Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Eric
J esus fucking Christ. The guy had brass balls, that was for damn sure.
“Why are you in my office again, James?” I asked, my voice cold and hostile, not that I gave a fuck after learning what he’d done to Jasmine. It was all I could do not to pummel the shit out of him.
A little over a week after his first visit, the bastard had the nerve to stand across the room from me once again, a sly grin on his face as he leaned against my office door frame, oh-so-casually. Unfortunately, my receptionist had called in sick with the flu, which left the front end unmanned, and this asshole had waltzed right in as if he owned the place.
Pretentious, obnoxious fucker.
“I know it’s early, but I just wanted to come by and talk a little business with you,” he said with a shrug. “We are colleagues, after all, in the same circles. Is that so odd?”
My gaze narrowed on him. “After our last conversation, I wasn’t under any sort of impression that we needed to speak with each other further, honestly.”
James chuckled and finally moved into my office, clearly unfazed by my unwelcoming tone and comment. I exhaled a harsh, frustrated stream of breath, closing the file that I had out on my desk detailing a new art house project I wanted to fund.
“What do you want?” I asked again. “I’m busy.”
Stopping on the other side of my desk, he pushed his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “I just stopped by to see if you received an email from my office about that Shoreside property we spoke about the last time that I was here.”
The fucking nerve of the guy. During his last visit, James had insisted he wasn’t bothered that I’d acquired the property over him, that he was fine without Shoreside, but I’d known better. A man like James didn’t like to lose, and he certainly didn’t like being made a fool of while I’d snatched the prime piece of real estate right out from under him.
“As a matter of fact, I deleted the email without reading it because I don’t give a shit what it might have said.”
Indignation flashed in James’ eyes, before he quickly concealed it. “I should have known. You could have just sent a polite decline, Eric. No need to be so rude.”
“I think deleting the email was more politeness than you deserve,” I said, leaning back in my leather chair, wanting him to feel small and insignificant after what he’d put Jasmine through. “My acquisition of the property is not negotiable. I’ve already secured it. I’ve already lined up a suitable selection of vendors for the venue. I have already scheduled an opening and several showings. I have nothing to gain from reneging on my contract, and quite frankly, I have nothing to gain by giving you the thing that you want the most because I don’t fucking like you, James. So why the fuck are you here? Because surely you don’t think that speaking to me in person is going to make me change my mind.”
By the time I was done, a faint flush of anger suffused his face. He leaned over my desk, his hands resting flat on the top of it, a sneer on his lips. “We both know you have enough money that giving up the Shoreside property wouldn’t hurt you. You’re just entertained by scalping other people’s business ventures, namely, mine. But it’s bad for the economy, even worse for the flow of money in Coral Gables, and ultimately that’s what I care about—"
My harsh laughter cut him off. “The irony here is that you’re implying that I seed enough money into the flow of Coral Gables’ economy when it thrives because of the investments I make into its culture is monumental.”
James gave me a tight lipped smiled. “There would be more money and profit being made if you weren’t practically giving it away hosting these fucking poor people you’re always entertaining in the galleries. You don’t make them rent spaces, people spend so much on their pieces that the artist’s profit is one hundred percent, and you have them ‘pay it forward’ as something optional—”
“Almost all of the artists pay it forward because they see the value in helping the artistic community overall,” I countered. “Stop embarrassing yourself, James. You’ve got enough money that this tantrum of yours is frankly, making you look desperate. There are plenty of properties all up and down the Florida coast, and especially in Coral Gables. You don’t need the Shoreside property.”
James’ nostrils flared as he took a measured breath in. It gave me pause—not because his frustration threatened me, but that he had the frustration at all. James was not a man to unravel in the manner in which he currently seemed to be. He was far too cocky and arrogant to show that kind of weakness—so what was going on?
I carded my hands over my desk, head tilting as the realization hit me. The reason why James wanted Shoreside so desperately. “You need the property because you’ve fucked up somewhere along the way and that property is the key to getting you out of a mess of your own making, isn’t it?”
That theory seemed to touch a nerve with James, giving me my answer. A vein popped at his temple, and his jaw clenched. “I don’t fuck up.” He pushed away from my desk, straightening his back. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing me around. You have your hands on things that I want and we just can’t have that now, can we?”
Not just the Shoreside property, now he was intimating Jasmine. I all but bared my teeth at him. “We’re done here, James. Get the fuck out of my office.”
James stormed out, clearly pissed off, not that I cared—unless he dared to approach Jasmine in any way, then all bets were off.
Once he was gone, I immediately sent an email to a security firm I did business with, one that had an investigative division that conducted deep dives into all sorts of people and ventures. I told my contact exactly what kind of details on James I was looking for, then all I had to do was sit back and wait for the report.
It didn’t take long, which was the beauty of having them on retainer. Before noon, I received files that provided in-depth information on the business ventures connected to James’ name. The properties and buildings he’d acquired over the past few months riveted my attention the most, all prime locations, fronted with huge amounts of cash. The amounts weren’t necessarily the problem, not for someone like James. It was the fact that the real estate had been paid with cash, but that money couldn’t be accounted for or traced.
More digging into James’ records revealed something equally interesting, that he seemed to be in a massive amount of debt. There were numerous lines of credit, refinanced mortgages, and the like, upwards of five million dollars. I couldn’t help but wonder, was he in debt because he was randomly buying up properties, or was he buying up properties because he was in debt? If he planned to do something with those buildings and use the revenue to pay off his debts…
Whatever the case, James was in a distinctive money bind, and the Shoreside property I had purchased for the new art space was worth the most—it would have turned over the most profit if he had decided to turn it into a cash making machine. It would have been the smart thing to do if someone was angling for a steady cash flow, that was for fucking certain.
Satisfied with what I’d discovered, I saved a copy of the files to peruse in more detail later. I might have found the leverage I needed to get rid of James, at the very least ammunition to show him who held the ultimate control so that he’d think twice about crossing paths with Jasmine, or even myself, again.
He’d started this war, and I planned to win it.