Page 68 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
Alex smiled at Frank’s booming jollity, a very effective disguise for one of the shrewdest business brains he’d ever come across. “The game’s in play, but I’m not sure if it’s chess or checkers.”
“Oh? Hit me with it.”
“I agreed a price for the hotel with Stretton. Now he’s come back to me claiming there’s another bidder in the game.”
“Genuine?”
“Possibly not. I’ve no way of knowing.”
“Uh-huh. What you gonna do?”
“I can up my offer, but how many times is he going to walk me round the mulberry bush?”
Frank took a pause. Alex could just see the way his white eyebrows would be moving together as he furrowed his brow. “How much do you want the place?”
Alex sighed. “I want it.”
“You’re being sentimental. Sentiment has no place in business.”
“If it wasn’t for sentiment, I wouldn’t be bidding.”
“Okay.” Frank spared a laugh. He understood — he’d been in the navy, and Alex knew that he made a point of giving jobs on his construction sites to veterans. “Remember the frog?”
“What?”
“You drop a frog in cold water and boil it up slow, frog don’t move. Chuck the critter in a pan of boiling water and it leaps right out.”
“That sounds cruel,” Alex responded with a note of dry humour.
Frank chuckled. “I don’t think it’s real. But it’s the principle. You drop this Stretton guy in the boiling water.”
“I’d like to, but I don’t think it’s legal.”
Another dry chuckle. “Okay, here’s the thing. You let the guy play you off against this other bidder, real or not, and up creeps the price. Or you slap him with your best offer, take it or leave it, but sign the contract now.”
Alex drew a breath in between his teeth. “Bit of a gamble.”
“Sure is. But whoever this other guy is, I’d be willing to bet he ain’t gonna want it like you do. No sentiment, so he’ll be sensible about it. Besides, if he’s just wanting it for the site, he’s only going to offer what the land’s worth — probably less the cost of demolition. So, if you’re offering him better than that, he’s gonna deal.”
Alex laughed. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
He ended the call, stuck the phone back in his pocket, and strolled off up the hill to his grandfather’s house.
Frank’s advice was sound. After all, he had made himself one of the most successful real-estate developers in the Toronto Metro area. And had made Alex himself a comfortable eight-figure bank balance in the process.
But as he had said, it was a gamble. He’d take a little while to think about it.
* * *
The lad Alex had hired to tidy up his grandfather’s garden was hard at work digging up weeds from round the rose bushes.He greeted him with a casual salute and let himself into the house.
Arthur was watching a quiz programme on the television, but he looked up with a toothless grin when Alex walked in. “Ah, there you are. I was hoping you’d come. My new scooter’s come, and it should be all charged up by now. I’m going to take it out for a ride.”
Alex rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been sure that the mobility scooter was a good idea, but Arthur had found an advertisement for them in the local paper, and insisted Alex take him along to the shop to try one out. Well, that was it — he was going to have one.
“Okay, Grandpa. Where are we going?”
“All round the town. You’ll have to walk fast to keep up with me.”
