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We finished our lunch and Ava excused herself, saying she needed to check on a few things before we met with Robert Morgan.
I finalized my speaking points and knew I had Morgan where I needed him. But that didn’t necessarily mean he’d sell me the property. Morgan was a gambler and he always bet on the underdog. I was not an underdog in this case, so I needed to impress him.
From the corner of my eye, I spotted Ava greeting a white-haired man wearing a blue pin-striped suit and yellow tie. The suit screamed bad taste, but Morgan was not one for fashion. He was all business. He kissed the back of Ava’s hand and she blushed, the color imprinting in my mind. She ushered him into my office.
“Mr. Morgan. Wonderful to see you, sir,” I said and shook his hand. “Please, take a seat.”
He remained standing just inside my office. “I don’t recall agreeing to this meeting, but my assistant insisted that I had.”
Thank you, Diane.
“Well, you’re a very busy man, sir. I’m sure it just slipped your mind.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t recall this meeting because I would never have agreed to it. I don’t plan on selling any of my properties. Not to you. Not to anyone. I came to tell you in person, so you’ll stop harassing my assistant.”
This was going to be harder than I thought. “I understand. But since you’re already here, why don’t you sit back and let me share some numbers with you?”
“I don’t have time for this—”
Ava walked into my office holding a coffee and a small package. “Excuse me, Mr. Morgan?”
He turned toward her with his fists curled at his sides. “Yes?”
“I hope you don’t mind the interruption, but I brought these cannoli for your meeting.”
“What?” I asked.
What the hell is she thinking? Interrupting my meeting for some pastries?
“My grandmother made them last night.” Her voice shook. “I understand homemade cannoli are your favorite, Mr. Morgan.”
Morgan’s mouth opened and I was certain it watered because he licked his lips as he stared at the white box in Ava’s hand.
“My grandmother is Sicilian, so they’re pretty authentic. But if you were heading out, I’ll just put these in the lunchroom for the staff.”
“No! I wasn’t leaving. Not yet, at least.”
She placed the cannoli on the meeting desk and I took my cue. “Why don’t we all take a seat and chat over there,” I suggested.
Morgan sat in front of the pastries faster than I’d thought possible. He groaned after taking a bite. “These are the best I’ve ever had,” he said, polishing off the first one.
“I’ll let my grandmother know,” said Ava, a ghost of a smirk curled on her lips as she sat at the table with her notebook and pencil ready. Holy Shit. She played him!
I sat down in front of Morgan and took advantage of his excellent mood.
After an hour of going through my plan and what that would mean to Morgan’s pockets, he finally stood up. “I’ll have to think about it, Crawford.”
“I understand. If there’s anything you need to clarify, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
I shook his hand and walked him to the door.
“Mr. Morgan, before you go,” Ava said as she grabbed something from her desk. She approached Morgan with another package, this time a white fancy lunch bag.
“I got these for Taylor. Your assistant mentioned they were his favorite.”
Who?
“You did?” asked Morgan. “How very thoughtful of you.”
