I continue glaring at the lists of numbers scattered out in front of me, refusing to acknowledge this inconvenient intrusion more than necessary. Walt seems compelled to trample into my office at least twice a day. It’s most likely to check that I haven’t morphed into a demon or something more sinister. “Better be good, kid.”
“Isn’t it always?” That take-no-shit attitude is how he manages to keep his job. Not many can put up with me on a daily basis, regardless of our blood relation. I applaud those willing to try.
“Then spit it out.” I make a forward motion with my hand, still avoiding his presence.
Walt thumps his shiny loafer on the carpet, the rapid beat searing into my skull. I flick my gaze up to his with a sneer. He gives a wide grin in return. If this little shit wasn’t my cousin, he would’ve been fired months ago. Not that I’m willing to overlook incompetence. One misguided step and I’ll easily forget his so-called ability to deal with me.
“Mr. Hughes is on hold. He wants to tell you about a potential deal.”
I scrub over my forehead. “That lawyer in Minnesota?”
His gelled hair catches reflective sunlight, the slick strands gleaming as he nods. “Yes, sir.”
“All right. Put him through.” I shove the reports away while Walt retreats to do my bidding.
Jordan Hughes is a business associate, but I use that term loosely. We’ve only spoken on a handful of occasions similar to this. He catches wind of an appetizing merger or expansion and passes the news along to me—the guy with capital. Usually the deals are decent enough to pique my interest. He hasn’t steered me wrong yet, but it only takes once to change that.
I snag the phone after a single ring. “Winters.”
“It’s actually spring, almost summer.” Hughes’ jovial tone grates on my already fraying nerves.
I don’t bother hiding my grunt. “Did you call to just yammer on about nothing but lame jokes?”
Jordan laughs. “You’re extra jolly this afternoon.”
“And your efforts to improve my mood are in vain.”
“Fine, I’ll cut straight to the point.”
“That’d be much appreciated,” I deadpan.
“The company is Sunny Skies,” he informs with a flourish.
I snort at the name. “You better be fucking with me.”
An impatient exhale greets mine. “Just hear me out. This baby is ripe for the picking. A golden goose ready to lay magical eggs. The one you’ve been—”
“Your theatrics aren’t necessary for the pitch.”
“Such a killjoy,” he mutters. But his voice remains electrified as he continues. “They create high-tech, ultra-efficient solar panels.”
“Aren’t those all the same?” The abandoned charts with reliable data are becoming more interesting with each passing second.
Jordan huffs again. “Who the fuck cares about the specifics? Leave that up to the manufacturers. This game is about earning income and increasing profit. These guys are booming. Their business is making leaps on the daily. If you want in on the ground level, you gotta get in now.”
“I’m listening.” But barely.
“It’s a small warehouse at the moment, but they need more space to grow and spread their wings. That’s where you come in. They want to purchase a bigger property and are searching for investors.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. I see where this is going.” And I do. This is a very familiar conversation that I have multiples times per day. People are constantly coming to me with ideas, foaming at the mouth, waiting for me to bite. I rarely do.
“Worth a conversation?”
“I’d like to hear more about their recent gains and why I should bother.”
“Of course,” he agrees. Then he proceeds to prattle off rather impressive statistics that raise my brows.
“No shit?”
“I wouldn’t cut into your busy schedule with a bogus deal. Sunny Skies could be huge for you.”
“They’re reaching those totals with only one location?”
“Exactly!” His sharp clap rattles my eardrum. “Now you’re getting it. Think of the upside this opportunity could have. This is exactly why I’m delivering the news to you.”
I squint at the ceiling, making a few calculations. “Perhaps I’d be willing to acquire real estate in Minneapolis.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he whoops. I picture him pumping the air in victory. Jordan isn’t afraid to gloat, whether there’s a real reason or not.
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I point out.
“Doesn’t matter. The fact you haven’t hung up yet is more than good enough. My proverbial foot is propping your door open.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What a delightful visual.”
“So,” Jordan drawls. “Can I count on you making a visit soon?”
“You’ll handle the initial contact?”
“Absolutely.” There’s no doubting his eagerness.
“I’m booked solid through next year, so don’t expect my undivided attention.”
Jordan chuckles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’ll text you when my plane lands.” That’s all the confirmation he gets before I put an abrupt—albeit customary—end to our conversation with a resounding click.
The fact I’m even considering this deal bounces off countless meetings and appointments that loom in the foreseeable future. I have no room in my calendar for an impulsive detour. But it won’t kill me to leave home base for a week.
I’m often on the road, and never stationary for long. Handling deals in person is my preferred method of confirming partnerships and agreeing on investments. I believe a handshake is still the richest currency for sealing a contract. Staring a man in the eyes and watching for signs of deceit is my specialty. That’s how I found myself signing multi-million-dollar mergers by the age of twenty-four. Five years later and my title is surpassing billionaire status.
My father trained me well, but I outgrew those flimsy molds before graduating from college. A narrow lane in financial consulting didn’t hold my interest. Why settle for less, when the potential for more was waiting at my fingertips? The old man wore bitterness as a second skin when I refused to be corralled as his successor. My younger brother willingly took my place and appears rather satisfied with his mundane career. If only our dad could see what we’ve accomplished in his absence. As if that would somehow appease him.
Severing his influence that dictated my choices allowed me to prosper. Adding my seeds to another company’s pot is how I continue to expand my empire. The potential of a fresh deal gets my blood pumping faster. There’s something to be said about the rich being overly enthusiastic to get richer. Greed isn’t bad, unless it rules over principle. That’s not my problem. I press the direct line to Walt.
He answers within seconds. “Yes, Mr. Winters?”
“Get the jet secured for a flight to Minneapolis. I need to be there by tomorrow.”
The typing from his keyboard clicks down the line. “Anything else?”
“Ground transportation.”