Chapter 8
421 Words
James
I wake to the smell of coffee. Staring at the ceiling for a moment, I try to line up enough brain cells to remember where I am.
Oh, yes….
Pulling on my pants, I head for the bathroom. Michael is already up, doing something in the kitchen. “Morning,” he calls. “Breakfast?”
“Sounds good, thanks.”
“If you’ve got a hangover, you’ll find something in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Thanks.” In fact, I don’t have a headache, but I am a bit woozy. Michael serves me with plenty of coffee and orange juice. “Omelette?”
“I don’t want to be in the way. I need to be getting on.”
“Me too. I’ll be out of the door in fifteen minutes, but it’s as easy to make omelette for two as for one.”
“Thanks, then.”
Over breakfast, he says, “So, how do you want to play it, with the investment? You’re the one with the money, so the ball’s in your court. I assume you would be wanting security of some kind?”
“The building itself would be the security.” I ponder for a moment. “Are you free later today to visit the agent with me? We can go through the motions of a viewing on the building, but then put in an offer to get it held for you; stop anyone else buying it from under you. Then we can talk to the lawyers about the paperwork.”
He beams. “Sounds great. What are you looking for on terms?”
“Interest payable at 2% over base. That gives me a return and you some leeway. How long are you looking for?”
“How does five years sound? With an option to pay back early if I can?”
“Fine. Deal. The lawyers can dot the i’s and cross the t’s.”
And we shake hands, Michael looking inordinately pleased as he downs his breakfast.
“Mmm…” he mumbles, through a mouthful of egg. “How long are you in town?”
“Just for a week this time. Why?”
“Thought you might like to visit the Club again. There’s a cute little blond who turns up there regularly mid-week. And she’s dropped a few hints about which way her tastes run.”
“Really? Sounds interesting.” I smile. “And you think we might….?”
“Mmm…. Yes, I think we might.”
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- Writer
