Before I could respond, a Mexican man came up, paint on his clothes and hands, looking slightly frantic.
“May I help you?” Vaughn asked him, his eyebrow raised.
“I’m sorry to disturb you again, but the electrical wires in unit 278 keep stalling, and I know you want that unit done right away for your cousin.”
Vaughn glared at him. “Fix it. No more questions. No more interruptions.”
“Yes, sir.” The man walked off quickly.
“Now what were you saying?” He gave me his full attention.
“I was saying a lot of the lighting is off. The colors are dull, and I don’t think carpet is good for families with children.”
“I’ll get it done. We can rip up the carpet and order new lighting,” he said, like it was an easy task.
“Okay, let’s look at a couple more units, and then I’ll be ready to talk business.”
He nodded. We went down the elevator, and he took me to a smaller unit, a single apartment. His phone started ringing.
“Give me a moment,” he said, sounding a bit aggravated.
“Take your time. I’m going to look around. I love building up small spaces.”
He nodded and walked off. As I walked around, I could hear him on the phone, loud, arrogant. Not speaking in the tone he used with me.
“Well, handle it, nigga. I pay you not to call me. I’ll be at the spot tonight,” I heard him say.
I walked into the walk-in closet. It was a decent size for a single apartment. I stopped and looked at the framed photo on the closet wall. It was of a little Black boy and girl. They looked like siblings. I studied the photo, and the boy had to be Vaughn.
“That’s how our kids gon’ look,” I heard Vaughn say from behind me, and he was all in my space. So close I could smell his cologne. Then suddenly, I felt his hand around my waist. I jumped and turned around quickly. His hands fell from my waist.
“What are you doing?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
He threw his hands up in defense, smirking like he ain’t just tried to come on to me.
“My bad. I don’t want no smoke.”
“I’m sure you don’t. Let’s go over the contract. I hope you have it typed up,” I told him, brushing past him and out of the closet.
He walked out behind me, and I knew he was watching my ass giggle, so I stopped beside him.
“Lead the way,” I told him.
We walked to the property office and sat at the desk. He pulled out his MacBook, and I did the same.
“You said 500K a building. I can agree to that. That’s for you and to pay your team. All materials and furniture will be covered by my budget. Everything else is in the contract. I’ll email what I’ve drafted because I don’t do lawyers for this part. I don’t expect you to sign it today. Look it over, then get at me.”
“I hope I’m not signing my life away.”
He smirked. “Read it and find out.”
I gave him my email, and he sent the PDF over.
My phone vibrated in my hand almost instantly with the email. I opened it from my laptop and skimmed the first page, not reading too deep, just enough to see how detailed he was.
He wasn’t playing about his business.
I closed the file and looked back up at him. He was already watching me.
