Page 50 of Attraction (Mobsters + Billionaires 3)
“You must be Ford’s Mafia don,” the beefiest one says, approaching me with an extended hand.
Ford’s chin drops to his chest. “Miller, I can’t believe you just said that.”
Ford’s mom admonishes him in Thai, and Miller responds in kind, then turns to me and chuckles, taking my hand in a firm, warm grip. “Sorry. Figured I’d get that out of the way. Even with everything going on with Yay, my brother seems happier, and that’s all any of us want.”
His brothers nod in agreement, and his mom’s sweet smile shines out from all of it. Araya Bradley approaches me with her arms flung open.
Moms give the very best hugs.
While she must be in her fifties, she barely looks older than Ford, and by the look of her fashionable outfit, she’s the one who taught this crew how to dress.
Talking to everyone in the crowded space, I explain, “I wanted to check on Ford because the last couple of days have been difficult. I’m happy to hear your grandmother has stabilized and is getting excellent care.” Turning to Ford, I whisper, “I have food coming in from our favorite Italian restaurant, but I’ll call back and increase the order.”
He laughs. “Yeah, multiply it by ten.” Sliding his arm around my waist, he whispers, “I’m glad you came.”
“Me too. Tell me though. With everybody here, has something changed with your grandmother’s situation?”
He shakes his head. “She’s doing fairly well, but we’re coming around to the fact that she needs round-the-clock care, and we’re trying to figure out the best situation. Langley’s got the best set up for Yay and a nurse, and his wife and kids adore her, so now we’re working out a schedule so they don’t get overwhelmed.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, but you know I’m here for you. Don’t let yourself get overwhelmed either, okay?”
“I won’t.”
The rest of the family introduces themselves to me, and we make small talk as I pull up the app and change the order. Ford grabs my hand and walks me to the front door.
“This was very sweet of you. Of course, you know feeding all of us will totally win you brownie points.”
“Mothers love me,” I say, popping my collar. “And your brothers didn’t even try to kill me, so that’s good.”
“I said! They know all about the famous Luca Stefano. They were practically starstruck. I’m a billionaire, yet all anybody wants to know about is my gentleman mobster.”
It was refreshing spending a few minutes with his family. The love and respect they have for each other is obvious. It’s also obvious that they don’t fully understand him, and I wonder how close to the vest he keeps things.
If I’m right, and some guy hurt him, I have to assume his brothers would have made life a living hell for that man.
Hope they don’t mind that it’s my job now.
14
FORD
“See here?By investing long-term here, here, and here,” I say, pointing out the places on the page, “you can help your employees be set up for a comfortable retirement. The markets will do what the markets are going to do, but over time, this should pay out handsomely.”
Mr. Hirsch, a simple man who made his money in plumbing, gapes at the paperwork.
“This is a damn miracle. Some of these people have been working for my family since they were in high school. To be able to take care of them like this? Makes me feel like I’m doing something.”
One of the things I figured out early on was that coming up with the initial investment of capital is everybody’s issue. For me, a couple million here or there doesn’t make a difference. So one of the ways I’ve been juicing my retirement plans for companies is using my capital to get a bigger return. I obviously don’t need the money, so once the return gets big enough, I simply pull my original investment, and they have a self-running retirement plan.
It’s not even a donation. It’s just letting them use my investment capital for a little bit. I have plenty of places where I make money, but working with these smaller companies and setting them up with scalable retirement plans feels pretty damn good.
Dylan helps Mr. Hirsch with the rest of the paperwork and demurs when the kind man offers Dylan his daughter’s number.
“Oh, thank you. But I don’t like being touched,” he explains, wiping down his desk as Mr. Hirsch stands.
“I noticed. Neither does my daughter,” he says, smiling. “But she enjoys body doubling and Netflix murder shows.”
Dylan’s head pops up, and he glances at Mr. Hirsch before looking down again. “Okay. You can give her my email.”
