Chapter Forty-Six
Things happened like clockwork. Jamie let Joesph take the lead in dealing with all the trades people. His experience clearly showed as he spoke with them. Joesph seemed pleased with the aircon company but not so pleased with the first painter.
“That won’t do,” Joesph said as soon as the painter drove away. “The paint he wants to use is cheap, cheap, cheap.” He shook his head as he drew a line through the name on his list. “I sure hope the last one is better.”
“Did Terry Hanson recommend anyone?” Jamie asked as he sat next to Joesph.
“The one coming at four is the one she spoke highly about. I hope she’s right.”
“What about the HVAC guy?”
“Yeah, I think they’ll work out well. They were on her list, too. I told him that all three units needed a system, but the diner had to be as soon as possible.” Joesph put a check mark next to the name. “After that, we’d work on the other two.”
Jamie looked at his watch. “Okay.” He sighed. “Now for Payton Manley. I had hoped to be able to cook for him or at least offer him a cup of coffee.”
“Well, sometimes shit just happens,” Joesph said. “It is what it is, I’m afraid.”
Jamie’s phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket. “Hello?”
“Jamie, it’s Adrian Jackson from Planters Credit Union. How are you?”
Jamie smiled, shaking his head. “I’m fine, Mr. Jackson, and yourself?”
“Oh...” Adrian chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just habit. Anyway, Mr. Manley and I are in the front parking lot of the diner, but the door is locked.”
“Walk around back, Adrian. We’re out here.”
“Okay. We’re. You’re not alone?”
“I will be.” Jamie motioned for Joesph to go upstairs.
“Be right there,” Adrian said, hanging up.
Jamie wiped his hands on his shorts. He looked down at himself and was happy that he was relatively clean.
Adrian Jackson was more than a head shorter than the former football player, Payton Manley, who was a massive man.
There was no doubt that he was an athlete.
He couldn’t help but compare Mike to this massive man.
They were both massive men, but he thought that Mike might be a little bigger than the retired footballer.
“Hello, Jamie,” Adrian said, his hand outstretched.
Jamie took his hand. “Hi, Adrian. Glad you could make it.”
“Mr. Throneaux,” Payton Manley greeted Jamie, his hand also out.
“Mr. Payton. Nice to meet you.” Jamie noticed how small his hand was in the financial manager’s.
“Same here.” He had a nice smile, and Jamie noticed that he didn’t crush his hand with the handshake, which he could have easily.
“I have to say that Dailey’s isn’t the same without you. They took paté maison par Pierre off the menu.”
Jamie chuckled. “Sorry. That was my recipe, and it goes with me as per my contract. Intellectual property and all that. They will more than likely take some other things off, I’m afraid. I did extend the timeline for that to happen since I left without notice.”
“I was told that there will be a new menu coming soon. I have a distinct feeling that it won’t be as good,” Mr. Manley said, his head shaking. “That makes me none too happy, I confess.”
“Would you two like to have a seat?” Jamie indicated the tables. “I’m sorry, but with the renovations going on... this is the only place to have a meeting.”
Adrian looked at the upstairs apartment.
“Yeah, that’s not an option either, I’m afraid.” Jamie could feel his face heat up. “It’s crammed full of all the stuff from my apartment in Atlanta.”
“I see. Not to worry. Right here will be fine.” Payton Manley opened his briefcase and took out a folder.
He looked at Adrian. “I think that will be all, Mr. Jackson. Thank you for arranging this meeting and showing me the way here. My office will be in contact if there is any other pending business.”
Jamie could see that Adrian was flustered as he stood up.
“Of course.” He shook hands with Payton, then Jamie. “Jamie, please let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“Will do, Adrian. Have a good rest of the day. Please say hello to Sarah for me. Tell her I’ll call as soon as I have time.”
“I sure will.” Adrian smiled and walked away.
Payton Manley watched as Adrian walked around the corner of the diner. “Now then, Mr. Throneaux,” he said, sitting back down and opening the manila folder in front of him.
“Please, call me Jamie.”
“Then you must call me Payton.” He smiled.
“I have to say... I was pretty anxious to meet with you. Your grandfather spoke very highly of you and was not at all surprised when I told him that you were the best chef in Atlanta. He barely nodded when I told him that, he only mumbled, ‘of course he is.’”
“Well... my grandfather...” Jamie looked down at his hands resting on the table. “My grandfather was a one of a kind. He played with his cards close to the vest, as they say.”
Payton laughed. “That, I dare say, is an understatement. There are very few men who put me through my paces as well as he did.”
Jamie smiled, thinking of his thin, elderly grandfather working Payton Manley over with financial details. “I can’t even imagine...” Jamie said, smiling.
“To be honest, after seeing his bookkeeping, I’d have hired him.”
“Wow. That’s saying something.”
“Now, down to business.” Payton opened the folder, and all the paperwork faced Jamie.
“This first page is a quick summary of all the accounts.” Payton tapped the first page. It was then that Jamie noticed the national championship ring that he was wearing. “There is a detailed accounting report for each account, in order as they appear on the summary.”
Jamie looked at Payton. “What do you mean by accounts? There is more than one?”
“Your grandfather insisted on multiple and varied accounts.” Payton shook his head.
“And this is why I would have hired Solan Puckett.” Payton pointed to the first line.
“This was the primary account, which was for you. If you go into the detailed account, you’ll notice that there are some long-term investments, and a few that could be considered ‘at risk,’” he explained.
“In the short term, they probably wouldn’t do very much, but in the long term, we feel that they will reap good benefits. ”
Jamie’s mouth fell open when he saw the account balance. He pointed to the number. “Is that for real?” He couldn’t move his eyes from the dollar amount.
“Yes, very much so.” Payton moved his finger down to the next one.
“This account was for both of your grandparents. Which of course is now yours according to their wills, which I was given copies of, via your grandfather. He wanted to make sure that things were taken care of for you. I believe that there could have been an issue regarding your mother. That was his main concern.”
Jamie had to blink a few times. He tried to focus on the number, but his eyes felt... blurred. He could only nod.
“Now, this next account is a little tricky.” Again, Payton moved his finger down the page.
“Your grandparents started a retirement fund for the diner’s employees upon their individual retirement dates.
Each employee has to have worked at the diner for at least ten years to be vested, or to qualify to receive a Mattie’s Diner pension.
My firm has been appointed trustee.” He tapped his finger once.
“Now they are listed individually, but the account has been pooled so that the maximum benefits can be achieved.”
Jamie read down the list. Each employee was named, with a pending dollar amount by their name. He looked up at Payton as a tear escaped his eye. “They don’t even know, do they?”
Payton shook his head. “They, your grandparents, were good people, even though I only met your grandmother once.”
Jamie made himself focus on the names and numbers. “So... if I’m reading this correctly, they have to be at least sixty-two to retire and have worked for the diner for ten years.”
“That is correct. As it stands, as of today, four of the staff are fully vested, having been with the diner for ten years or more. Two can retire at any time. Hazel can retire at any time but will have to wait until she is sixty-two to claim a pension, as will Minnie.”
“They did this for them.” Jamie was talking mostly to himself.
“Yes,” Payton answered, his voice soft. “Mind if I ask where they are while you’re doing the renovation?”
Jamie smiled, wiping his face with the back of his left hand. “I sent them all on a month-long vacation.”
“I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Payton said, smiling.
“Ha, you’ve not met my mother!”
Payton laughed. “That’s pretty much how your grandfather felt.”
“With good reason.”
“Let’s move on.” Payton’s finger went to the last line. “This is what your grandfather referred to as the hurricane account. If something happened and they needed cash fast, this account would provide that.”
“Oh, holy shit.” Jamie’s eyes opened wide.
“Okay, now that you’ve seen all this, and I’ve seen all this”—Payton waved towards the diner—“I would recommend that you leave as much of this as it is at the moment. I got the feeling from Mr Jackson that there is more than adequate funding to finish your renovations and then some.”
Jamie nodded, and a thought occurred to him. “What if there isn’t? How do I access... you know... something from this account?” He pointed to the last one.
“I can liquidate as much as you need with twenty-four hours’ notice, if it is a business day, a little longer if it’s on a weekend.”
Jamie sat there looking at the numbers, still gobsmacked.
“Would you like to go over the finer details of each account?” Payton asked.
“I... don’t think I can,” Jamie said. “I’m having a hard time getting my head around all this. I never... well... expected any of this.”
“I understand. I’ll leave this with you. I suggest you put it in a safe. You do have a safe?”
“Yes, upstairs.”
“Very well. But please, read through all of this.” He tapped the closed folder. “If at any time you have any questions or need anything, my personal number is stapled to the back cover of the folder.”
Jamie nodded that he understood.
“I’ve got to ask the question: Are you planning on staying with my firm for your investment and financial needs?”
Jamie shook his head, trying to comprehend the question. “I think so, yes. Why do you ask? If my grandfather trusted you, then I will as well.”
“It’s not a law that I have to ask, but I’ve been in this business long enough to know that I need, to put it bluntly, cover my own ass.”
Jamie laughed. “Of course. Gotcha. Yes, things are to stay the same.”
“Very well then. There is a yearly contract at the back of the reports. If you could, please sign it and get a notary stamp. It’s just to keep things official.” Payton stood, closing his briefcase. “I won’t keep you any longer. I know you’re busy.”
“Thank you for coming all the way down to Columbus. I do appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure.” Payton shook Jamie’s hand again. “If you would do me one small favour?”
“Sure, if I can.”
“Let me know when you have the diner up and running. I’ve heard that you make the best biscuits in the state.”
“I don’t know all about that, now,” Jamie said, chuckling and shaking his head. “It is my grandmother’s recipe that I kind of tweaked, is all.”