Page 36 of The Plus One Contract

Julian chimes in, “We could take the easy route—buy land, sell to the highest bidder, and walk away—but that’s not our business model. We build from the ground up, reinvesting in communities.”

Crane crosses his arms. “And that’s what makes you different?”

“Yes,” I say.

A subtle shift in Crane’s posture tells me he’s listening because I’m not just here to win him over. I’m here to make him realize he needs us more than we need him.

Crane studies us, silence wielded like a weapon, a test of our resolve.

Julian and I remain still until Crane finally exhales, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’ll give you this,” he says in a low, measured tone, “you’re not like the others.”

Julian smirks. “That’s the whole point.”

Crane’s eyes narrow. “I still have concerns.”

I nod. “We’re prepared to address them.”

A flicker of interest dances in Crane’s eyes as he leans back. “Alright, let’s hear them.”

One of his advisors—a silver-haired relic of old money—clears his throat. “Our main hesitation is scalability. Your model is unorthodox.”

I fight the urge to smirk. “We’ve built an entire portfolio of successful turnarounds using this model. Blackwood & Calloway Holdings isn’t a lucky start-up. We have the numbers, the case studies, and a proven track record.”

A bearded advisor interjects, “Yet you’re still small compared to the firms we typically back.”

Julian spreads his hands, grinning. “Wouldn’t that make us more attractive? Less bureaucracy, faster execution, and higher returns? We don’t answer to a boardroom full of entitled heirs.”

Crane drums his fingers thoughtfully. “So, you’re telling me that instead of demolishing neighborhoods, you’d rather patch them up?”

I shake my head. “No. We acquire existing businesses and properties, work with local communities, and keep the profit cycle local instead of funneling it to outside developers.”

Crane exhales sharply. “And what’s the upside for my team?”

I lean in, steady and unflinching. “Higher long-term returns. It’s not a quick flip but sustained revenue. We’re not cutting and running. We’re building something that lasts.”

Something shifts in Crane’s gaze. He’s recalibrating. We didn’t inherit empires; we built ours from nothing. Men like Crane don’t trust that at first, but they respect results.

I already know he’s not going to agree to anything today, so I push back my chair and stand, extending my hand. Crane watches for a beat, then slowly stands and takes it, his grip firm and lingering just a fraction too long.

“My wife,” he says evenly, “will be eager to meet you at the fundraiser Thursday night.”

My expression remains neutral, but inside, I’m already calculating. Julian was right. Crane’s wife is the real power behind the throne. If I want this deal, I have to win her over too.

Crane releases my hand, his tone casual yet loaded. “Her opinion is important to me.” In other words: don’t fuck this up.

“Of course,” I say smoothly. “I look forward to meeting her.”

Crane nods, and then his gaze sharpens. “And will you be attending alone?”

I don’t let my hesitation show. I feel Julian’s eyes on me, and for a split second, I recall Sienna’s daring expression when I told her father I’d show up for dinner tonight. It’s just one more risk I’m willing to take.

I meet Crane’s gaze. “No. My girlfriend will be with me.”

A beat of silence follows. Julian doesn’t react outwardly, but I sense the shift in energy beside me.

Crane holds my gaze a moment longer, then nods, pleased. “Good. I’ll see you both there.”

With that, he turns, shaking Julian’s hand before striding toward the door, his team trailing behind him.

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