“It’s a solid proposal, and we’re a known entity, not some new kids out of Seattle.” I’m not usually the diplomat, but I’m ready to expand, and these guys have the money we need to make it happen now, before someone beats us to the market.
They’re also not asking for a massive cut—just fifteen percent of the profits and no control or oversight.
He gives me a tight grin. “They’re here because of your dad.”
The comment makes my skin bristle.
Dad was like Taron, diplomatic, the calm to my storm, but I brought this firm into the twenty-first century. I’m the man behind the curtain holding the whip.
The screen flickers to life and a split image of Remington Key on one side and Stephen Hastings on the other appears.
“Morning, Patton, Taron. Hot enough for you?” Remi is smiling and friendly, relaxed, not wearing a blazer.
“Just Nashville in the summer.” Taron smiles, laying on the charm. “We’re all feeling it, from what I hear.”
Remi’s located in South Carolina, while Stephen is in New York.
“Speaking of hot, have you seen the new Scan Eagle they’re testing down in Key West?” Remi clicks on a laptop to his left, and a drone that looks like an aluminum paper airplane appears on the screen.
“I did.” Taron leans forward, and they’re like two kids sharing matchbox cars. “They’re using them to stop drug smugglers from what I heard.”
“They’re using them for whatever they want.” Remi laughs. “You should see one of these things take off—”
“Gentlemen.” Stephen is not smiling, and his tweed coat is in place. “I’m sure we’re all busy.”
Taron leans back, and Remi shuts the laptop. So much for small talk. I don’t mind—it’s not my strong suit anyway.
Stephen takes over. “I’ve reviewed your proposal. I like what I’m seeing here.”
I allow myself to relax slightly. I’m not smiling, but I’m encouraged by his opening.
Matching his tone, I slip in a brag. “We’re poised to be the leader in this field. Fletcher International will be synonymous with short-term commercial rentals, like Xerox is to copiers.”
“It sure looks like it. Way to get ahead of the game, guys.” Remi rocks back in his chair, tossing a baseball-style stress ball. “I’m surprised nobody thought of this before.”
“I started building this line when I took over as CEO.” My jacket is in place, my forearms are on the table, and I’m watching Hastings, whose eyes are on the sheets in front of him. “Our global client base has grown exponentially. Now we’re ready to expand our offerings, and we want to offer only the best.”
Stephen’s brow lowers. “You only have one client in the UAE.”
Taron leans forward. “It’s part of the reason we need to expand. Countries like Dubai and Abu Dhabi are looking for spaces in LA and New York. Once we have more properties on the books, they’ll come pouring in. We find it, they come.”
He ends on a positive note, but silence fills the room, broken only by the noise of papers being flipped back and forth.
“You’ve come pretty far pretty fast…” Stephen’s sentence hangs, like a noose ready to tighten around my neck. “But you’re not there yet.”
The air seems to leave the room. My throat is tight, and anger is rising. “Ex
cuse me?”
Hastings closes the folder and tosses it forward on his desk. “You need more big-ticket renters. Otherwise, we launch, and the US and European clients bypass us. They can do it themselves. Show me why they need this.”
My lips press together. I’m not about to beg this guy.
Taron isn’t ready to give up. “You’re wrong.” He stands too quickly, and I see him wince. He covers it. “We’re already a concierge service. They don’t want to bother with the real estate culture here, the security needs, the logistics. We have the experience and the contacts to make it seamless, and we offer only the best properties with top-notch security.”
“I want to see bigger fish. Come back when you have them.” Stephen’s tone is final.
My eyes go to Remi, and he’s all Poker face. I don’t have time for this shit.