AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ah, so this is how it’s going to go.“Don’t press your luck, Sanderson. If you turn this into a negotiation, my next offer will be ten million.” I want this property, but I’m not going to let this guy walk all over me. “Do we have a deal?”
George stares thoughtfully. “Let me get this straight—you’re offering me twelve million US dollars for a building I bought for six?”
“That’s correct. Do we have an understanding?”
He chuckles. “You’re insane.”
I shrug. “The things we do for love, right?” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Shall I call my bank in London and tell them to initiate the transfer? I’ll have it expedited. You’ll have the money in your account within twenty-four hours. That’s when I’ll come to collect the deed. Have your solicitor write up the paperwork.”
“Mywhat?”
I laugh. “Sorry, your attorney.”
Sanderson leans back in his black leather chair. “Fine. Far be it for me to stop you from doing something foolish. It’s an old, outdated apartment building. It’s hardly worth what you’re offering to pay.”
“That’s my business, not yours.” I rise from my chair and offer Sanderson my hand. We shake on it.
I proceed to do just as I said I would. I call Milton Evans, my personal banker in London, and instruct him to wire the money to Sanderson’s bank account promptly. “I’ll be back tomorrow at this same time to pick up the deed. Have it made out to Kennedy Takahashi.” I grab a yellow Post-It note off Sanderson’s desk and write down her name and details.
“Good doing business with you, sir,” I say, and then I walk out of his office.
“What an idiot,” Sanderson mutters, laughing to himself.
I smile as I exit his building.
* * *
At ten minutes after five, Kennedy steps out of the lift. When she spots me sitting by the fountain in the center of the spacious lobby, she waves and heads my way.
I shoot to my feet and greet her. “All done for the day?”
She nods. “Yes. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“Your timing is perfect.” I offer her my arm. “Shall we?”
She takes my arm, and we walk out of the building onto a crowded pavement filled with pedestrians heading home from work.
“I know you love sushi,” I tell her, “so I asked around to find out what the best restaurant in Manhattan is—Masa’s Sushi Bar. Japanese cuisine at its finest. I thought that was highly appropriate, don’t you?”
She laughs. “Connor, that place costs a fortune.”
“Fortunately for us, I have a fortune. So, we’re all set. We have a reservation for six o’clock.”
She shakes her head. “You’re insane.”
“So I’ve been told.” I chuckle, thinking back to my property transaction earlier in the afternoon. I’m dying to tell her, but I won’t. Not until the deed is in my hand.
“Fine,” she says. “As long as you’re paying. It’s way too rich for my blood.”
“That’s what I’m here for, darling. Shall we walk or hire a taxi?”
“It’s nice out, so let’s walk. It’s not far.”
Dinner at Masa’s is a feast for the senses. I made a call earlier in the day and managed to score us two seats at the coveted Hinoki Counter, where we’ll get a front-row seat to watch the master chef at work as he transforms choice pieces of seafood into delectable works of art.
When we arrive at the restaurant, we’re escorted to the Counter, where we’re seated front and center.
Kennedy leans close and whispers, “I can’t believe you did this. I don’t even want to know what you paid to get these seats.”
