Turn Over - Page 95

This could go one of two ways. Knowing the kind of man I was, I knew which option I would choose. The one I always chose. Decisions like this came to me naturally. At least they used to. They should. I wasn’t the type to get bogged down in ethics—or consequences. Not the emotional kind anyway. I analyzed the black and the red of a deal. Nothing else mattered.

I prided myself on the size of my bank account, not the number of friends I had. I could spot a liar a mile away. A swindler even farther. Call it natural instincts. Call it growing up with a liar as a father.

Some people said I was calculated or cold. Some said I was heartless and ruthless for what I do. I shrugged it off. Other people’s opinions never meant anything to me.

I’m the one who weighed the outcomes. I’m the one who saved the deal. Everything else is only collateral damage as far as I’m concerned. At the end of the day, there can only be one winner. And that winner better be me.

The contract sat on the table. I reached for the pen. She wouldn’t forgive me, but she knew what she was getting into when we started this.

There was only one way this was going to go from the beginning.

1

Mason

My elbows dug into the wooden railing. There was no doubt this room had the best view of the beach. The way the balcony jutted over the dunes made the view unobstructed. The shoreline was already busy this morning. Tourists loved this place. Their umbrellas and chairs planted in the sand, marking their territory. But this beach wasn’t theirs. They were only temporary. I knew there would be a new group in the morning. That’s how South Padre was—always changing.

I stood to take a sip of coffee and squinted under the sun. I peered at the tall hotels on my right. Sometimes it felt as if they were mocking me. Their steel and glass exteriors showcasing what a successful business venture should look like. I turned away. It was too late to turn this project around. Imagine what this view would be like from the top of one of those buildings. The price tag for this little piece of sandy real estate would sky rocket. I shook my head and walked back inside, sliding the door behind me.

I was a silent partner in the Palm Palace condo conversion. Every time I drove into town I regretted that part of the deal the most. I had agreed I would stay out of the daily minutia. Besides, I didn’t have time to micro-manage one condominium conversion.

I left my mug on the new granite countertop and headed to the bedroom to find my running shoes. Texas was blazing hot in August, but I could get a run in before the temperature hit one hundred.

I tossed my T-shirt back on the bed. It was too hot to consider more layers. I planted earbuds in my ear, tucked my phone in my pocket, and headed out the door.

I hit the sand under the Palm’s boardwalk. The new platform looked good. I didn’t like getting bogged down in construction details, but touches like this made a big difference. The motel had been around since the 1950s. It was an island eyesore until I rescued it.

I turned toward the hotels and started jogging near the wet sand where the waves retreated every few seconds. I nodded at a few girls sunbathing. It seemed early to be out, but I wasn’t complaining. A pretty girl in a bikini added to the view.

I was going on six months of bachelorhood. I had been single again about as long as I had been in a relationship.

The blonde waved at me, and I pushed forward.

Being single suited me. The relationship I had with Taylor was fun. She liked to go out and have a good time, but I could see that look in her eyes. The one that said she wanted a promise from me. A promise we would be together forever. I wasn’t sure I was the kind of man who could make that type of commitment to any woman. Once I realized it was all she could think about, I knew I had to end it. I used the long distance as the reason. I didn’t need another lecture on my commitment issues. Breakups never ended happily. I learned that a long time ago.

It looked like the tide was going out. There was more beach under my feet. I cranked up the volume on my playlist and picked up the pace. The clumps of tourists were thicker on this part of the beach. The hotels were bringing them in faster than the sand castles were washed out by the waves on the beach. This is what we should have done with the Palm. We should have turned it into a hotel or condo rental that reached the sky. There was untapped money potential in that piece of land that I passed up just to try to stay in the good graces of the only bit of family I had—Grey.

I felt the sweat run down my neck and the burn in my calves. Beach running wasn’t easy, but every time I was on the island I had to get it in. People told me I ran into challenges on purpose. I didn’t look at it that way. What was the point of doing something if I couldn’t prove I do it better than anyone else? Tackling challenges was my way of showing I could outmaneuver anyone in a boardroom, outrun anyone on the beach, and out play anyone at life.

My phone beeped as a call interrupted the music.

“Yeah? What is it Mark?”

“Good morning, sir. The financials are in for the Cove project. I sent them to you five minutes ago.”

“All right. Thanks for letting me know.” I stopped next to one of the hotel boardwalks so I could hear him better.

Mark was the newest member of my staff. I hired him straight out of college. He was working on his MBA at night. I thought it showed he had goals. I didn’t want someone complacent on my team.

“Do you want me to tell them you’re going to make an offer?”

“I’d like to look over the report first.” Mark was green. I had hoped he would pick up on the way I ran my business a little quicker. Maybe the grad studies would help.

“Right. That makes sense. Ok, well I’m in the office. Let me know what you want me to do next.”

“Mark—” I started to launch into a rundown on business concepts, but I was wasting my breath. “I’ll call you when I review the file.”

“Sounds good, sir. When do you think you’ll be back in the office?”

Tags: Violet Paige Romance
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