Chapter 4

Christopher

I was in the office, doing some end of the year projections to use for the following year. I planned to open one new store per quarter. Even though each store was an improvement upon the last, I was looking for a way to standardize. While I wasn’t interested in franchising, I knew at some point I’d get tired of this game and want to move on to another. At that point, I’d have to sell the chain and I didn’t want Steve involved.

There was a tap on the door. “Come in.”

“I’ve got some news.” Steve’s face was bland as usual. There were subtle things about him that told me when he was lying, but this time I saw nothing there.

“What is it?”

“You know that place you showed me, the bakery on the corner that you wanted me to look into?”

“Sure. Did you find out if they’re willing to sell?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure they’re willing to sell now.” His face was sardonic and cold.

I studied his face. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything. No, I put out some inquiries and first thing this morning I got a message that the place burned down last night.”

“What?” I got up from my chair and walked around the desk. “You don’t have anything to do with this, do you?”

“Don’t be an asshole. Of course, I don’t. It’s just a coincidence; one that I think you should consider karma. And if you look at it, what better thing for them? The place was old and anybody who bought it wouldn’t use it as a bakery. They’d tear it down. This way, it saves them the trouble to demo and you happen to be interested in the lot. How much better could it be?”

“Steve, swear to me you aren’t behind this.”

“I am not behind this,” he said and turned to leave. He swung around, his finger wagging at me, “I don’t like it when you don’t trust me.”

I relaxed, my shoulders slumping with relief as I nodded. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have that coming. It’s just one hell of a coincidence.” I sat back down in my chair, watching him from the corner of my eye. I didn’t want him to get nosy about what I was doing. It didn’t include him.

“Look,” I reinforced. “I’m sorry. Things used to be a lot harder to get accomplished before you came on board. You just seem to make things happen. You could see why I might wonder how you do it, I guess it’s just because you’re good at it.”

“And don’t you ever forget that,” he waved the finger one more time.

“Well, check it out, if you would. Go and get back to me on the numbers.” He nodded again before leaving, shutting the door little harder than necessary.

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to think about Steve. I knew he had to go. At the same time, I knew that getting rid of him wouldn’t be as easy as just buying him out. Steve lived with his wife, Marjorie, in the suburbs. Marjorie was hardly the suburbs type, having been a stripper when he met her. Steve had been selling used cars and dabbling in real estate on the side. That’s how we had croseds paths. I was starting to acquire some properties for my stores, and Steve had properties to sell. We worked a couple of deals together and I came to notice that he had a knack for making things happen easily. Real estate was not my forte, so it seemed only natural to get him involved.

I tried to hire him at first, but Steve was savvy. He could see what I was doing, and he knew that once I was done building stores, our relationship would come to an end. He wanted more than that. Marjorie pushed him for more than that. She wanted to hobnob with the women who had snubbed her while she stripped. She wanted to join that whole coffee klatch, tea in the afternoon thing that women with wealthy husbands could do. She wanted the country club and the charge accounts and the little blue Mercedes convertible. Steve, on the other hand, wanted Marjorie. He knew the only way to do that, was to give her the things you wanted. He was not a particularly attractive man himself. He was out of shape and wider than was healthy. His face was perpetually red, and his hair was short enough to get him into boot camp. He smoked nauseating cigars everywhere he went, except in my stores or in my car. I put my foot down about that.

So, Steve came to me one day. He was holding a manila folder and sat down across from me at my desk, pulling out the papers and spreading them in an arc.

I remembered my asking him, “What’s all that?”

“That,” he said, tugging at his tie like a man who seldom wore one, “is the beginning of your empire.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got a pretty good line on the kind of properties you’re looking for. It just so happened I picked up a few that I thought might interest you.”

“Really? What have you got?”

He spent the next half hour detailing ten new properties, most of which were vacant. He’d done his legwork, he knew what the value per square foot would run once a building was constructed. He knew the demographics of the neighborhood and how many people stopped at the traffic light each day. He had done his homework.

“What do you want for them?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away but slid all the sheets back into the folder, tapping them on the top of my desk like a deck of cards he was ready to deal. “I’ll give them to you,” he said.

I laughed outright. “No one gives that kind of thing away. What do you want?”

“I want in. I want twenty-five percent of every store you build from this point on.”

I whistled. “Are you out of your mind? I can find property on my own without cutting you in for a quarter of my future worth. Why should I take you on?”

“Because I like to do what you hate to do. You don’t want to spend days searching for just the right piece of ground and then finding out that there are zoning interferences you have to resolve. That stuff makes you nuts—I know you. You want to be given a nice clean square of property that’s just waiting for you to kiss it and make it beautiful. Am I wrong?”

I gave some thought to what he was saying. “No, not entirely. So, what are you proposing?”

He laughed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. “Like I said, you get me and for twenty-five percent ownership of the new stores, I’ll give you these properties, free and clear, and I’ll make all your problems disappear from here on out.”

I cocked my head. “It doesn’t happen that easy. If it did, everyone would do it. I don’t want to be involved with something that isn’t on the up and up.”

“You won’t be.”

I noticed he hadn’t said there wouldn’t be anything dishonorable in what he would do. He had said specifically that I wouldn’t be involved. I knew what that meant. The question was, did I need him? This was Chicago, after all—land of ward bosses and union leaders. City Hall always knew what was going on and someone was generally already making a buck off it. I knew they had soaked me more than once to get a permit or inspection through. I suspected that Steve was the kind of guy who played cards with those types. He was tough, he was savvy, and he was wanting into my idealistic world. What I had to ask myself was, whether I was better off having Steve on my side or out there trying to stop me? I knew the answer to that. “Let me give it some thought, a couple of days, okay?”

Steve stood up, slipping the portfolio beneath his arm and pulling out a cigar. “You got forty-eight hours. I don’t think I need to draw you a picture, but if so, let me know. I can give you a couple examples.”

“No, not necessary. Just give me some time to think about this. Oh, and leave those papers behind. I want to take a closer look.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. You think I’m going to hand you the result of my hard work without some kind of guarantee? I’m no fool.”

“No, that’s just about the last word I would use for you. I’ll be in touch.”

That’s how Steve and I had become partners and for the most part, he hadn’t done anything yet that made me sorry I’d done it. I had to admit, the coincidence between that fire and the building I wanted was a bit much, but I’d heard of stranger things.

Steve had proven himself in the interim. When I requested a property for acquisition, he made it happen. I never heard another word about permits not being issued or union labor that was unavailable. There were no delays in construction; it always went off without a hitch. Quite frankly, it had allowed me to outperform the competition, hands down. Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe Steve’s efficiency had become so commonplace that I undervalued him. I didn’t like to think that was the truth. I preferred to deal with integrity, but Chicago wasn’t that sort of town.

No, I knew Steve had to go. I picked up my cell and called my attorney. He knew Steve and our arrangement. I invited him for drinks and to sit down to discuss the situation and the best way to get out of it.

I’d just laid my phone down when it buzzed. I picked it up, looking at the ID. It was Corey again. “Hey, Bro, how are you doing?”

“I’m about at the end of my rope, to tell you the truth. It’s probably a good thing I don’t have a gun in the house.”

“Jesus, Corey. Calm the fuck down! Don’t even say things like that, you’re scaring the shit out of me. Can’t the two of you find some common ground?”

“Right. I don’t think we’ve had common grounds since our wedding night and even then, it lacked that special something, if you get my drift.”

“Corey, why are you being such an ass? If you don’t like your wife, then you need to end your marriage. This bickering and tension aren’t good for the kid, you know that. You remember what it was like with Mom and Dad. It tore our guts out.” We were both silent as the memories seared through us again.

“This is different, Chris. I’m not beating the shit out of my wife. No, this is entirely different.”

“In what way?”

“I can’t really put it into words, but just take my word for. She’s out of control and she’s determined to make my life miserable.”

“Can you be a little more specific than that?”

“Every day it’s something new. She doesn’t like this, she doesn’t like that, I don’t do this, I do too much of that. You get my drift?”

“Look, why don’t I line you up with a therapist, my treat? Have a few sessions together and see what they say.”

“Won’t do any good, and I don’t need your money. She knows how to be on her best behavior when people are watching. She’ll sit there and pretend everything is sweetness and candy and then the minute we’re out of the office, I’ll catch hell for everything I said wrong. No, thanks, but no thanks. Keep your therapist to yourself.”

“Jesus, every time I talk to you, I realize how glad I am I’m not married.”

“Really. This is one of the few times I’ll say that you’re smarter than I was.”

“So? Was there something else that you needed?” I was anxious to get back to my spreadsheet and not so anxious to hear more about Corey’s problems. They were beginning to wear on my nerves. I didn’t give a shit whether Corey and Daphne divorced; I did care what happened to Marga.

“No, I guess not. I just feel like I’ve got to vent once in a while, you know? I mean, normal guys go down to the bar and get drunk. If I do that, I pay for it when I get home.”

I shook my head and grimaced at the open space before me. I felt like I had to have his back, when in truth I would like to see his backside with my foot in it. I couldn’t say that, though. “Okay, I get it. Take it easy and take the wife out to dinner, huh?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he summarized, and his phone went silent. I turned my phone completely off and got back to my work. There was something to be said for spreadsheets. They had to add up; numbers don’t lie.