Page 41 of The Biker's Brother

Richard was immediately guarded. Michaels had been around for over two years and had never given him the time of day. “Lunch?”

“Yes. If you must know, I want to proposition you. I’ve always admired your service to Carmichael. Professional. Efficient. Precise. Give me an hour of your time and let me pitch working for me. Doesn’t cost a thing to listen. Right?”

“Perhaps.” Trey could hear suspicion dripping from Hillfort’s tone, but he knew before he ever made that call that curiosity would win out in the end.

“I’m checking out 33 Arch today. I’m thinking about taking some space there. Meet me on the thirty-third floor at one and we’ll have a private lunch.”

A private lunch on the thirty-third floor? Rich knew he was going to say yes. He couldn’t turn it down. After all, he’d just been thinking that he’d reached a career dead end. But maybe not.

In his head, he was already making a preliminary list of perks he’d ask for to negotiate a contract to work for Michaels, whom he found distasteful, but there were lots of things more important than personality.

“Isn’t that the same building the Securities and Exchange Commission is in?” Richard asked.

“Hmmm. Not sure. Why?”

Of course Trey knew it was the same building that housed the SEC. Trey never did anything without purpose.

“No reason. Of course I will join you for lunch so long as we agree that the conversation is not only private, but also confidential.”

“Certainly. That’s why I picked a place where we won’t be seen together.”

“Alright. Looking forward to it.”

“See you at one.”

Trey ended the call and smiled.

One of the things he loved about being rich was that money could make almost anything happen. He couldn’t trust leaving the details of the meeting to anyone else.

He personally called Déjà Vu Catering, he’d seen their trucks parked at some of the biggest society events and knew they were top shelf. When he explained that he needed gourmet lunch delivered and served with the best china, linens, crystal, and silver that could be rented, they laughed. Until he mentioned how much he was willing to spend.

Trey Michaels had a courier deliver cash in an envelope. The caterer probably interpreted that as a signal to mean that the client, who’d given the name of John Bigliogi, was flying below the radar. Like a lot of people, they didn’t examine the ethics of cash too closely. And like a lot of people, they gave even better service to people who paid cash.

He’d been to 33 Arch Street the day before and made arrangements with building management to have exclusive use of the top floor for an hour and a half to serve lunch to members of the board. After dazzling the young lady who showed him the space with sex laden charm, a phony business card and hints about his growing real estate needs, she was happy to accommodate.

He accepted the key from the management office at 12:15 and met Déjà Vu Catering on the top floor at 12:30. By the time Richard arrived for the lunch meeting, a table was set in a huge corner office with a breathtaking view of the Boston Commons and Charles River beyond.

The caterer had exceeded expectations.

The table was covered in crisp white linen. The china was heavy and white with an understated double gold rim. The white wine was chilled on ice. And a mass of orange lilies packed into a clear square vase formed a low centerpiece that looked like prosperity come to life.

A side table was set up with tossed salad and hot dishes under warmer domes.

Trey wasn’t surprised when he heard the elevator ding at precisely one o’clock. Richard was a stickler for punctuality, a fine trait for someone in his position.

“Come in.” Trey smiled.

The entire floor was empty. Not a stick of furniture, but it was clean and pristine with new carpet and paint recent enough to be called fresh, but not so recent as to be unpleasantly smelly.

Richard shook Trey’s extended hand then followed him to the office where lunch was set up. One look at the view and Richard said, “I see why you’d want to office here. That’s impressive.”

“Yes. Well. As it turns out, we won’t be moving here. Got word that they’re going to transform this building into hotel/condos at the end of this year. The bottom ten stories will be hotel. The top thirteen will be condos. This floor will be divided into four condos. The view is first come, first served, of course.”

“So you’re thinking aboutlivinghere.”

Trey gestured for Richard to sit down. “I may be interested in purchasing one of these units. I like this view the best. Of course they’ll build it out with whatever the new owner stipulates as far as fixtures and aesthetics.”

He tossed the salad a couple of times, put some on a salad plate and set it down in front of Richard.

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