Scorpio Series Boxed Set

by Monique Domovitch

  “Alex, pour l’amour de Dieu, you’re being unreasonable. I hardly know the man. I’ve only met him once. He’s a friend of Natalia’s.”

  “I saw the way he looked at you. He was practically undressing you with his eyes. It’s damn clear he would like to be a lot more than your friend.”

  Brigitte was stunned. “Really, Alex. You have nothing to worry about. Gerald lost his wife recently and from what I hear, he is still mourning her. Besides,” she continued gently. “I love you, remember?”

  Alex was mollified. “Sorry. I guess I was just a bit jealous.” He hesitated for a moment and continued. “I love you, too,” he said.

  The words brought tears to Brigitte’s eyes. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you told me?” she asked, her voice overcome with emotion.

  To her joy, her husband reached over and held her hand gently. “I’ll try to tell you more often,” he promised.

  That night, Alex made love to Brigitte more passionately than he had in a long time.

  My dear God, Brigitte prayed silently later, still bathing in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Make this last. I’ve never been so happy. Please don’t take this away from me.

  The next morning, after Alex had left for work, a large bouquet of red roses arrived at the door. Oh Alex! You’re wonderful, thought Brigitte as she tore open the envelope. To her surprise, the card read, ‘To a lovely lady,’ and it was signed, ‘Your friend, Gerald Masson.’

  Brigitte’s disappointment was sharp. She took the flowers to the kitchen and dumped them in the garbage before Alex saw them.

  * * *

  In the year since Andrew had hired him, Alex had seen the housing project grow from a flat, dusty piece of land to a row of fourteen attractive houses on groomed lawns. Although the houses were built inexpensively, they were beautiful and solid. The model units had been open to the public for months, and though according to Andrew’s projections, half of the project should have been sold by now, eleven were still available. It was a bitter disappointment for the young developer.

  The dusty trailer was parked at the edge of the development and was used as much as a sales office for potential customers as it was for a drafting room and occasionally as a kitchen and cafeteria for the construction workers. No matter how they tried to keep it looking neat, it was always a mess.

  Alex bent over the detail-sketch of a kitchen plan when Andrew McGregor walked in, slamming the door behind him. Alex looked up. “What’s up?” he asked, surprised at Andrew’s dark scowl.

  Andrew dug his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Alex. I don’t know how to tell you this. The buyers who put the down payment on number five last week have changed their minds. They want their money back, and according to their purchase contract, I have no choice but to refund them.” He sighed. “Which means I won’t be able to pay you this week.”

  Alex leaned back in his chair in shock and waited for Andrew to explain, which he did feverishly. “It’s only temporary, of course. I wish I could go to my father for more money, but I can’t. The last time I went to him he made it clear that he wouldn’t lend me another dime. But I have a few other prospects that are just about to sign. As soon as I get some money, you’ll be the first to be paid.”

  Alex groaned as he calculated quickly. The income from his apartment building would cover his mortgage and living expenses. Going without a paycheck temporarily would not cause him any hardship. However, Andrew didn’t have to know this. Suddenly an idea came to him. “I have a proposition for you,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Andrew looked up hesitantly. “Shoot.”

  Alex thought for a moment how to best approach the suggestion. “I want to buy another building,” he said as the details began to fall into place in his mind. “I want to convert it, just as I did the one I live in. Instead of paying me a salary, I would like you to cosign the loan at the bank. You wouldn’t have to put out any money for it, and in the meantime, you wouldn’t have to pay me any salary.”

  “How much do you need?”

  Alex told him the amount.

  Andrew gasped. “But I would have to put up my own project as collateral. You’re asking me to risk everything I’ve worked for!”

  “You’re already in trouble and we both know it. You still need me to finish the project, and unless I’m wrong, I don’t think you can afford to pay me at all anymore. You’ve already cut the construction crew down to the bare minimum. This way you can finish your project without having to continue paying me. What could be better?”

  Andrew was silent. He was in a bind and as much as he hated to admit it, Alex had sized up the situation perfectly. “Let me think about it,” he said and stormed out of the trailer.

  For the next few days, Alex continued showing up for work every morning at seven o’clock sharp. One week later, Andrew walked into the trailer and pulled up a chair. “I’ve been giving some thought to your idea. It’s not bad,” he admitted. “But I want to see the building. I’ll agree to your proposal if you can prove to me that your plan is sound.”

  That evening, Alex went home early. Brigitte was on the telephone but she ended the conversation as soon as she saw him. “Alex, what a surprise,” she said, hanging up. “I didn’t expect you home so early.”

  “Who was that?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.

  She hesitated. “Gerald Masson,” she answered apologetically. She tried to explain. “He just called to tell me he bought one of my paintings.”

  Alex stared at her blandly; then he turned and walked back out.

  Chapter 5

  Gerald Masson knew it had been a mistake to call her the moment Brigitte mumbled her excuse. He stared at the telephone on his office desk, berating himself.

  You are a fool. Brigitte is not only married, but very much in love with her husband. What do you imagine can come of this? Nothing! He remembered her reaction when she recognized his voice. There wasn’t just a surprise; there was something else, a slight strain in her greeting. Brigitte had no feelings for him other than friendship. And if I keep pursuing her, she won’t even feel that.

  * * *

  Alex drove aimlessly for over an hour when he noticed the ‘for sale’ sign on an old abandoned building. Something about it reminded him of his own building before all the renovations.

  If the price is good, this one might be interesting, he thought. He took down the name and telephone number of the real estate agent and drove back home. He slipped quietly into the apartment and climbed into bed without saying a word.

  The next day he called the agent. “You have a good eye,” the woman told him on the telephone. She sounded knowledgeable and friendly. “The building is old, but solid. It was built in the nineteen-twenties and was one of the first buildings with an underground parking garage, which makes it ideal for a residential development project. Whoever picks it up will have a great deal. It used to be a bakery until a few years ago. The business was bought up by an international chain. They’ve since moved to more modern facilities and the owner wants to unload it fast.” She quoted the price and made an appointment to show him the property later that afternoon.

  They met in front of the building. When Alex climbed out of his car, Susan Temple was already waiting. The agent was in her late twenties, with a shapely figure, long blonde hair, and deep blue eyes.

  “I-I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. “My meeting went on longer than I’d anticipated.” He had not expected the real estate agent to be so attractive.

  Susan’s lips curled with amusement. “I hope it was successful,” she said graciously. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ivanov.”

  “Yes, it was successful, thank you,” he said shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. And please call me Alex.”

  “All right, Alex. How about if I show you inside?”

  She walked him through the building, pointing out the highlights along the way. “There are over one-hundred-t
housand square feet of space distributed on four floors, not counting the underground garage where the bakery trucks used to park.”

  They continued a little further. “Notice the old wooden columns. Those go for a fortune in antique stores, but, if I were you, I’d keep them. They add a lot of character to the place.” In the basement, she showed him through the boiler room and the electrical room. “Everything is solid. This building has been here nearly fifty years and there’s no reason it shouldn’t stand another hundred.”

  Alex looked around as he calculated quickly. I could easily get forty apartments out of this building, he thought.

  Almost as if she could read his mind, Susan Temple said, “And even if you end up with only thirty or forty apartments, you would make back your investment in no time.”

  “That depends on how much the renovations will cost.”

  “You won’t have to do anything structurally. The owner had a building engineer’s report done. The structure is solid. You would have to separate the space into apartments, put in plumbing and update the electrical of course, but other than that, most of the work would be mainly cosmetic.”

  Alex was impressed with her quick assessment of the situation. When they got back to the main entrance, Alex heard himself ask, “Would you join me for dinner? I’d like to go over a few of the details.”

  Susan smiled. “I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

  That night, Alex took her to a quiet, out of the way restaurant with small, intimate tables. Music played softly in the background.

  “We are here to talk about business, right?” asked Susan with a playful smile.

  “Unless you prefer talking about something else?” said Alex. He was enjoying himself. It had been a long time since he had flirted with a beautiful woman.

  The rest of the evening, they talked about everything except business. To his delight, Alex found that Susan was more than just beautiful. She was intelligent. She had a sense of humor and she was genuinely interested in him. Sparks flew.

  Toward the end of the meal, the conversation became more businesslike. “So, is that what you want to do? Turn the building into residential apartments?” she asked.

  “I’d like to turn it into a co-op. I think the time is ripe for a project of this kind in Greenwich.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea. A few developers are experimenting with the concept of co-ops and they seem to be very successful. Greenwich would be a great location for a project of that kind.”

  At the end of the evening, when he walked Susan back to her car, Alex wished he could see her again. What am I doing? He reprimanded himself, feeling a twinge of guilt. It had been no accident that he had not once mentioned his wife during the entire evening.

  * * *

  The next day, Alex showed Andrew the building, outlining his ideas for the project. Andrew had endless questions. “What about permits?”

  “No problem. The real estate agent assures me that the area allows residential zoning.”

  “What if the construction takes longer than you think?”

  “I’ve gone over the figures and even if we take six months more, we can still cover the mortgage payments.”

  “Parking in this area is difficult. Where do you expect the tenants to park their cars?”

  “The building has an underground garage. I’ve checked and it’s almost large enough for two cars per unit.”

  To every one of Andrew’s objections, Alex had an answer. “I see you’ve really thought this over,” admitted Andrew finally. Alex held his breath. Andrew paused for a moment. “I guess you’ve made it impossible for me to refuse.”

  A few weeks later, Andrew cosigned the loan and Alex closed the deal.

  Susan Temple was at the signing. “I guess you won’t need me anymore,” she said as they shook hands afterwards. She sounded disappointed.

  “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again,” replied Alex.

  The way her eyes held his, made his heart leap.

  Alex worked night and day drawing the plans. Two weeks later, he submitted them to the city permit department, slipping a one hundred dollar bill to the clerk. One month later, the renovations on the building began. Crews worked around the clock in an effort to complete the project in record time, and within months the model suite was ready to show.

  Alex had huge billboards erected, advertising large and luxurious co-ops for sale. He rented a trailer and had the interior decorated with deep pile carpets and rich, comfortable couches. On the walls, he displayed floor plans of the different apartments. Then he called Susan Temple.

  “I need a sales team and I’d like you to be in charge of it.”

  Susan tried to keep her voice steady, but it trembled. Alex smiled at her. “What kind of a salary are we talking about?” she asked.

  “I was thinking of putting you on a four-percent commission. The projected sales are one million dollars. If you sell every unit, you will make forty thousand.” It was a fortune and he knew it, but professionally and otherwise, Susan Temple was worth every penny of it.

  “I want five percent.”

  “What?”

  “In a bad year, I make nearly double that amount. I’m the number-one real estate agent in my office. I can guarantee I’ll sell every one of your apartments in less than six months, but I want a five percent commission, and I’ll work afternoons and evenings. Mornings are mine. Take it or leave it.”

  Alex laughed. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Mr. Ivanov, your project needs me more than I need it.”

  Alex hesitated. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Temple.”

  She burst into laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes. When do I start?”

  During her first day of work one week later, Susan Temple was sitting at the elegant secretary in a corner of the trailer when the phone rang. She picked it up and answered in her usual pleasant voice. “Sales office, may I help you?”

  “Hello, this is Mrs. Ivanov speaking. May I speak to Mr. Ivanov please?”

  Susan heard the words through roaring in her ears. She thought she might faint and had to grab the edges of the desk for support. Somehow, she heard herself answer pleasantly. “One moment, Mrs. Ivanov, I’ll see if he’s here.”

  She went out to the entrance of the building and found Alex talking to some contractors. “Alex, your wife is on the telephone for you.” She was proud of her composure. He must have no idea of how I feel.

  “Tell her I’ll be right there.” He spoke a few words to the men then hurried toward the trailer.

  Susan Temple did not sleep that night. She hugged her pillow and screamed her frustration into it. She could not believe the unfairness of it all. For the first time in years, she had met a man she could love. It had never occurred to her that he might be married.

  I’ll just have to put him out of my mind. I will meet somebody else someday. Alex Ivanov is not the only man in the world. She did not believe it for one second.

  * * *

  Months passed since the start of the project. Alex was in a dilemma. He still had his contract with Andrew to fulfill, and with his own new development underway, there weren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything that needed to be done.

  If he neglected Andrew’s project, his friend stood to lose his housing development. If he neglected his own, his sales projections would not be met in time to make the payments, and then Andrew’s project would be taken over by the bank to cover the loan he had cosigned. One way or another, Andrew would end up being the loser. There’s only one solution. I have to put all my energies into my own project.

  In Andrew’s office the next day, Alex tried to explain the situation.

  As Andrew listened, drops of moisture broke out on his forehead. He was livid. “Your first obligation is to me. You knew when you bought that building that you still had to honor your contractual obligations to me. You would never have been able to buy that building if it was
n’t for me. And now you stab me in the back just like that?”

  Alex shook his head. “You’re not listening to what I’m telling you. The way I look at it, you stand to lose less if I complete this project. Don’t forget, you cosigned the loan. If I go under, you will, too.”

  Andrew was very obviously shaken to his core as the reality of the situation hit him. He stared stonily at his friend. “You bastard. You swore to me that cosigning would not put me at the slightest risk, and now I find out I could lose my entire project,” he sputtered angrily.

  “I don’t know what to say, Andrew, except that I’m sorry. If you’ll only try to see it…”

  Andrew stood up slowly. His legs were shaking. “Trusting you was the biggest mistake of my life,” he said, his voice rasping. He walked out of the trailer, leaving the door swinging open behind him. Alex waited for a few minutes, and then closed the door softly.

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Alex tried to find some other solution to the problem. He called the bank and pleaded for an extension on his loan, only to be told that unless he made his payment on time, the bank would start immediate foreclosure proceedings. That night he went to a bar.

  First, he downed a scotch. Then three fingers of whiskey. Before long, his head was spinning and everything seemed all right. The night flashed by. The next morning when he woke up, he had no idea where he was.

  “Good morning. How are you feeling?” It was Susan Temple’s voice.

  He turned his head and felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding on it. There were two Susans standing before him. “Where am I?” he asked. His mouth felt like sandpaper.