by Terra Wolf
Benjamin had always seen right through me. I guess it was a big brother thing.
“Well, there is this girl, Summer…” I trailed off.
“Oh, so there’s a girl.”
“Yeah, there is, and she of course has me all screwed up.”
“I’m starting to understand. You can’t raise the prices because you’re afraid of losing the girl. She must be pretty special if you are this distraught! Did a woman finally tame the beast?” He asked, jokingly. “Seriously, though. Do you think she might be your mate? Doesn’t seem like something you’d do for just anyone.”
“Honestly, I think she might be.” I admitted. “So I have to do everything in my power to make this project work. For Summer, but also for our company’s image and for the sake of the Charleston community. I think this could really be the start of a new kind of realty mentality that would set us even further apart from our competition.”
“You’ve said enough, Abe. I think you already have your mind set on the end game. Now it’s just a matter of getting there. Don’t settle for Daniel’s short-sightedness. Go into work today and make it happen. Call me if you need back-up. They can’t turn down two Johnson brothers, can they?”
“Thanks, man. I’m pulling up to the building now. I’ll let you know how things go. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up the phone and got out of the car. It would be a long elevator ride to the top of the building, but once I got up there I knew exactly what I had to do.
“Holy shit, Abraham. You’re finally here,” Daniel said.
“If you call me by my first name one more time, you’re fired,” I said. “Now, why the hell can you not figure this out with the financial team?”
“We won’t turn a profit off those condos if we sell them to the tenants only for the work we’ll put into them. For some, we might even lose money.”
“Alright. We still have 60 percent of the fucking building to sell for as much profit as we want. What’s the big deal?” I asked.
“The big deal is the investors aren’t going to invest if they’re only going to turn a profit for 60 percent of the building. They might as well only give you 60 percent of their original investment offer!”
“That’s what they said to strong arm you, Delilah!”
“Oh, we’ve gone into girl’s names now?” he asked.
“You’re acting like one. You’ve been my project manager for five years, and you mean to tell me you can’t handle a boardroom full of fat, rich, whiny men?”
“You won’t turn a profit,” Daniel said. “Do you not understand that?”
“Not everything is about profit, Dragonlord!” I exclaimed. “Sometimes it’s just about doing what’s fucking right!”
The entire accounting floor was stunned silent at my outburst. And, honestly? I was, too. While my family was very supportive of the shifter community, they were very money-driven and passed down that same mindset. If it didn’t make money, then it wasn’t worth our time. The issue was, the property would still turn a profit on 60 percent of the building. It’s just that we could also do something wonderful for the community in the process.
“Charleston is dying,” I said. “It’s dying and it’s taking all the lower income households with it. The families who raise three kids in a one-bedroom apartment just so the father can chase after his dreams. The four roommates residing in a studio apartment just so they can work off their student loans before going to some university around here and digging themselves into more fucking debt. We come in with our wrecking balls and scream at them to move before we bulldoze their lives. We erect taller, nicer buildings that are more out of their price range than ever, then we expect them to just find another place to stay. Where the hell’s the fairness in that?”
I drew in a deep breath before I looked around the room. Eyes were wide and some were filled with admiration, but mostly they were simply full of confusion. Someone in the corner was furiously pressing buttons, so I pointed over into that corner and told them to speak.
“You. There. What’re you crunching?” I asked.
“Numbers, sir.”
“Obviously. What numbers?”
“Numbers for your project, sir. I think what you’re trying to do is wonderful, so I wanna see how much money you’ll lose and if the figures are accurate.”
“When will you have those figures?” I asked.
“Give me thirty more seconds.”
I watched as a man with a child’s overgrown face quickly rattled his fingertips over the calculator’s keys. Numbers were flying up on screen while his eyes darted around a desk, and the entire time I could hear the blood rushing through my head. This was my chance to save Summer’s home. This was my chance to expand this company’s public presence.
This was my chance to make a name for my kind. To bring unity to our city. And maybe sweep Summer off her feet in the process.
“According to these numbers, if you don’t sell the 40 percent of the condos at retail price and only sell them at the mid-range remodeling price of the originally agreed upon forty thousand dollars, you’ll lose four thousand on each condo, which will amount to one hundred thousand dollars of lost profit. But, with the numbers currently running through my head-”
“Don’t do it in your head. Type it out and give it to me,” I said.
“With the numbers I’m currently typing out,” he said as he began to type, “if you redo the rest of the condos and sell the ones with better views for ten thousand more than you were originally intending, you would recoup double that money, so you’d actually be one hundred thousand dollars in the clear if you sold everything for an even profit.”
“But obviously, we aren’t gonna do that because we aren’t completely stupid,” I said.
“The board’s never gonna go for it,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “You know how they are.”
“Then I’ll fucking pay the one hundred thousand out of my own pocket.”
“What?”
“Yeah. That’ll be my investment into my own company. One hundred thousand dollars, I’ll take a bit more personal stock in the company for my investment, and that’ll make the board members happy.”
“Mr. Johnson-”
“DeAngelo, what the fuck is the problem? Bradley over here-”
“It’s actually Jeremy, sir.”
“Jeremy over here gives me proof that we’ll actually be more than fine, you tell me it’s shit, so I offer to pay the fucking difference and you still tell me it’s shit. So, you’ve got one shot. Give me the best reason you’ve got for shitting on both of those ideas. If your reasoning isn’t good enough, you’re fired.”
I stood there and watched him sweat while he flipped through his papers. His brow was beginning to shine, and I watched him while he shuffled from foot to foot. I was done with him. I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but it didn’t smell good to me.
Not anymore.
My bear roared, and I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“You’re fired, Daniel,” I said. “Jeremy, you want a job?”
“I already have a job, sir.”
“It comes with a raise. And benefits. And a 401(k). I’m sure you’ve got student loans. You got student loans?” I asked.
“Yes, sir. Tons of them.”
“Paid off if you wanna be my project manager,” I said.
“Take the damn job, Jeremy,” someone said.
“It’d be an honor to take the job, sir.”
“Wait, you can’t just-”
“Daniel,” I said as I turned to him. “Someone will contact you over the next week to introduce to you your severance package. It will be fair and I’ll negotiate an entire year’s worth of salary. I’ll help you cash out your 401(k) and move any other policies you have. We’ll make this a smooth transition. But, something doesn’t smell right with you anymore. For some reason, I feel like you’re intentionally trying to strong arm me into doing something I don’t want to do, and as the owner of
this branch of my family’s company you need to understand that you don’t run the show. Go home. Someone will contact you before the weekend.”
“But, Mr. John-”
“Get the hell out of my building, Daniel,” I said.
All I wanted to do was lay in bed with Summer all day. All I wanted to do was give into my bear’s greatest desire and consume her body for hours upon hours. I just wanted one day to myself-- to have everything I could have ever wanted.
And I had it, right there in my arms. Leaning ass naked next to me in the middle of my living room floor.
Then this fucking project had to go ruin it.
“Jeremy,” I said.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m gonna go work on your promotion paperwork. In the meantime, on the top floor there’s a boardroom full of fat men who are waiting for me to make an appearance. You’re good with these numbers. Take these options to them and see which one they like. Then, if they don’t like the options, tell them I’ll be paying the difference out of my pocket. Don’t give them an option, just tell them it’s happening. They don’t run this show anymore than Daniel did,” I said.
“On it.”
“Call me and let me know how it goes. I’ve got somewhere else I have to be.”
“But, I don’t have your number,” he said.
“Toss me your phone.” I entered my office number and my cell number into his phone before I placed a call to H.R. I told them what happened and all the paperwork that needed to be processed, then I promised them a long weekend if they could get it all processed before the end of the week. By the time I turned back around, Jeremy was gone and people had resumed their normal working activities.
Good. Now I could focus on the next task at hand.
Getting Summer back.
17
SUMMER
I got off work and went straight for my neighbor. He was the only other person I knew in the building that had plans to buy back his home, and I had to tell him what was happening. Mr. Alfano had no family, no friends, and nowhere to turn to. He deserved a heads-up if something like this was going down. I couldn’t keep this from him knowing he needed more time than any of us to find arrangements.
“Summer! How nice of you to come by. You look upset.”
“Mr. Alfano, I’ve got some news for you,” I said.
“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?” he asked.
I stepped into his home and took a look around. Some of his furniture was wrapped with this saran-like plastic. His apartment was void of many things someone would use to decorate: there weren’t many pictures, no gifts from family that decorated any useless tables. His apartment smelled of disinfectant and pills. I felt his hand come up between my shoulder blades, edging me towards his kitchen chair.
“Mr. Alfano, I can make us something to drink.”
“You’re my guest, Summer,” he said. “Sit down and let me make you something.”
“Mr. A, I’m here all the time. I’m hardly a guest.”
“When you’re as distraught as you are, you will be treated with the respect a guest should have. Now, what seems to be troubling you? Those eyes are too pretty to be as dark and stormy as they are.”
“You remember those original numbers for all the updating they were going to do to this place?” I asked.
“Ah, yes. The renovations. Did you know that Mr. Johnson was kind enough to offer handicap assistance as one of my renovations? That man really is astounding, I tell you.”
“You might take that back once you hear what I hear what I have to share with you,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“The new numbers are going to be higher. Probably double what we were originally quoted,” I said.
“Double, huh? What makes you think that?”
“A conversation I overheard Mr. Johnson having with someone.”
“And where were you with Mr. Johnson?” Mr. Alfano sat down a hot cup of tea he’d made along with some sweet cream. I stared at the steam wafting up from the glass and I felt tears rimming the bags underneath my eyes. I missed him. Even with everything that was going on and the heartless way he’d dismissed me the last time I saw him, I missed him.
My heart ached for him, and it wasn’t until Mr. Alfano sat down beside me with his tea that I was ripped from my trance.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning and fill me in, hm?”
“The first time I met Abraham, it was actually at the new club I was singing at.”
“Abraham?”
“Sorry, Mr. Johnson,” I said.
“Ah, so his name is Abraham. Alright. Continue. You met him at the club and I presume you were taken with him?”
“A bit. He simply held himself with a great deal of confidence.”
“And he’s not too easy on the eyes, either.”
“Mr. A!”
“What?! I was young once. Gay men existed well before this generation started their revolutions and such. So, what happened?” he asked.
“Well, he just assumed I’d simply hop into bed with him, so I left to perform. I didn’t run into him again until he was knocking on my door wanting to talk about the renovations to the apartments,” I said.
“Ah, what a twist. Did he ask you out?”
“He did, and I accepted. We’ve gone out on a couple of occasions. Indulged in some… things with one another,” I said, blushing.
“You can keep those private details to yourself. I’ve never been one to allow kissing and telling in my presence.”
“I assume this phone call took place at some point in time while you were with him?”
“Yeah. I went to his office to meet him and we spent some time together. He took me to his home and I got to lay up against his body all night. Mr. Alfano, it felt so good to be beside him. I’ve always taken pride in being able to protect myself and not need anyone, but I didn’t even realize how much I wanted someone like him until I had him right next to me,” I said.
“Sounds like he treats you well, which is exactly what you deserve. When did this phone call take place? Can you remember what was said?”
“It was just after we’d had dinner and indulged in more… things,” I said, giggling.
“Ah, to experience that giggle again. Love looks good on you, Summer.”
“Love? Yikes, no. Not even close. Infatuation, maybe. But not love,” I said.
“Anyway,” Mr. Alfano smirked, “what happened on the phone?”
“He got up to take a phone call and I heard him talking with someone. A David or Diego-- I don’t know, he said a lot of names. But, I heard him throwing around prices. Sixty thousand and offering us the option of having lesser quality products installed in order to chip away at the price.”
“Was he angry?”
“What?” I asked.
“His demeanor on the phone? Was he businesslike? Upset? Happy? What did he sound like?”
“I don’t know, really. He… sort of sounded annoyed. Frustrated. Maybe stressed? It’s a big project he’s taking on,” I said.
“So, it could be he doesn’t approve of the figures he was being given.”
“Does that matter?”
“It does when I ask you why you’re so upset,” he said.
“I’m upset because of these prices! Mr. Alfano, I wanted to come warn you. I won’t be able to afford those prices, and neither will you. We’ll need all the time we can get in order to make other arrangements.”
“Besides the fact that I have faith in Mr. Johnson, I want to address why you’re so upset.”
“The prices, Mr. A. The prices,” I said.
“See, I don’t believe you. I think you’re upset because you were living in this fantastic bubble with this handsome man who simply happened upon your doorstep, and now reality is beginning to set in. I think you’re worried because you do care for him. Maybe not love him, but you do care. You’ve opened yourself up to him and now you’re concerned about som
ething. What is it, child?”
Mr. Alfano reached out for my hand, and the moment he curled his aged fingers around mine I broke down. I began to cry into my cup of tea, cooling it with my tears while he squeezed my hand in reassurance. He was right. I felt like I was being ripped between worlds. I felt like my life was a tease. One night, I was in bed with this phenomenal man without a care in the world and the next I was climbing the steps of a rundown apartment complex with a broken elevator and stepping through the doors of a home I probably wouldn’t be able to afford in the coming months.
“What am I going to do?” I asked, sobbing.
“How do you feel about him, Summer?”
“I like him. So much. He’s absolutely wonderful when he’s not trying to fucking take my home from me. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry for harsh language in this home. You should hear me when I slip around on these floors,” he said, grinning.
“You really need to be careful, Mr. A. I’m not always here to check in on you.”
“I’m not your responsibility, Summer. But, your heart is. Would you like some friendly advice from a man who’s been there a few times in his life?” he asked.
“I’ll take anything at this point.”
“Call him. Tell him you want to talk, but make him do it in person. Sit that son of a bitch down and tell him exactly what you think. You only do a detriment to yourself by censoring your own voice. We live in a country where censoring is not something that’s allowed. Use your voice and tell him how you feel, Summer.”
“You have a point,” I said, grinning.
“The only words you’ll ever regret are the ones you don’t say. Call him. Entice him with those legs of yours. Tell him you want to talk, then say what you have to say. Get the answers you need to give yourself closure with whatever it is that’s bothering you, then come back around to me. We’ll figure out a plan of action together once the official numbers get back around to us.”
