Page 105 of Strange Seduction
He’ll get the picture when he sees y’all together.
Theo:She’s not a fucking show horse.
Dad:So what’s the point of having
a beautiful girlfriend if you can’t show her off a little?
Trust me, she’ll love it. Women like that kinda thing.
No wonder he likes Vince. He sounds just like him.
Theo:I’d rather cut my own balls off
and deep fry them before I take
relationship advice from you.
What is this, marriage number three for you?
Dad:You ain’t gotta cut them off,
‘cause Carmen’s done it already, motherfucker.
I groaned in annoyance, and he laughed.
Dad:Tell her you want them extra crispy.
I hung up.
I slumped back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
I think I’m starting to hate this place.
Wendell had some fucking nerve to tell me what to do with my relationship and my fucking investment ball. Especially when he lent no hand in developing either.
Back when I took over this company, we were just contractors—build what we’re told, hand over the keys, and move on to the next site. We did good work. We were known for it. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that we were building value we didn’t get to keep, while someone else always walked away with the upside.
So I changed the model.
We stopped waiting for projects to land in our inbox and started creating our own. We bought the land. We designed buildings from scratch. We partnered with architects, navigated zoning, and secured permits before the blueprints even hit a desk. When we first started this new venture, we backed it ourselves. And when our projects started popping up, so did the money.
Now we don’t chase deals. They come to us.
We’ve got investors calling before the permits are even approved, offering to fund full builds just to get in early. What started as a construction company turned into a development group with an investment arm that moves faster than some banks. These days, the problem isn’t funding the projects—it’s narrowing down which ones we say yes to.
We choose what gets built—and who profits from it.
The investment ball?
Again, my idea, and that started out of necessity. We had too many people asking to sit at the table, so we built the damn tableourselves. One night. One room. All our upcoming projects on display.
The investors show up dressed to impress, checks ready. Some deals close before the dessert hits the table.
I’d love to have Carmen by my side; however, she hated the last party I took her to, so maybe she’d prefer to sit this one out.
Everything felt tight. My chest. My jaw. My leash. I had a meeting in fifteen minutes, I hadn’t looked at the plans, and my phone was buzzing again.
I glanced at the screen.
