Connor hesitated, then sat down on the walkway.
‘My finance team are calling it a cash-flow crisis, but I guess you know what that means.’
Jim nodded and sat down next to him. It was a polite way of saying the money had run out and the banks were refusing to lend any more, or worse, calling in the debt. He’d seen it so many times in rival companies: an entire resort development in Dubai had once gone belly-up because there was a sudden inexplicable shortage of sand. Sand was everywhere, of course, but not the right kind, the kind required for making flexible levelling compound. There just wasn’t any in the country at the time they needed it, so the building stalled, causing a domino effect that cost the investors millions and meant that the project still stood windowless and empty, the desert slowly blowing in.
‘How far in are you?’ asked Jim as gently as he could.
Connor barked out a hollow laugh. ‘That’s the irony; it’s seventy-five per cent done.’ He turned to Jim, the weariness apparent on his face. ‘I’ll level with you. We overplayed our hand, told everyone it was under control when it wasn’t, missed one too many payment deadlines, I guess. Now when I tell the banks it’s ready to go, they don’t believe us and I can’t really blame them. But – man, you should see it. When it’s finished, it will be one of the finest places to live in the city.’
‘What do you need?’
He named a figure. Jim didn’t blanch. He knew the business well enough to have worked it out.
‘Could you not sell some assets?’
‘Like our family home?’
‘No, I wasn’t suggesting that.’
‘Yes you were. You’ve seen this place, must know how much it’s worth.’
‘It would liquidate some cash . . .’
‘It would kill Jennifer to sell this place.’
‘Do you think Jen is that interested in money, in the trappings of it all?’
‘Is that what she told you?’ Connor said, flashing him a fiery look. Then his expression softened and he looked genuinely upset. ‘Our city house belongs to a family trust. I could never get rid of this place. Jen loves it. It’s the one place where she’s happy. By the water. I just don’t want her to have to go through leaving another family home that she cares about.’
‘I know,’ said Jim quietly, silently acknowledging that for once, he and Connor were in complete agreement.
‘How interested do you think Simon would be in investing?’ Connor’s expression was stoic, proud, but the hint of desperation was obvious. Jim didn’t like to point out that he had been belittling Simon Desai just the night before, hinting at his financial problems. But he could only imagine how difficult it was for Connor to have this conversation. And he had been telling the truth when he said he didn’t want to point-score.
‘I don’t know,’ he said honestly. ‘He’s avoided ultra-luxe residential investments in New York in the past. Thinks the market’s saturated. But I can ask him.’
He watched Connor’s shoulders slump. He didn’t like the man, but it was impossible not to feel sympathy for everything he was going through.
‘I have two hotels,’ Connor said finally. ‘Through a separate investment vehicle. I don’t want to sell either of them, but if I don’t raise the capital to salvage the condo project, then I’m in danger of losing everything.’
‘Where are they?’
‘One is in New York. The other is in the Caribbean. Would you be interested in having a look?’
‘Tell me about the Caribbean resort.’
Connor puffed out his cheeks. ‘It’s on the island of Baruda. Do you know it?’
It was Jim’s job to know the industry inside out, the best resorts, the hot spots with buzz. But there were so many thousands of hotels in the world, it was hard to keep abreast of everything. The Caribbean in particular had a raft of hotels with ever-changing names and ownership.
‘It’s called The RedReef Club. I bought it three years ago. It’s not as deluxe as any Omari resort, but it’s a wonderful spot, private beach access, fifteen minutes by seaplane to the international airport on Turks and Caicos. You could do something interesting with it.’
‘Do you have a sales prospectus?’
‘Until five minutes ago, it wasn’t even for sale.’
‘Well send me something,’ Jim said, and for the first time in twenty years, he and Connor looked at each other with something approaching solidarity.
/> Chapter Sixteen