He’s taken us to a business office that occupies three floors on one side of the shopping center, and it’s a nice space. It’s big enough for everything I need and then some. The offices here would be large with nice views, and the building itself is upscale compared to most strip malls. Each unit looks more like a luxury apartment than just another store.
I can even see myself putting in some apartment buildings in the back parking lot, which really isn’t needed, especially if I also put in a parking garage. If I did that, I could have my own apartment near my offices, and I wouldn’t have to live and work in the club.
The price is also very good considering how volatile the market is right now. “Why is it so cheap?” I ask Henry.
He gives me a professional realtor laugh and says, “Not cheap. Inexpensive.”
I chuckle under my breath. “Right. So why is it so inexpensive?”
“Because the owners are very motivated to sell. They’re moving to Dallas. They’re liquidating all of their properties in California.” He smiles at me, and I can’t help but shake my head.
Is everyone in California moving to Texas? If so, that just means more cheap properties for me with perfect ocean views. “All right,” I say. “Let us talk about it, and we’ll get back to you.”
“I wouldn’t wait too long,” the realtor says. “This one will be gone in days if not hours.”
I nod and smile, aware of the market. We step aside, and I ask her, “What do you think?”
Leah is always more practical than I am. She taps her lip with a pen as she thinks. “It’s a nice location. It’s big enough for what you want. The office space is great. It’s also not too far from the club, so when you have to go over there, and we both know that will probably be every day, you can come back here easily enough.”
“Do you think I could add some luxury apartments over there?” I ask, pointing to the location where I was envisioning a high rise.
“I don’t see why not. I already checked the zoning laws around here, and it’s legal. You’ve got the money.” She shrugs, and I bet it’s killing her not to add that I would have more money if I’d sold Silver Towers for more than a dollar—or if I hadn’t sold them at all—but she doesn’t say that.
I’d have more money if Jonathan hadn’t robbed me, too…
Returning my attention to Henry, I say, “All right. Put in the offer at full asking price, fifteen-day close, cash.”
His eyebrows raise. “Cash?” he repeats.
Shaking my head at him, I say, “How long have you been my realtor? Yes, cash.”
An excited chuckle escapes his lips as he says, “Yes, sir, Mr. Stone. I’ll draw the papers up right away and get them over to the listing agent.”
“Good. Call me back when we have a deal,” I tell him, and he knows that means he doesn’t get to fail at this. Oak Ridge Crossing is mine.
The next day, Tuesday, we sign the paperwork, and we are set to close in just two weeks, which gives me time to move some money around and also to get some inspections done on the place. Just in case. I’m in a good mood for a change. In fact, that night, as the club opens, I can’t help but smile and pat everyone on the back.
“What’s wrong with you?” Carter asks as I compliment his hair. “Did aliens come down and steal the real Hunter? Are you Martian Hunter?”
I laugh. “No, I’m just really happy today. Aren’t I allowed to be happy?”
“Sure, you’re allowed to be,” Carter says. “But that’s never stopped you from being a grump before.”
I chuckle again as I walk away, asking Brandon how his sandwich is and telling Omar to cheer up. And they call me a grump—does that man ever smile?
We have some pretty important clients come in, and I’m over visiting with them, laughing to the jokes of a stand-up comic, when I see a glint of blonde of the corner of my eye.
My attention leaves the comedian completely as I turn to see Meg gliding across the club with a tray in her hands. Her smile is absolutely gorgeous, and her body is smokin’ in a red top that hugs her in all of the right places, and a silver skirt that glitters in the neon lights. But it’s her hair that really catches my attention. It’s cut a little differently—and it’s blonde.
She looks fantastic, and I know that my mouth is hanging open as I stare at her. I might even be drooling.
“Hey, Hunter,” Ralph the comic, says, “you need a bib or a mop for all that salivating you’ve got going on? You look like a newborn staring at his mama’s tits!”
Everyone in the group laughs, and I immediately close my mouth. “Oh, uh, sorry. I think that’s… Jenny Lewis over there,” I say, referring to a famous movie star.
“Oh, I thought you were staring at that gorgeous waitress,” one of Ralph’s friends says. “Now, that girl is hot enough to make Jenny Lewis look like… a Muppet.”
They all laugh, and I have to wonder if all of Ralph’s friends are comedians, too, or if they just think they are.