Сергей Редькин – Hide-and-Seek (страница 9)
He had been our family’s lawyer for over forty years. In fact, my grandfather had hired him to handle some paperwork back when he was still a law school student. Even after establishing his own firm, Goldberg and Associates—a respected name in the City—he continued to personally handle our affairs.
I asked him to join me for the meeting with Jared’s team. Having him by my side to catch any slips of the tongue gave me peace of mind.
“Let’s do everything right this time,” Mr. Goldberg said, reminding me of some of my decisions in the past that had been made in a hurry.
I had to let my parents know. They had never been too worried about money for the greater part of their lives. My father didn’t show much concern for it outwardly because, as he explained once, he was “an old-fashioned gentleman and it was vulgar to talk about it.” That, however, didn’t mean that he was a reckless spender. On the contrary, he was trying his best to preserve what had been left to him. He also had other investments in different parts of the country and often travelled to meet with his business partners when I was young. His business activities and the financial returns on his investments had significantly subsided over the years after Charlie’s disappearance because he had been neglecting the business side and focusing more on supporting my mother and, probably, inwardly, dealing with it himself.
Recently, despite the lack of a proven track of success on my side, he started to give
I called them the next day. My father didn’t feel well, and I spoke to my mother. She tried to sound happy, but I could sense a bit of acting in her voice. She didn’t want to do anything with the house after Charlie had vanished. As far as she was concerned, I could sell the lot. I felt a bit disappointed that my idea hadn’t impressed her much, but I didn’t dwell on that too long because some good money was to be made, which was the most important thing, and my mother had never been interested in finances anyway. I was sure it would work this time.
Later that day, I had plans to spend time with Natasha and Christopher. Back in university, the ever-reliable Christopher had proven himself to be an excellent drinking companion and an expert in dealing with hangovers—two qualities I still greatly valued. Unlike James Harding, Christopher was a neat gentleman—trustworthy and a real pleasure to get drunk with. I hadn’t mentioned the deal to either of them. These were people who didn’t wear their hearts on their sleeves, and I had always been one of them.
Natasha had arranged for us to attend a charity event, announcing it during dinner at a French bistro.
“There’ll be plenty of people looking for opportunities to invest their money,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone useful.”
“And whom will we be giving our money to this time, darling?” Christopher asked, sipping his Old Fashioned. He enjoyed charity events, not only as a way to “give back,” but also because they were “great places to meet smart and educated people.” Unlike me, he loved engaging in meaningful conversations and learning new things.
“I’ll need to check my schedule,” I said, raising my index finger to preempt any sarcastic comments. “I mean it this time.” I turned to Natasha. “When is this wonderful event of yours happening?”
She finished her Champagne cocktail before answering. “Tomorrow.” This time, it was her turn to raise a finger. “I know it’s short notice but do try to make it. I promise you won’t regret it.” She raised her eyebrows with a smile. “There’ll be an open bar.”
***
The next day, Christopher and I presented ourselves at the venue, properly dressed and groomed. Since it was a black-tie event, I chose my deep double-breasted Tom Ford tuxedo with wide lapels and a custom-made white dress shirt from Charvet—a luxury investment in a masterpiece of shirt-making, appreciated by the likes of Sir Winston Churchill and Napoleon Bonaparte long before me. I was pleased to see that Christopher looked dashing, like a movie star, in his tux from Henry Poole & Co., which slimmed his torso and broadened his shoulders.
Just as we were about to compliment each other on our sartorial choices, Natasha appeared in a spectacular black maxi dress with an open-back detail and an asymmetric neckline. I couldn’t identify the brand of the dress, but it didn’t matter—she was stunning. Her diamond chandelier earrings added a sparkling touch to her striking look.
“Glad you both could make it,” she said after completing her obligatory red-carpet photo session. She pecked us on the cheeks. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
“May we just take a moment to compliment you before we start networking?” I said, kissing her hand. “You look amazing.” I turned to Christopher. “Doesn’t she?”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, taking his turn to kiss Natasha’s hand.
“Thank you,” she replied, glancing at someone behind us. “Oh, that’s the gentleman I’d like you to meet.”
We turned.
“He’s a billionaire from the States who moved to the City a few months ago,” Natasha explained. “His name is—”
“Jared Shannon,” I finished.
“You know him then?” Natasha’s disappointment at my ruining her surprise was evident as she pursed her lips.
“How do
“Oh, we met at an event a few weeks ago. You know, I meet this kind of people to—oh, hello, Jared.” She opened her arms for a hug and greeted the man in a fine tuxedo—the man I hoped would be my way out of impending financial disaster. The fact that they were already on a first-name basis felt a tad unsettling.
“May I introduce my friends to you?” Natasha said after finally releasing Jared from her hospitable, if slightly clingy, embrace.
“I think I know at least one of them,” Jared said, extending his hand for a handshake. “How are you, Alex?”
I shook his hand. “Fine, thank you.” I gestured toward Christopher. “This is my friend, Christopher Deven.”
“It’s
“Christopher’s fine,” Christopher said, saving me from the faux pas. He shook Jared’s hand with a smile.
“How are you doing, Christopher?” Jared asked before turning to Natasha. “I didn’t know you’d be bringing guests tonight.”
“These two needed a bit of fresh air,” Natasha said.
We all laughed politely—the kind of laugh people give when they have nothing meaningful to say.
“I’ll just escort my friends to the table,” Natasha said, taking Christopher and me by the hands. “We’ll see you later at the after-party, won’t we?”
“There’s an after-party after this?” Jared asked, laughing.
“There always is,” Natasha replied with a smile.
“Enjoy the event,” Jared said. “I don’t think I’ll be joining the party.”
He nodded at us with a smile before walking toward a group of young people who greeted him excitedly. I was relieved he hadn’t mentioned our little deal; I wasn’t ready to make it public just yet.
“You seem to know him quite well,” I said as we reached our table. I pulled out Natasha’s chair for her.
“It pays well to know people like Jared Shannon,” she said, opening the menu. “Let’s see what we’ll be paying for tonight.”
“Speaking of which, what is this charity for anyway?” Christopher asked as he took his seat.
“And where’s that open bar?” I added, looking around for the more pressing matter.
The event went well. We left a couple of hours later, having taken full advantage of the open bar while donating some money to…well, I couldn’t even remember what the charity was for by the time we got to the after-party. One thing, however, stuck in my mind: I didn’t particularly like the way Jared looked at Natasha. But I couldn’t blame him for being smitten by her beauty either.
***
A week later, Mr. Goldberg and I were in a big meeting room with Jared’s team in charge, getting ready to iron out any wrinkles in the deal if necessary. This was when a young lady walked in and announced the new offer their boss was ready to put on the table. She put it quite succinctly and yet extremely comprehensively: Jared would double his investment in the project, giving me more funds to make my small cottage community even better and thus attract more clients down the line, if we made one more deal—sell the house. He wanted Maple Grove House. His team had done the necessary assessment of the house’s condition when they were on the property checking the future construction site last week. The sum he was offering was very generous, and he was eager to close the deal as soon as possible.
“What does he want the house for?” Mr. Goldberg asked me when we were out on the street.
“You heard her: ‘Mr. Shannon would like to give back to the community he was once a part of by restoring the house to its former glory and converting it into a cultural space for educational purposes.’”