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I pulled back, meeting her glassy eyes. “You want me?”
“Yes, please, Ian. I need you.”
“What do you need from me?”
“Everything,” she said breathlessly.
“As you wish.”
How I hate leaving her. Groaning, I rub a hand along my neck. I’ll be back with her soon, but not soon enough. I glance at the clock and frown. It’s going to be a long day.
“Mr. Grisham, what makes you think this change can’t be done?”
The men are arguing again and to be completely frank, I’m over it.
I stand, pulling my suit coat off, rolling the sleeves of my shirt up.
“I didn’t say it couldn’t be done. I believe my exact verbiage was, shouldn’t. Take a look at this diagram here.” I move my hand to the northeast corner of the building. “This section of ground is already showing signs of instability. This is California, gentlemen. The hillsides are one hard rain away from washing away. Putting a hotel on the cliffside is dangerous, and I won’t build there. I’m not staking my good name on a project I am not one-thousand percent into.”
“You’re under contract!” Mr. Reacher jumps to his feet.
“He hasn’t signed the contract yet, Sam, sit down.”
“Mr. Jones is correct. I did not sign that contract yet. This meeting was to see if things have changed. As I can see they have not, I will not be entering into this contract. Nor will I agree to any future projects with your company.”
“You’re supposed to be the best; make it work.”
“Let’s set the record straight. I am great at what I do. I, however, am not a god to tell the hillside to stay put. That is a death trap waiting to happen. Read the survey reports. Take the words in them to heart and find another place to build your ocean-view hotel. I’m not putting my name on something that is guaranteed to kill someone in the next heavy rains.”
I angrily grab my jacket, backpack, the sketches and rolls of blueprints from the table and head for the door. I need out of here before I end up punching someone. This trip has been a complete waste of my time, energy and brain cells. All for nothing. I don’t care what the amount of money is, what it will do for my reputation—no project is worth doing when I know it is destined to go bad.
A hotel that’s basically on stilts.
On a hillside in California.
Just to get a good view of the ocean.
Hell no.
They’d all wake to an in person ocean view at this rate.
I hate even being in this damn state. The worry of an earthquake always sends my anxiety through the roof. I’d been here in 2014. The earthquake that hit the north end of San Francisco had caused major damage, killed a lot of people, and scared me for life. I’d been here for a college friend’s wedding. Needless to say, the moment I could get out of town and head home, I did. We’d driven to Las Vegas, caught a red eye home, and until three days ago, I had avoided this state like the plague.
Now, it’s time to change my flight and get the hell out of here.
I walk from there to the hotel. I need the smog to clear my head. Funny how that works. When I enter the main lobby, I go to the concierge desk. “Excuse me.”
“Yes, how may I help you?” an older gentleman asks, his chipper smile on full display.
“Could you tell me where I can find the best place for a good steak?” I chuckle. “There’s too many places for me to narrow down where to start.”
“Absolutely. Harris’s Steak House. They are in the top twenty-five steakhouses in California.” He leans in a little closer. “It’s one of my favorite places to take the missus on special occasions.”
I give a nod. I am alone, but if it’s that good of a place, I don’t guess they’ll care. “Would you be so kind as to get me a cab? I’ll need about ten minutes to put my belongings in my room.”
“Certainly, sir. I will get right on that.”
“Thank you.” I shake his hand, slipping him a twenty before hurrying across the lobby toward the elevators.
