Chapter 23
“It’s so bad.” Cari sipped her cup of hot tea and shook her head as she and Marina watched the news.
The Black Pinnacle story had taken flight and was way beyond local news.
It had spurred on a whole nest of stories about developers everywhere and the shady tactics often employed, and conversations about gentrification had become mired in current political rhetoric that often missed the point entirely.
In the midst of it all, Sheila’s photo kept popping up.
She was shown with her ex-wife, an equally haughty, elegant woman who somehow managed to look bored out of her skull no matter where they were photographed.
Sheila was no celebrity, and Marina had never come across a photo of her with anyone, which meant someone with access had leaked the photos.
“Make sure you have a fire extinguisher ready for when she explodes into a pure ball of raging flame with a face.” Marina sighed and flipped open a file. “Give me a nudge twenty minutes before the meeting, will you? I want time to pull myself together.”
Cari got up and took a stack of files with her. “Anything else you need?”
Marina just shook her head, already engrossed in the file on the desk.
After her near decapitation at the Apple Festival, she’d spent most of her weekend in the office doing research on the South Shore area, determining what buildings could be saved and repurposed, and which businesses might be worth investing in.
She’d put together the numbers for things like a community center and kids’ play area too.
She’d also done some recalculation based on the opening of the new Obama Presidential Center.
That alone would change the economics of the area, and in making those changes now, she’d set it up for greater buyout options down the road.
It would be good for the community in the short term, and good for Sheila in the long run.
And her promotion would be assured.
At a knock on her door, she looked up, surprised to see Cari with coffee and notepad in hand. “Twenty minutes. I’m going to set up the conference room.”
Marina nodded her thanks and stood to stretch.
In truth, her body ached a little from being tackled onto concrete by River.
She had a good-sized bruise on her butt cheek and a scrape on the back of her arm.
But if River hadn’t acted… She shuddered at the thought of that metal coming into contact with her face.
And damn if River hadn’t felt like she fit on top of Marina like the lid to a container.
But. There was always a but when it came to River.
She’d been almost dismissive, even though Marina had been there to give her a heads-up.
She thought River would be grateful, excited even, about the change in direction.
Instead, she’d been distant and had basically told Marina to go away.
It had stung far more than she wanted to admit.
She couldn’t make time to talk to Marina because of a stall selling witchy crap?
Why should she care? River was some woo-woo woman who talked to ghosts and had a business partner who pretended to hear people’s thoughts.
She hadn’t been interested in River since she’d found that out, and she sure as hell shouldn’t be interested in her now that they were on such different sides.
So why couldn’t she stop thinking about her?
“It’s time.” Cari hurried in, gathered the files into an ordered pile, and turned. “You should brush your hair. You’ve clearly been stress-twirling and now you’ve got static. The front desk just called to say Sheila’s on her way up.”
Marina leapt to the mirror, and sure enough, strands of her hair were standing up like her head had been rubbed with a balloon. “Fucking fuckface bastard.” She grabbed a bottle of water, tipped some into her hand, and then smoothed her wet palms over it, dropping the hair back into place.
She left her office and moved quickly to the conference room. Through the glass wall, she could see Sheila and seven members of her staff already in place. She’s traveling with an army now? Marina plastered on a professional smile. “Sheila.” She held out her hand.
Sheila ignored it, pulled Marina into a hug, and then kissed both her cheeks. “It’s so good to see you. You and I have plans after this meeting. I’ve missed spending time with you, but all this witch-hunt nonsense has been taking up my time. I hope you don’t feel neglected.”
Marina looked at the floor, trying to find an appropriate response that wouldn’t be incredibly insulting. “Not at all. I’ve been working hard on your behalf to figure out that middle-ground concept.” She ignored the fact that she suddenly had plans that didn’t include her input.
The door opened, and Cari moved aside to let in River, Mrs. Crabtree, and the board member who’d run the community meeting.
Sam something or other. There was also a woman Marina didn’t recognize.
After they’d all filed in, Rob walked past the window and glanced at her.
Out of everyone else’s line of sight, he made a noose motion at Marina and then laughed and sauntered away.
“Welcome. Please have a seat,” Marina said. If River wanted to keep walls up between them, no problem. Marina was a pro at that. “Can we get you anything to drink?”
Mrs. Crabtree, who looked a little less frothy than usual, said, “Coffee. Black. None of that silly fancy stuff.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cari gave her a brief, genuine smile, and then turned her attention to the others, all of whom declined.
“Get on with it, Marina. Time is being wasted.” Sheila’s snappish voice filled the room, and there was no missing the way River’s eyes narrowed.
Marina sat down at her place at the head of the long table. With Sheila’s people on one side and River’s little group on the other, it couldn’t have looked much less like a David vs. Goliath situation. Thank god the press can’t get a pic of this.
“Thank you all for coming. After plenty of communication with the community of South Shore, my client has come to realize that there’s another option worth exploring.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names,” she said, looking at the two people she didn’t know.
“Sam Kershaw.” He gave her a half-hearted smile. “You saw me at the community meeting. I own three of the buildings under offer which include businesses I started. I’m also on the board of directors for community engagement.”
Sheila gave a soft, nearly inaudible, snort of derision. River just shook her head, without taking her eyes off Sheila.
“I’m Estelle Gomez. I run the Tasa café. These mongrels haven’t come sniffing around my place because I’ve refused every offer ever made and I would continue to do so with my last breath.” She folded her arms, looking pleased with herself.
“We haven’t made an offer on your establishment because you serve good food.
Your restaurant has good ratings and brings in people from outside your community.
It has the kind of baseline chic new neighborhoods often have to create.
” Sheila’s tone was sharp, her gaze unerring as she stared Estelle down.
“Oh. Well.” Estelle unfolded her arms and raised her hands. “My apologies. I didn’t know I had your approval when it comes to rich people eating at my chic establishment,” she said, imitating Sheila’s clipped accent.
Marina was so surprised at Sheila’s bit of knowledge she didn’t say anything for a second, and then she shook it off. “Let’s take the temperature down. We’re here because we think we have a way to make both sides of this deal happy.”
“What deal, Marina?” River asked, soft, calm, non-confrontational. “We’ve never made one, and we don’t see any reason to capitulate. Especially now.”
“I understand that.” Marina met River’s gaze and was sad to see it lacked the warmth it usually had.
“What my client is proposing is investment through regeneration. She invests money in what we call opportunity zones. Those are areas that could really grow and change if they only received an influx of cash. Black Pinnacle would place targeted investment into training and resources that existing businesses need. We’ve gathered some businesses we think would benefit from this kind of community-driven development. ”
She slid the file to Sam, who reached out and flipped it open. He pulled reading glasses from his pocket and perched them on his long, pointy nose. She wondered how they didn’t slide right off.
“In addition, Black Pinnacle is willing to look at investing in affordable housing.”
“Explain in regular wording.” Estelle gave a directive, she didn’t ask a question.
“While the original plan had been to buy land and houses that were not commercially profitable and turn them into something more modern, Black Pinnacle is interested in investing in community land trust housing. That means buildings could be renovated, and rents would stay affordable for residents who already live in the community.”
Estelle’s head tilted as she clearly pondered that answer.
Marina felt Sheila’s gaze burning holes into the side of her head as she laid out the plan. She might be willing to go along with it, but Marina didn’t need to be able to read her energy in order to know she was raging against it.
“That’s essentially it.” Marina gave everyone her best lawyer smile. “What do you think?”
Mrs. Crabtree set her coffee cup down with a clank.
“What’s in it for them?” She tilted her head to the team across the table.
“Sure, you say she’s willing to invest all this money in our poor, downtrodden community.
” She pressed her hand over her heart, her eyes narrowed.
“But she’s not giving anything away for free, is she? ”
Marina took a deep breath. This was it. The moment when she had to walk a tightrope as thin as dental floss. “My client—”