Chasing Vivi(26)

     



 

"Gee, I wonder who sent you that," Eric says, joking.

Opening the card that accompanies it, a flush heats my face as I read it.

"My, oh my. Must be something sexy," Eric says.

"Uh, a little."

"What happened to ‘we're going to be friends'?"

"He acknowledges that in here."

"Please share," he begs.

Holding the note to my chest, I say, "I can't." Then I inspect my little  gifts. Prescott's sense of humor is contagious and I laugh out loud.

"You can't do this to me."

"Okay. I told him not to stalk me after work, because it creeped me out.  So he asked if I'd share my work schedule. I said it would cost him a  piece of chocolate."

"That's not even funny."

"Yes, it is."

Pulling out my phone, I text Prescott the following:



The Meeting Place, Friday, 7 to 1:30 a.m. Thx :)



Eric stares at me. Then he says, "Wanna make a bet?"

"What kind?"

"Do you or don't you?"

"Depends on how much."

"Five bucks," he says.

"Okie dokes."

"You're going to fuck his balls off within a month."





Chapter 16





Prescott





Grand was right. The chocolates were a score. I was a little worried the  strawberry and note went too far, but when I got her text, everything  was cool.

Yeah, the note must've scored some points. I hesitated a few times on it.



Vivi,

We said friends and I promise it'll be that. You wanted a piece of  chocolate in return for your schedule, so here you go. But dammit, I had  to get you the strawberry too. Do you want to know why? Of course you  do. And don't say I'm breaking my promise because I'm not. This is only  Prescott paying Vivi the sincerest compliment.

I bought the strawberry because when I saw them all lined up in a row,  they reminded me of your lips-perfectly shaped, red, plump, and the  sweetest things I've ever tasted in my life.

So now you know. And you'll also know that as long as I live, whenever I see strawberries, I'll always think of you.

Your dear friend,

Prescott Whitworth Beckham



How the hell did I become such a romantic? I have no idea, but I admit  the note was genuine and I sent it in the hopes she wouldn't run away  screaming like her ass was on fire. She didn't.

I'm going to listen to Grand from now on.

Next, flowers, or dinner or something similar-but I won't overwhelm her now. Baby steps, Beckham. Baby steps.

This shit is hard. It's not in my nature to do things this way, but this  fucking horse is going to learn to do pony tricks if it kills him.

When I get to work, Lynn is waiting on me.

"Hey, Lynn, I hope you had a nice weekend."

"I did. Have you forgotten your meeting this morning?"

"No, I haven't. I'm prepared. I had a productive weekend."

"Well, this is a change." She hands me a bottle of water and a coffee. I smile my thanks.

"You have thirty minutes."

"Thank you."

We're making an offer on a piece of property in lower Manhattan that my  grandfather and I think would be a great turnaround for a hotel. When I  enter the conference room, I'm the first one there. Soon, Granddad joins  me, and then later Dad follows. He glowers when he sees me.

"Hey," I say.

He nods slightly but offers no other greeting.

The agents for the sellers of the building arrive, along with the  owners, and Lynn comes in to provide coffee and refreshments. When  everyone is comfortable and we exchange greetings, the meeting begins.  Everything is running smoothly. The owners are happy with the fair price  we've offered. We're about to get signatures on paper, when Dad decides  to fuck it up.

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with this price. I think it's too high,  Prescott. I don't think you are capable of handling this transaction."

"Excuse me?" I say. This is so completely wrong. You don't conduct business like this with customers sitting here.

"You heard me."

"Jeff," Granddad says. "What is this? We've done the comps and you've had the figures for over a week."

"I did some research of my own," Dad says.

Our clients watch this unprofessional display progress until I finally  say to them, "Excuse us all a minute. We need to discuss this outside."

"No, we don't. We can talk right here," Dad says.

"Jeff," Granddad says, his tone menacing. "Enough already."

"The price is too generous. I don't think we should go forward with this."         

     



 

Granddad leans forward. "You're forgetting something. You're not in a  position to make that decision and your approval isn't necessary or  required in order for this transaction to go through. If you can't stop  interrupting us, I will ask you to leave this room." Then he looks at  the clients, who are clearly uncomfortable by this exchange, and says,  "I apologize for my son-in-law's lack of manners. Shall we proceed?"

Damn. Granddad put him in his place. He sits there, pouting like a  scolded kid, and I guess he is that, but why did he act like such an ass  in front of clients?

The rest of the meeting runs without a snag and we close the deal with  everyone happy, except Dad. After everyone files out, my grandfather  asks us to remain behind.

"Jeff, what was the meaning of that?" he asks.

"I think you made a huge error and I tried to warn you."

"That's not what you did. You tried to make Prescott look like a fool and you failed. My question is why?"

"I didn't do that. I was trying to save this company from foolishly spending money." Dad's face is mottled.

"That's ridiculous. Prescott has an astute business mind, much better  than yours. He never would've gone after that building in the first  place if it hadn't been a viable option. And let's talk about foolish  spending. How many times have I had to bail you out of your awful  business proceedings? Don't bother answering that. It was more than I  care to count. I'm beginning to think it's time to sever your ties with  Whitworth. As it stands, you're not even a shareholder. I've only  allowed you to remain here because of my daughter and Prescott, but I  have no idea why I didn't boot you out after the shit you pulled last  Christmas. I'm giving you one week to get your business dealings in  order, Jeff. After that, you no longer have a role here."

Holy fucking shit. Granddad did it! I never thought he would. Dad's jaw sags open as the words penetrate.

"Close your damn mouth, Jeff. You brought this on yourself. You and that  liar you're married to. And don't worry-you'll be compensated. Maybe  not as well as you are now, but I'll work something out so you won't be  living on the street. But tell that wife of yours she might have to cut  back on the number of plastic surgeries she gets every month."

I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. I wish Grand were here. Would she ever be proud of her husband.

Dad storms out the door without uttering a word.

Granddad says, "I'm sorry you had to be a witness to that."

"I'm not. It's been brewing for a while. Thank you for supporting me."

"Prescott, I meant every word. You have a keen sense about you and I  trust your judgment. Your father never did have that, no matter how much  I worked with him."

I'm proud to hear those words from the man I respect most in the world.

"Thank you, Granddad. That means a lot to me. Can I say I loved the plastic surgery comment?"

"Your grandmother would've loved that one, too."

"I thought of her when you said it."

"Honestly, if that woman's lips get any more inflated, they're going to explode."

"That image is a little disturbing."

"As it is to me," he says.

"Hey, we got a great deal on that building. Now it's time to get it refitted."

"Son, you have your work cut out for you," he says, chuckling.

"Nah, I love this part. The change is what I like best."

"You do have the best eye for it."

"Nope. Weston does. I'll send him the floor plans as soon as we get  them. He'll come up with something amazing. Then we go to work."

"You're lucky you met him at Crestview, coming from a long line of architects," he says.

"Yeah, and his own firm has really taken off."

"That doesn't surprise me. Weston Wyndham is a talented young man."

On my way back to my office, I pass Dad's and see him cleaning out his  desk. Why does he have to be such an ass? It's obvious where I inherited  that trait from-a chip off the old block. Right at that moment, he  glances up. A look of utter contempt comes over him as he barrels toward  me.

"This is all your fault. You planned this. You set out to ruin me,  didn't you? Made my life miserable all those years, getting into fights  and never doing what you were told. And now this. You think you're  clever, worming your way into the old man's business. And all because  you can't have what's mine."

The venom that spews from him shocks me. I step backward as he jams his face into mine.