“We’ll get a late lunch after we’ve been to the neighborhood,” she said by way of greeting.
Marina’s desire to eat was clearly not to be considered. She got in the back beside Sheila and the driver set off.
“Have you ever been to South Shore?” Sheila asked, handing her a leather portfolio.
“I haven’t, actually. I’ve been through there on the train a few times, obviously, but never had a reason to stop.” Although it was only a fifteen-minute drive from Pilsen, the neighborhood she’d grown up in, she usually took the train north into the city or as far as Boystown. But there was never a need to head south of the city.
“Those are some plans for the project. It’s a full-scale redevelopment, including three new luxury apartment building. Between each building will be retail spaces meant to hold high-end boutique stores.”
Marina nodded as she flipped through the portfolio. This concept was a core type for Black Pinnacle. Ultra-modern and minimalist, it exuded elegance and a price tag meant for a particular demographic. It also included the possibility of being used for short-stay vacations, which meant a constant supply of new people and the income generated by vacationers. “It’s beautiful.”
“It will be.” Sheila watched the passing scenery of the uninspiring I-90. “Eventually, most of Chicago will rival the other big cities in the world that people flock to for culture.”
“What made you leave your projects on the East Coast?” Marina asked. It was a question that had been bothering her. Why give up building an empire all in one area?
Sheila hesitated, a deep frown line between her eyebrows. “A messy breakup meant I wanted to put some distance between us. At least a thousand miles, though I did consider going abroad.” She shrugged a little. “It isn’t as if redevelopment isn’t welcome anywhere in the world, is it?”
That wasn’t precisely true. Anyone in the business knew that gentrification had pros and cons, proponents and detractors. Her last case had shown that very clearly, as the two sides went head-to-head, with the local community insisting they wanted to keep it just the way it was. Marina had managed to convince a jury that the potential spike in rents like they saw in Brooklyn, nearly seventy-seven percent, would make the neighborhood safer and reduce crime while also bringing money to the neighborhood.
“Do you plan to make any allowances for the current residents? Relocation offers, that kind of thing?” Marina asked, noting there was nothing like that in the portfolio.
“Would you recommend it?” Sheila asked and turned her sharp gaze toward Marina.
“It depends on a number of factors.” They exited the freeway and Marina glanced out the window. “You’re going to tear down a lot of buildings that are already derelict. But that means construction noise, road damage by heavy vehicles, lack of access, etcetera. People who decide not to sell to you will be angry, most likely, and want to fight you in court. If you want to avoid a protest and legal fights that could hold up construction, then yes. I’d suggest adding something to the offer that is nearly irresistible.”
Sheila looked at her intently, unblinking. “You’re the first attorney I’ve ever worked with on one of these projects that didn’t mention displacement of the poor as the first thing to think of.”
Marina wasn’t sure what that said about her as a person, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “Well, that wouldn’t be your concern as a businesswoman, would it? That said, you’re aware of the controversy involved in that aspect, and adding something to your proposal that gives people an incentive to sell so they can buy elsewhere wouldn’t go amiss. It’s also reasonably good PR.”
“Nearly heartless. I knew you were the right person for this.” Sheila motioned toward the window. “Look.”
The driver slowed as they reached the proposed area. There were some family homes, some empty buildings, some vacant lots. The acreage required for the redevelopment was large and would require quite a few people to sell. Seeing it in person made Marina reconsider how difficult this might actually become. Sheila was right: seeing it made a difference.
“Do you know,” Sheila said contemplatively, “the crime rate in this area was one hundred and twenty-five percent higher than any other area of the city? Thirty percent of the people here live below the poverty line. There’s a direct correlation. We’re going to change it. Make it safer.”
Marina was very, very certain it wasn’t going to be that simple. And that it wouldn’t be the people under the poverty line living there once this was over. But that wasn’t her problem. “Have you discussed the potential issues with any sociology experts? It would be good to have their input and statistics on our side. You’ll need extremely high security for your building sites and crews until the long-term changes take effect.” Meaning, of course, that anyone who couldn’t afford to live in the area wasn’t anywhere near it.
“I want you to identify families with the highest needs. Get a team on it, and for any who are within a half mile radius of our project, you can make offers of sale and relocation.”
Marina made notes in the notebook she’d use specifically for this client, scrawling quickly with her favorite fountain pen.She liked how professional they looked opposed to regular pens. What a weird thing to think about when people’s lives were about to be upended, she thought briefly before refocusing.
“And these shops, here. This is prime location near the park, which obviously needs to be redone as well. I’ll have the lake drained and restocked with fresh water, and the lofts that overlook it will have a higher price tag.”
Marina glanced up to see the shops being talked about, and her stomach dropped as they slowly drove past one she knew the name of. Echoes and Insights. River’s shop was one of the ones in the way. That explained why the name of the area had sounded familiar.
Well, if she can tell the future, she knows this is coming, right?Marina found she couldn’t write anything more down and closed the notebook. “I’ll find out if the shops are rented or owned and draw up a list of contacts. Adding buyouts for them would make things faster and less hassle as well.”
“Good.” She leaned forward. “Take us to NoMi, please.” Sheila’s phone rang and she answered.
Marina took the time to think about what she’d learned. She’d never known anyone who lived in one of the real estate areas her clients were working on. Did it change anything? Of course not. She and River weren’t dating. They were barely acquaintances. Maybe River would be fine with selling her place and starting over somewhere else? Why on earth was it even in this neighborhood? It would do much better where people had disposable income, not in a place where they could barely afford to eat and pay rent, let alone pay for someone to tell them about a future that was probably as bleak as their regular daily lives.
Yes. She took a deep breath and nodded to herself. This would be a good thing for River, even if she didn’t know it yet. And Marina had never been concerned over what individuals would do once they moved.
So why did it make her feel just a little sick to know she was about to mess with River’s life?
CHAPTER 8
River wasn’tsure things could get much better. It was a beautiful day, she’d given two readings that held a lot of promise for the people in question, and she couldn’t get Marina out of her mind. Even Marjorie had forgone her insulting alarm clock call. Her coffee didn’t taste burned, and the cinnamon bun from the Pig had just the right amount of icing.
