“I get it, but maybe have a little faith in her. She put a lot of faith in you when she brought JR home to the club.” He shifted his feet and looked at the ground for a second, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think she would have gone to this much trouble if she didn’t think she could turn it around. It might even be our best business once she gets it up and running. It won’t be overnight, but you shouldn’t be worried about letting her do her thing.”
We smiled and chuckled as I slapped him on the shoulder. Walking towards the front door, we prepared ourselves for the inside. There were no lights on, and I wasn’t sure if they even had electricity on in the building. A distinctive musty smell invaded my nose. The place must have been closed up for a while. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves without breathing in too deep.
“Here,” Grizz said to me, holding out a piece of paper. “I grabbed one of Meredith’s designs so that you could see what they’re thinking. She doesn’t know I have it.”
There was a generic bride and groom standing underneath a wooden altar. This place sat on a hill, but the windows faced the water. Meredith had drawn an open concept room, using the windows as the focal point. However, a small drawing showed the windows on a track that could slide open and closed. “A beach wedding without the beach,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, and I know where we can get those. They’re not actually as expensive as you would think they are.” Pointing his finger, he continued, “She put curtains in the rafters, probably with twinkle lights or some shit like that. As long as the roof is good, we can open the room, and it’ll make it look bigger than what it is.”
“Do they only have the one room?” I asked him. We were alone, and I had no clue where the other two were in the building.
“No, there’s three total. This one, and each side has a small room on the wing.”
“How do you know so much about this?” I was getting suspicious about Grizz’s motivations. He seemed to have an answer for everything.
“It makes my woman smile.” He shrugged. “She won’t want to be a part of it, but she’ll help Grace come up with the concepts and designs. That’s what they’re already doing now. If it gets Meredith out of bed, I’ll help Grace as a thank you.”
I changed the subject quickly, not wanting to drag him down when he was trying to help me. “How much do you think renovations are going to be?” I was still staring at the paper. They had thought of everything, and I wondered if I wasn’t putting enough trust in it. This was what Grizz had been trying to tell me. It was a business. There would always be things to worry about.
“It’s the roof and any structure damage that will cost, and you know that depends on how bad it really is.” He pointed towards the drawing. “All of this cosmetic stuff I can do, like the arch. Most places rent them out, and it’ll be easy money for Grace.”
“Do you agree with this?” I asked him, needing to confirm I had been overthinking it.
“As long as we stay within budget, we can always sell the place later.” He smacked me on the shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Cyph and Count walked back into the main room with a short, balding man between them.
“Prez, this is Ezekiel Jones. He’s the real estate agent for the property,” Count introduced.
“Mr. Hudson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Jones held out his hand, sweat dripping off of it. I took one look at the water drops landing on the floor and didn’t bother to offer my hand. I wasn’t touching any of that. “Yes, well, I was told you were interested in purchasing it today. We’ve had the property evaluated and priced accordingly at one million. Mrs. Richardson isn’t willing to negotiate.”
I might have been president, but this was Count’s show as our treasurer, and I knew to keep my mouth shut.
“Have you talked to Mrs. Richardson today?” he asked, squinting at the man.
“No, I haven’t.” Mr. Jones’s bald spot started to sweat and pour down his face.
“You need to call her.” Count’s spikes rattled as he shook his head and rubbed at his forehead. I’d seen these types of situations in the past. Count was going to wipe the floor with him, and Mr. Jones wouldn’t see it coming until it was over.
Mr. Jones rubbed his hand over his balding head, getting sweat everywhere. We all took a step back. No one wanted to be near the man.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting, so either you’re going to call her, or I am. You don’t want me to tell her about this incompetence. I could easily offer to run her portfolio with half the time you bill.” Count wasn’t lying. He probably could if he wanted the job.
“Yes, sir.” Mr. Jones took off running.
“Told you,” Count said to Cyph.
“Yeah, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“What just happened?” Grizz asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I had Cyph trace who actually owned this place. It’s a Mrs. Betty Richardson, and she inherited it from her late husband.”
“Then why is it called McMillan?” Grizz asked, interested.
“Her late husband named it after his mother’s family. From what I can tell, the mother didn’t approve of her son’s marriage, and they never got along.” Count wrapped his arms around his middle. “Mrs. Richardson couldn’t care less about this place, and she didn’t want to put any money into it. I told her if she took our offer, it’d be our problem. She agreed, and you were supposed to sign the paperwork, Prez.”