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Now, I’m risking the entire deal with my antics.
This whole fiasco has lobotomized me. I want it to be over so I can go back to my boring, ordinary life where kissing strange women for fantastic lies has no place.
Who’d have thought brokering new income streams for Higher Ends was the easy part?
Today feels downright simple even though it means another meeting with Forrest Haute.
I call Junie as I drive over to the Mill property for an inspection and a good look around.
As expected, it goes to voicemail.
She won’t call me back, either, if the last few days are any indication.
What the fuck ever.
I can’t let her be a distraction when I need to focus on Haute. Especially the fact that he hasn’t handed us a draft contract yet, despite talking up his excitement.
If Archer’s right about this guy jerking our chain, let alone backing out after everything, Patton and I will never live it down.
The property is close to the river, easy access to the main roads leading into the city, yet surrounded by greenery and trees that make it an oasis of privacy. It’s exclusive and appealing and so rustic-looking it’s easy to forget it’s in an urban setting. Frankly, it’s a crime that it’s been left to rot as artists’ lofts for years.
Forrest Haute waits for me beside his sleek Mercedes, already wearing an obnoxious smirk.
“Glad you could make it, Rory,” he says, offering me a hand as soon as I get out.
His palm feels just as clammy as I feared.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say. “I’ve been looking forward to getting another look at this place for a while. No pictures can ever do it justice.”
Nodding enthusiastically, he pulls out a key and takes me inside the large brick building. Inside, the renovated lobby already looks like it’s losing its shine.
It’ll definitely need to be overhauled for a high-end rental space. I wonder if he’s cut back on maintenance and cleaners due to his revenue woes.
That doesn’t seem to bother Haute as he displays the space, though, throwing out ideas we’ve already thought of.
“No need to sell me, Mr. Haute. We both know I’m on board,” I say as we come to a huge floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the river. Kansas City stirs in the distance, glinting in the light. “As much as I appreciate another chance to view the property with you personally, we’re keen to move on to the next stage.”
“Oh, right, the paperwork.” Haute waves a thick hand. “I’ll have that for you soon.”
Soon.
He’s been saying that for weeks. Maybe the deal isn’t as ‘done’ as it seems. Could it be he’s having trouble getting an outside interest to sign off on it?
I frown.
“Is everything okay with rights?” I ask bluntly. “If you need more time to ensure there are no conflicts, Higher Ends is more than willing to work with—”
“No. No, Rory, it’s just my company and the way it’s structured. I told you, we’re not the fastest but we always do it right. It’s a lovely location, isn’t it?” he says, pacing around in the light. “I’m sure you must be excited to put your own stamp on it, and frankly, so am I. You and your brothers have a chance to make something of this place I never could, and after putting so much muscle into it.” He sighs.
He’s hard as hell to read.
Is he diverting me or stalling me out? I’m not sure.
There’s also an odd melancholy in his voice. Somehow, I doubt handing over a lackluster property feels that personal. Not for a seasoned cutthroat who sees dollar signs first and last.
“We’re not short on ideas, but we haven’t committed to anything just yet. We can’t do that until we have all the boring t’s crossed,” I say.
He grins at me, but instead of saying anything more about the paperwork—like giving me a real date when he’ll sign off—he just twirls his signet ring around his little finger.
