Page 4 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

“Just gotta take this,” I say as they ignore me. I step away but don’t leave the private room Worth has arranged for tonight’s dinner.

“Leo Hart,” I say as a pretty waitress enters carrying some of our appetizers. She’s cute. Blonde. Short. Full red lips and a nice arse. I make a mental note to find her later and see if she wants to get a late-night drink, and by drink, I mean come back to my place and get naked.

“It’s Jonathan fromProperty International,” the caller on the other end of the phone says.Property Internationalis a trade journal for people in the real estate business, and Jonathan is the longtime editor. They’ve done some interviews with me, but I’m not expecting a call from them.

“Hey, Jonathan,” I say, flashing a smile at the waitress. She smiles back and the glint in her eye tells me I know what—or rather, who—I’ll be doing later. “It’s been a while. How’s things?”

“I’m going to cut to the chase. I know you’re a busy man. As you know, theProperty Internationalannual awards are coming up next month.” My mind races ahead. He wants to tell me I’m nominated for Developer of the Year. Because I’malwaysnominated for Developer of the Year. I’ve won it more times than I’ve lost it.

“Awards season,” I say with a chuckle.

“We’re awarding you Developer of the Decade. Thought I’d give you plenty of warning so you can get your speech prepared.”

My breath catches for just a second, and I compose myself. “Wow,” I say. “Is this a new thing? I’m not sure I remember a Developer of the Decade award before.”

“Ten years ago, you weren’t a thing.”

It’s true. Ten years ago, I was buying and flipping one-bedroom apartments in New Jersey. Life looks different with a bit of runway in front of me and a few risky decisions that paid off behind me.

“Well, I’m very flattered. When’s the ceremony?”

“October,” Jonathan says. “It’s at the Plaza. We’re expecting it to sell out. Only 600 tickets and we have a new lead sponsor who’s really publicizing to their connections.”

Of course the announcement of my award comes with a not-so-subtle sales pitch. This awards ceremony is a money maker for the magazine, because everyone who’s nominated will buy a table for the low, low price of ten thousand dollars.

“Well, sign me up for a table of ten as usual.” I always bring members of my team.

“Great news,” Jonathan says. “And congratulations. You’re doing amazing things.”

“Er, thanks.” What other reaction is there to praise like that? I might have lived in America for nearly twenty years, but the British inside me still can’t take a compliment. I know I’m good at what I do. I know I started with nothing and now dominate Manhattan real estate development. I’m not quite sure how to react when someone plays that back to me.

We hang up and I go back to the table.

“Everything okay?” Bennett asks from beside me.

“Yeah, that was a guy who organizes the property industry awards. He called to tell me I’m going to be awarded Developer of the Decade.”

Bennett pats me on the back. “Congratulations, my friend.”

Fisher’s on the other side of me. “It’s not Hotelier of the Decade, that’s for sure. Bennett is whipping our asses at the moment.”

“He was living in the fucking hotel for months,” Jack says. “We still haven’t decided whether that was a breach of competition rules.”

I chuckle to myself at the lack of airtime my award gets me among my friends. It’s oddly comforting to know that nothing any of us can do will leave the others in awe. We’re equals. We don’t pander, we don’t flatter and we don’t lie to each other.

The six of us met at business school, where we set up an app to deliver prescription medicines to people’s homes as part of a group project. It made each of us a literal fortune. It meant I went from flipping tiny apartments in New Jersey to building tower blocks in Manhattan. When we sold out, we each bought a hotel as a side hustle so we had acontinued connection and a way of competing that kept us bound together.

Problem is, Bennett’s hotel has been dominating for the last few years. I need to switch out the manager at my place. He’s old and tired. But he’s a safe pair of hands and I’m so busy, I don’t want to spend precious time overseeing someone new who’s more of a risk. It’s a problem for another day.

“That’s great,” Worth says. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“You taking a date?” Bennett asks.

I know he’s low-key worried about me since the last woman I dated turned out not to be who she said she was, but I’m more than over it. I’m not lacking for female company.

“Nah, it’s a work thing. I’ll take the team.”And I doubt I’ll leave alone, I don’t add.

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