Chapter Fifteen
Adam
Preston drove us to the potential headquarters site. We didn’t say much on the car ride over, and when he pulled into a parking space, he turned off his Mercedes with a sigh. “What’s up, man?”
“Just thinking about things.”
“About her, right?”
“Yep.” I hooked my fingers in the car handle and almost opened the car door, but Preston clapped a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“Again. Always Lila. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone. Ever.” He narrows his eyes. “You’re obsessed.”
“Come on, man. I’m not that bad. You’ve just never seen me date anyone.”
Preston snorted. “Are you dating her?”
“Yes. No.” I shook my head, cursing that I couldn’t remove Lila from the forefront of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried. “I don’t know. I just know I need her in my life. Now she’s back again—I mean, now that I’ve tracked her down again, I won’t let her go.”
“But that was always your plan.”
“So what?” I nodded at the front door of our potential second headquarters.
We were parked in front of an expansive office space made of concrete and steel in some business park I’d never heard of in my life.
A red-haired woman in a navy suit waited for us to get out of the car, and I guessed she was Sheila, the broker we were supposed to meet for this walk through.
“You have a good feeling about this one?”
“I do.” Preston twisted and retrieved a leather embossed folio from the back seat. “I have all the numbers right here. It makes sense.”
“What are we offering if we like it?”
“Forty million.” He waved the portfolio at me. “Cash.”
I let out a low whistle as I surveyed the property through the windshield.
If we bought it, we’d have to fix the landscaping almost immediately, as well as the signage and entry.
Whoever owned the place now did take care of it, but not to my standards, and certainly not to the standards of a leading tech company.
“Does that seem fair? Sounds steep to me, considering the condition this place is in.”
“That’s our top number. I’ve run the figures and with investment in the property, we can more than handle this and see it rise in value in the next five years.” He slapped his hand on the steering wheel. “Let’s go.”
We got out of the car, and as we approached, Sheila straightened her spine and patted the back of her hair. “Mr. Greene, Mr. Samuels.”
The three of us shook hands, and she led us inside.
We walked through an atrium and a large lobby, as well as three conference rooms, a central workspace, and other facilities.
It was all very bland and somewhat boring, but Sheila had an entire presentation ready with potential renderings on how InstaPost could convert the space.
Preston seemed engaged in the process, so I humored him.
And as always, I trusted him. If he thought this would improve our operations, then I had to agree with him.
“I say we bite on it,” he said in the car as we pulled away, leaving Sheila to wonder about our decisions after a few vague comments about talking to our board. “What did you think?”
“It’s optimal.” I surveyed the business park as we left. “Not convinced about the location, but it will fit our growth. The space is large enough we’ll have the room we need.”
“We should have the same design team who did our Manhattan offices do this one.” Preston turned the car onto one of the state highways that crisscrossed this section of Palm Beach County. Already the sun was too bright, and I squinted. “They’ll give it a good vibe.”
“It doesn’t have any vibe now.”
He laughed. “No, it doesn’t. But that’s part of the charm.”
“Who owns it currently?”
Preston clicked his teeth. “Not sure. Some LLC called Our Properties Unlimited.”
I snorted. “Well, that’s not shady at all.”
“Ah, Florida real estate. You gotta love it.” He laughed and turned on the music in the car. We drove for a little while in silence. “But seriously, what do you think?”
“I’m willing to make an offer, but I won’t go higher than thirty.”
“That’s ten under the list price.”
“So what?” I shrugged. “South Florida is booming, my friend, and our company can get other property elsewhere if we need it. We don’t have to go with this one, even if it does fit our needs on paper.”
He sighed as we crossed the bridge from West Palm Beach into Palm Beach. “You know what? You can be a real hard-ass sometimes.”
“So?”
“It’s just worth noting.”
I started to reply, but then my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I took it out and found a message from a familiar number, one I recognized even though I no longer had the contact programmed into my list. Lila. I opened the screen.
Hey, Adam, I hope this is still your phone number. Listen, I’m sorry I left so abruptly. Is there any way I can I make I up to you? Dinner?
I didn’t give my reply a second thought.
Of course. How about we meet at St. Martin’s? 7:30?
She agreed, and I slipped the device back into my pocket.
“Do I even have to guess?” Preston asked as he turned onto Ibis Isle.
“Nope.”
“Lila, right?”
“What can I say?” I spread a hand. “There’s only one woman for me, and it’s her.”
“Whatever you say.” Preston pulled the car into my driveway, and I turned to him. “Okay, if you want this space for our headquarters, then call Sheila in an hour or so and let her know the company will make an offer, but I won’t allow more than thirty for the deal. So, keep it tight, all right?”
My best friend nodded.
“Good. With that in mid, I’m going to get to work on InstaPost’s redesign. I saw the app mockups the other day from creative and while I liked it, I don’t think it’s quite right.” I smiled. “Needs a little Adam Greene magic.”
“Hop to it,” Preston replied. “And I’ll tell Sheila.”
I worked on the redesign for a while before taking a long shower and getting ready to meet Lila. It was a date in my mind, but it also wasn’t. I looked forward to spending more time with her, though, and I hoped she’d explain why she left my place so abruptly.
I showed up at St. Martin’s Bistro in the Royal Poinciana Plaza with an agenda. I tossed the keys to the Bentley at a valet and strode into the hotspot with some spring in my step. I was Adam Greene, after all, and even on an island full of somebodies, I was a somebody too.
I arrived first. After giving my name to the hostess, I slipped into a seat at the bar and ordered a Manhattan.
The place was already full, as per the usual during season, and I admired that about the restaurant.
The ownership had gone all out on décor that resembled fine dining in the 1950s, albeit with a crisp ultramodern flair full of white lights and gold detailing.
“Adam Greene, is that you?” a voice behind me asked. I jumped at the sound, and turned to find Katrina, the forgettable woman from that night at The Breakers. She had an expectant look on her face, along with a dazzling smile. “So good to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too,” I replied.
“We missed your party last weekend.”
“What party?’
She grinned. “The one you threw, silly. I figured out a few days after our dinner you’re the one behind all of those fabulous events.” A small laugh escaped her lips. “I should have known you weren’t Alan from New York. Silly me.”
“Well, I’m sorry you missed it, because that’s the last one of the season. I’m not having anymore.”
“You aren’t?” She raised her left eyebrow. “Why not?”
“I figured Palm Beach needed something new.” I gave her a tight, dismissive smile. “Didn’t want the island to get into a rut.”
“But they were epic. Amazing.”
“Exactly.” I snapped two fingers. “That’s why they had to end. Need to keep the island wanting more and go out on top.”
The corners of her mouth turned down and she jutted out her bottom lip. “Don’t you think there is a need around here for something like that?”
“No, I don’t.” This conversation was already going too long. I relished the arrival of my cocktail. I downed a long sip.
“A shame.” Katrina undressed me with her eyes. “Are you here on your own, or—?”
“I’m meeting someone.”
“Who?”
“I doubt you know her.” I looked across the room at the restaurant’s entryway to see if by some miracle Lila might be walking through the door, but she wasn’t.
Instead, an elderly gentleman with a walker and a woman half his age entered the establishment, looking for a table in an already crowded room.
“She and you don’t run in similar circles. ”
Katrina put a hand on her hip. “Try me.”
I reluctantly moved my attention back to her. “Lila Montague.”
“Lila Montague.” Her voice turned shrill. “Lila Montague?”
“Is there a problem?”
“No. It’s just very interesting, that’s all.”
“I know she’s quite well known around here.”
“She is, but it’s not that.” Katrina lifted her eyebrow.
“I’m referring to ‘interesting’ in a different way.
” She leaned closer to me. “It’s just, well, I know some people in town, and a few of them…
” She glanced over her shoulder as if she wanted to make sure no one listened to us.
Not that a crowded restaurant would really have been the place to divulge intimate information, but I didn’t count on this vapid woman to understand the nuances of that.
“A few of them know Lila in a different way.”
She put emphasis on the second to last word as if I should get her hidden implication.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I’m not following you.”
“Well, she’s…things have been different for her lately, and a few people have noticed—”
She broke off when I stood from the bar chair. As if on cue, right when Katrina spoke about her, Lila entered the restaurant. She breezed through the front door wearing a purple lace dress, her hair on top of her head, a slash of red lipstick across her mouth.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to the bartender.