Page 27 of Georgia On My Mind (Southern Promises)

Sitting tall with his briefcase perched on his lap, Hart waited patiently in the lobby area of a massive office building in downtown Atlanta. He had finally secured a job interview with one of the top real estate firms in the country after months of emails and networking events. As always, he had thoroughly done his homework, researching the man at the helm of the firm, Stephen Kaufman. He was a native Atlanta man himself and a fellow graduate of the University of Georgia. What thrilled him the most was knowing Mr. Kaufman’s wife, Jessica Southers graduated in the same high school class with his sister, Katie, ten years ago. Perhaps, they had known each other. This was a good sign.

“Mr. Kaufman will see you now.” The polite receptionist escorted him to the large wooden doors that opened up to a narrow hallway. “It’s the last door on the left.”

“Thank you.” Hart straightened his tie and strode confidently down the pristine hall. There was no way he was going to fuck this up. He firmly knocked on the door and heard a booming baritone voice telling him to come in. A tall, distinguished-looking man with salt and pepper hair greeted him.

“Hartford Parker.”

“Mr. Kaufman. It’s a pleasure.” The two men shook hands.

“The pleasure is mine. And please, call me Stephen.” He motioned with his hand to an empty wingback chair near a wall of windows overlooking the Atlanta skyline. “Hartford. Cool name. Can I call you Hart?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great! I’ve been looking at your portfolio for quite some time. You come highly recommended by several of our colleagues in the business. I’m surprised you haven’t been snatched up since you’ve been back from…where was it? Washington?” Stephen sat behind a large desk thumbing through a folder. The entire office space was immaculate.

“Yes, sir. DC. I’ve been back for almost six months.”

“Why the long hiatus? Biding your time for the best offer?”

Hart shifted uncomfortably in the stiff chair. Mr. Kaufman had to have heard about his indiscretion. Not sure how to approach the subject he replied, “I guess you could say that.”

Stephen laughed before looking at him knowingly. “Yeah, I know all about what happened in DC.”

“You do?”

“Of course. I have to say it was pretty incredible what you tried to pull off behind closed doors in the executive office. And at a party, no less.” His smile was almost a sneer.

Hart’s stomach dropped to his knees. How dare this big shot Atlanta broker taunt him. Did he think he was better than him? His face flushed with embarrassment as he stood to leave. “I’m sorry for wasting your time—”

Stephen interrupted him. “No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. Sit. Please.”

Hart looked at him with narrow eyes, not sure if he should sit or run.

“Please.” The tone of his voice was insistent.

He slowly slunk down into the chair, his confidence already out the door.

“You know my wife, Jessica and your sister graduated in the same class in high school. What are the chances of that?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Jess remembers you well. You were a couple of years ahead of them, but you certainly made an impression on her. She remembers you being a very popular, strong athlete.”

Hart sighed. “I don’t know about that. I played football and had some good friends. Nothing out of the ordinary for high school.”

Stephen nodded. “Yeah, I know your type. You’re a good-looking, successful guy, Hart. I’ll bet you’ve had more than one beautiful girl tempt you during your career. I look at it as a positive attribute. Let’s just say, I’ve had my fair share as well if you know what I mean.” His eyebrow raised significantly. “We’re a lot alike, you and me.”

They were suddenly interrupted by a cell phone ringing. Stephen looked down before abruptly getting up. “Sorry, Hart. I gotta take this call from the West Coast. I’ll only be a minute.” He excused himself and stepped into the hall.

Hart wasn’t sure if he liked where their conversation was headed and was thankful for the reprieve. His buddy, Mitch Montgomery, had warned him that Stephen Kaufman was a very successful but shrewd businessman. He obviously didn’t know the dude was a hound dog as well. Standing, he did his best to feign disinterest in the call and noticed several industry awards adorning the rich mahogany bookcases. Each faceted trophy seemed perfectly positioned to cast prisms of light, drawing the eyes of visitors, flaunting the success of the firm. He also saw a family portrait of Stephen with his beautiful wife, Jessica and their four, tiny, blonde-headed daughters all dressed in matching pink outfits. They looked like the perfect all-American family. His stomach turned, knowing the guy had probably cheated on his wife and kids with the way he had been talking earlier. He wasn’t like this guy. Not anymore.

Stephen came back in, startling Hart. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

For the next thirty minutes, the two men talked about the current Atlanta real estate market, Stephen steering clear from their earlier conversation about what happened in DC. The focus was on the impressive multi-million-dollar portfolio Hart had secured for his last firm and what he might be able to bring to the table. The man was more than knowledgeable, and Hart hated to admit, he was impressed. To work for Kaufman and Associates would be a big step back into the corporate world of real-estate, even if the guy was a cheater. In a bold move that surprised even himself, he readily accepted a lucrative offer right there on the spot, thoughts of their earlier conversation about indiscretions tucked away in the back of his mind.

“Thanks so much Stephen. I won’t let you down.” He vigorously shook his hand, relieved that he was finally back in business.

“Happy to have you onboard, Hart. I have a good feeling about you. You’re going to be a great asset to our team. We’ll get your office set up the first of next week. Welcome to Kaufman and Associates.”

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