He’d lost sensation in his face by the time he rang the bell to the townhouse containing the offices of RLH Realty. He identified himself when a voice came through the intercom asking who he was. Using his shoulder, he pushed open the door, stepping into a lobby with welcoming heat. A young woman with neatly braided hair sat behind a Plexiglas partition.
“Mr. Wainwright, you can take the elevator to the third floor. Someone will direct you from there.”
He stepped into the elevator, pushing the button for the third floor. The short ride was enough for him to regain some feeling in his face. He had come with a blank check. He hadn’t just come to talk.
The doors opened and a fastidiously dressed middle-aged woman smiled at him. “Mr. Wainwright. I’m Ms. Jackson. Please follow me.”
Jordan followed her down a carpeted hallway, noticing the richness of the tasteful furnishings in the town house. This was the first time he’d come to the offices of his grandfather’s rival. The rivalry between the two men had gone on way before he was born and continued to this day.
But Jordan was willing to rise above the pettiness to conduct business. For him it was only business, never personal. There had been only one exception: when he’d offered to represent Aziza in her harassment suit. Kyle was right. He should’ve trusted him enough to come to him and have him file the suit. Kyle Chatham was one of the best trial attorneys in the city, and if anyone could break Kenneth Moore, Chat would.
Ms. Jackson stepped aside and Jordan walked into the conference room. He hadn’t taken more than three steps when he stopped. Sitting at the table with Raymond Humphries, Robert Andrews and the four executors of the estate was his fiancée.
Aziza felt a pain in her chest as if she were having a heart attack. How could Jordan be the lawyer for the holding company when she hadn’t spoken to him? Rising slowly, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but I must recuse myself.”
Raymond also stood up. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Aziza rounded on Raymond Humphries. “I have to remove myself from this participation to avoid a conflict of interest. Opposing counsel happens to be my fiancé.”
“I don’t care if he’s your daddy. I’ve paid you to handle this and you will.”
Jordan had heard and seen enough. “Will everyone please leave so Mr. Humphries, Miss Fleming and I can come to some agreement?”
Robert Andrews nodded to the siblings who’d come from Florida to hopefully settle an issue that was a long time coming. “We all can wait in the lounge.”
Waiting until the door closed behind Raymond’s son-in-law, Jordan stalked to the older man, backing him into a corner. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You had to know my grandfather wanted those parcels, but why bring my fiancée into your sick twisted game?”
“I didn’t know she was your fiancée. Now, I want you to back the hell up outta my face before—”
“Before what, Raymond? You’ll have me arrested? I don’t think so, because then everyone will know your business. I suggest you let it go.”
Raymond pulled back his shoulders. “I’m not going to let it go as long as Wyatt continues to buy property in Harlem.”
A flush darkened Jordan’s face under his deep tan. “You don’t own Harlem, despite what you think! It was here before you and it’ll be here after you’re dead and buried. Give it a rest!” He’d enunciated each word. “We can do this nice, or it can get very nasty.”
“You would love nasty, wouldn’t you? You’re just like Wyatt!”
Jordan took several backward steps, allowing Raymond to move out of the corner. “That’s where you’re wrong. If I was Wyatt I would’ve blown your brains out.” He ignored Aziza’s gasp. “What happened between your daughter and my father is history—ancient history. You and Wyatt took care of that, so I’m warning you for the last time to let it go.”
Raymond, trying to regain a modicum of bravado, crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”
Resting his hands at his waist, Jordan pushed back his topcoat and suit jacket. “Instead of bidding on all four parcels, I’m willing to take two and give you the other two.”
“You give me? I don’t think so, Wainwright. You have nothing to give.”
“I have Wyatt Wainwright’s approval to offer the family waiting for us to resume this meeting and an obscene amount of money to keep you from getting the parcels. But because I’m not Wyatt, I’m willing to split them with you. Two for you and two for me.”
Raymond bared his teeth. “You bastard!”
A deep frown settled between Jordan’s eyes. “Do me a favor. Watch your mouth.” He shifted his attention to Aziza, his expression softening. “I’d like you to stay, but because you’ve already recused yourself, you will just be an observer. My maternal grandfather is going to have those good people come back in and we’re going to negotiate the sale of the four parcels at 118th and St. Nicholas Avenue. There will be two for RLH and two for Wainwright Developers Group. And the nonsense that has been going on for more than thirty years will end today. Does that meet with your approval, Mr. Humphries?”
“And if it doesn’t?” Raymond refused to believe he’d been bested, that his scheme had backfired.
A beat passed. “Maybe it’s time I introduce myself to my half sisters.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would,” Jordan threatened. “What’s it going to be? Half, or I’ll put your business in the street. Remember, I have nothing to lose.”
Raymond’s shoulders slumped, indicating defeat. “Okay. Half it is.”
Two hours later Jordan and Aziza walked out of the building housing RLH Realty. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in that.”
Aziza shook her head. “I still don’t understand why Raymond hates your grandfather. It can’t be about who can gobble up more property like a Monopoly game.”
“Raymond is still angry that my father got his daughter pregnant.”
“But Wyatt saved his daughter’s reputation when they arranged the private adoption.”
“That’s true. But Raymond never forgave my father for seducing his virginal daughter when he was engaged to another woman.”
Aziza reached for Jordan’s hand. “Not only were you able to secure the properties, but you also declared a truce and formed a partnership between RLH and Wainwright Developers Group.”
“That wasn’t my initial intent but I supposed it all worked out in the end.”
“What do you think your grandfather will say?”
Jordan gave Aziza a quick glance. “Which one?”
She laughed. “You know which one I’m talking about.”
“I think Wyatt will forgive me when I had to make a deal with his enemy to get those buildings.”
“What do think about inviting Raymond to our wedding?”
“I don’t know, but it is something to think about.” He stopped, lowered his head and kissed her. “Did I tell you that I love you today?”
“Yo gangsta! Why you disrespectin’ that woman like that? Get a room,” a deep voice boomed.
Jordan turned and raised his fist in a salute. He loved Harlem, its people and the woman who’d promised to share her future with him.
BECAUSE OF YOU
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7452-9
Copyright © 2010 by Rochelle Alers
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Because of You Page 25
