Page 5 of Selfie

I take in a panoramic view of the broken columns amidst the piles of rubble. Sludge is leaking from the fallen pipes and liquid is getting uncomfortably close to the coils upon coils of ripped-up electrical wires. “Are we looking at the same thing here?”

“All this space,” Dad murmurs, spinning in place. “I’m thinking a manmade lake with a projected water show. Maybe burlesque dancers on giant floating lily pads.” He waves his hands in the air like he’s shoving off the idea. “But I’m not committed to anything yet, so if you’ve got something on your mind, jump in.”

I blink at him. “Before we start talking about giant lily pads, can we discuss your definition of ‘light facelift’? Because I’m looking at a flimsy house of cards, held together with thin toothpicks. Dad, you bought fifty acres of rubble. And what the hell is that smell?”

He rubs his hands together as he grimaces. “The sewage smell or the burning rubber?”

“What sewage smell?” I cringe.

“It gets stronger that way.” Dad points over his shoulder. “We’re not sure where it’s coming from. Possibly a drain issue.”

“Great.” I stab my fist against my forehead. “And the burning rubber?”

“This building’s been abandoned for a few years. There were some squatters. Looks like they’ve been burning tire scraps for warmth.”

“Dad, up until ten minutes ago, I really thought you were the most savvy property investor in the world.”

His grin is wicked. “And now?”

“Now I think you need a CAT scan before making any more business decisions.” Right on cue, a light breeze brings a waft of the aforementioned sewage stink.

From what I understand, this was supposed to be a strip mall, and when the project went bankrupt, it was acquired by a new group of investors who attempted to convert the space into a massive hotel. The more costly the construction got, the more the investors lost interest in the project. Obviously, they cut their losses and abandoned ship.

“I looked at the bill of sale. We were already upside down before I saw this giant mess. You paid more than one hundred million dollars for the land alone?—”

“It’s a prime location.”

“It’snot,” I argue. “It’s too far west of the Strip. The only people who venture this far are lost, looking for Chinatown.”

Dad lays his hand on his stomach. “Speaking of which, I could go for dim sum. Want to finish up here and make plans for lunch? I’ll call Jules. She knows the best restaurants.” He shoots me a pointed look. “Can I invite her?”

“I have lunch plans.”

Fucking Julia.That’s a whole other issue. My dad’s current girlfriend is the epitome of a late-life crisis.

“You can’t avoid her forever.”

Watch me.

Eager to change the subject, I ask further about Dad’s most recent harebrained purchase. “Who owns the lot directly behind this?”

Dad’s grunt of irritation tells me all I need to know. “Who do you think? Senior.”

Griffin Harvey Senior is Dad’s biggest rival for property on the Strip. They’re both heavy into real estate investments, and Harvey has a knack for swooping in and purchasing properties my dad has his eye on.

“We’d need it for a decent-size parking garage. A resort like this is not going to work without a parking garage.”

“Yeah, well, if I make an offer to Harvey, he’ll hold the property just out of spite.”

“I thought your rivalry was a ‘little friendly competition.’”

Dad licks his lips. “Let’s just say it’s gotten a bit heated over the past few years.”

“Heated as in enough fire to burn bridges?”

He teeters his head. “You could say that. Aren’t you friends with his grandson?”

“Somewhat.” Finn and I used to be pretty close. We’re both UNLV graduates and had the same friends. But a few years ago, we lost touch. Actually, I mostly lost touch with everyone. “I’ll make a call and see what I can find out.”

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