Page 68 of The Arrangement

A humph echoed on the other line. "I need you here by this afternoon. One-thirty sharp. I have an important business opportunity, and I will be having lunch at the Saturn. Wear a suit."

The line silenced as he hung up, my grandfather's words still hanging in the air as I looked at my watch. It was 10:30. I would need to leave now to be there and ready by 1:30.

Most of me was annoyed by the way the old man had ordered me home like a petulant child, while the other part of me thanked my lucky stars. I had an excuse I didn't need to lie about. So I straightenedmy collar and packed my toiletry bag, rolling my used towels into the corner for housekeeping.

The cold air hit me like a freight train as I opened the door to our shared room and I swallowed hard as I saw Georgia wiping off her makeup with a wipe in the vanity mirror. God, she was fucking gorgeous. Her hair still tousled with sleep and the way my fingers had raked through them, her lips still bruised from the passion of our kiss just a few hours earlier.

Georgia paused, her mouth opening and no sound coming out, but I could tell the way her eyes had glazed slightly with nervousness and guilt that I wouldn't like the words she uttered regardless.But she swallowed and with a soft smile whispered, “Seb?—”

I didn't give her a chance to say anything else. I didn’t need some half cock apologies or that it was “her not me” bullshit.

"I have to go, work called and I'm needed back in the city." Grabbing my bag off of one of the chairs, I slung it over my shoulder. "Don't worry about last night; it's not something we need to talk about."

Her spine stiffened at my words. "Sebastian, I just need?—”

My hand lifted, cutting off her words. "You've said enough, Clark, no reason to get emotional. It was just sex." I tossed down my hotel key card. "See you around."

I was out of the door before I took a breath. If I smelled the mix of sex and her perfume in the air, there would have been no way I could leave her without saying something I would regret.

Her eyes said everything to me. It would be better for everyone if I just left. A quick text to Fletcher conveying my regret to Sarah and I was gone.

I might have disassociatedthe entire drive back to the city as the road stretched on for miles until I was pulling up to my apartment. It took me just a few minutes to throw on a suit and fix the cufflinks, my mind empty of anything and everything.

As I walked through the bedroom, my foot caught on one of my tripods, the camera waving precariously as I caught it on reflex. It sat in my hands, the cold metal and heavy weight of it familiar in my grip as my heart began to race. It was a burst of emotions, the same emotions I had kept bottled up for the past twenty years that welled up in my chest all at once, a wave crashed over me and the demon took hold as I took the tripod like a bat and swung it with all my might against the exposed brick wall.

Pieces of electronics, metal, and brick shrapnel rained over me as my muscles burned with the force of my repeated swings. By the time my sanity kicked in, my hands were shaking with adrenaline, and my eyes were burning with unshed tears; the completely busted camera barely held on to the tripod by a silver screw.

My chest was heaving as I dropped the tripod and allowed it to clatter across the floor; my shoes crunched over its remains as I slammed my bedroom door, wiping what I told myself was sweat off of my face as I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

The cold outside cleared my head, and by the time I made it to the restaurant, the shaking in my hands was barely noticeable.

"Ah, there he is!" I heard my booming grandfather's voice as I entered The Saturn; the sleek black and white marble of the place showed, even though it was nestled between an old bank and parking lot, the long hallway to enter it dimly lit by uplighting, leading the way to the large dining area.

Pasting on a tight smile, I shook my grandfather's hand and turned to his business associate, a salt and peppered man with skin that looked like it had barely seen the sun.

“James Erkharst of Erkharst Earnings Group," he said, grasping my hand in a tight hold. I squeezed back just as hard, not at all intimidated by his obvious power trip. "Your grandfather has told me a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope," I replied, going along with every textbook nicety as we sat, even as my senses heightened. Sure, I was in one of the fanciest, most expensive restaurants in the city, but I might have well been in the Den of Lions because that was what these peoplewere—predators, picking off the working class until there was nothing bones. Yelling about how they picked themselves up from nothing as they stepped over the broken backs of their laborers.

I knew that because that was my grandfather and his friends. And this man? From the watch sitting on his wrist, which cost what the American household usually made in a year, to the stupid haircut that I swore only the rich would flaunt. Money couldn't buy taste…or a hairline.

"So, tell me about Erkharst Earnings,” I asked politely, nodding my thanks to the waiter as he poured water into my glass. James leaned forward with a smile on his face and said, "We have heard great things about some of the real estate in the area. Your grandfather is a member of the same country club, so I obviously knew of his reputation. While most of the deal has been settled out of office, your grandfather told me how eager you are to make a name for yourself in the real estate industry. I've seen how you've handled your smaller accounts, and I'm impressed."

I shot a look to my grandfather as he chewed his salad, his eyes darting between me and Erkharst. "I want you to take this account, Sebastian; you're ready." The older man handed me a leather portfolio, and as I flipped it open my mouth dried as I looked at more zeros than I could have imagined on a commercial real estate contract. Looking, I saw my grandfather smiling behind his whiskey glass while James folded his hand and watched me with vested interest as I flipped through the paperwork.

"This is a large account," I muttered, trying to calm my racing heart. "How many buildings are you looking to buy?"

"Technically, it's a strip—six business fronts all together."

My eyebrows knit together as I turned to the map, taking in the highlighted areas. "I'm assuming you know what you want here—" I paused, my eyes scanning over the map, blinking twice to make sure I was seeing what I was seeing.

James smiled, his teeth unnervingly white. "Yes, I'm planning on developing it. I have many interested parties.

Ignoring the man, I turned to my grandfather. "You own thisbuilding already; you have businesses here that have been tenants for well over twenty years."

My grandfather waved his hand in dismissal. "It was the first commercial building I purchased; I am not sentimental when it comes to an increase in profitability." He pointed at James with a grin. "Mr. Erkharst here is very ambitious, and this neighborhood is up and coming. There have been so many hedge-fund puppets sniffing around those residential areas that it’s better if I sell now. Besides, I already leveed a rent increase a few months ago."

My blood ran cold as reality sunk in. There was no way those businesses were affording such an increase; I got the 1099's and looked over their profit and loss statements. They were barely treading water as it was.

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