was cool, and the event was no exception.
A car brought me alone to the Park Avenue location. I didn’t need nor want anyone interrupting my evening. The night started as most of these affairs did, with a commencement speech and then music, food, and banal conversation. When the lights dimmed, my arousal flared again; it was almost time for my fun to begin. The music pumped hard. An emcee took the stage wearing a tuxedo shirt and a long, flowing, hand-painted graffiti skirt. He was as masculine as they came, but his dress denoted fashion from all over the planet in a gender-bending, dance style that was as off-putting as it was intriguing.
I had to remind myself that these were Kylie’s people, they were a far cry from my own, but then I had to consider, did I even like my own people? Apart from Christian, who probably would fit with this crowd better than I ever would, I had no one I would consider a true friend. I hoped to change that. Kylie was someone I was seriously considering keeping, at least for a little while.
“Okay, everyone. Thank you for being here, what an amazing turnout. So I’m not going to say too much, but I did want to shout out to Avery Johnson, who’ll be out here in a minute to introduce her collection, Kylie Morgan, whose nonprofit Every Dream is why we are here tonight and Maralis Guiettierez from Elite Models for putting all this together. All of the hosts serving your tables this evening are clients of the Every Dream foundation, and you’ve already heard speeches from several of them this evening, so without more blabbering, I welcome to the stage, Avery Johnson.
There was an enthusiastic round of applause, and Avery, who I had already met at the bar and when I went to try and snag Kylie from her home, took the mic.
“Thanks, Johan,” Geez even the guy’s name was off-puttingly sexy. “So, welcome to Flower Street. The looks you’ll see tonight were all inspired by trauma recovery and living every dream. It’s a blend of what’s often too hard to face with what we hope for our future. I hope you enjoy the show. Also, as you all know, all of the models in the fashion show will be part of this evening’s auction. If you see someone you like, please refer to the catalog, and when bidding begins, you may make a discrete bid on your model. The evening will commence right after the auction. There will be dancing and live music by the great Daz Lights Band, dinner, dessert, open bar, comedy show, and the art gallery next door will open for models and their patrons only. I’m sure I don’t have to say it, but no funny business, this is a strictly in-house event, no wandering off, and if anyone needs anything, there are hosts everywhere to attend your needs. Okay, enjoy the show.” With that, Avery stepped away from the mic, and the house lights went out to be replaced by strobe lights and police sirens to a beat.
