by Ben Marney
“How the heck do I know? I don’t speak dog.” We both burst out laughing and took another drink.
When I regained my composure, I looked down at Charley and rubbed his head. “I think it’s because they blocked his view of the ocean when we were driving up A1A from Miami.”
“Woof, woof!” Charley barked in agreement.
I poured myself another glass of wine and took a long sip. I hadn’t been that drunk in a long time. I was just drunk enough that my normal filter that prevented me from expressing my true feelings was turned off. Trying my best to enunciate the words I blurted out, “Lester, I’ll tell you what I don’t like about friggin’ condos...they’re ugly as hell, butt ugly, and I don’t like how they destroy the natural berm and sea wall. It always makes me sad to see a tall construction crane setting up on oceanfront property.”
Les lifted his glass and finished it. Then he set it down on the table and after a few tries finally made it up to his feet. “Son, I haven’t been this drunk in twenty-five years, but I think I’m done. So if you will point me to that guestroom you mentioned earlier, I would appreciate it. But before I go, I want to say this.”
He looked down at Charley. “You, sir, are one hell of a dog! A little scary, but one hell of a dog!” Then he turned and looked at me. “Grant, I am absolutely convinced I was right and we are meant to work together. If you want the Beverly Beach project, it’s yours. And if you don’t want an ugly ass condo project there that destroys the natural berm, then design something that’s not butt ugly and that doesn’t harm the beach. I have no doubts that between you and Charley, you two can come up with something that will make us all proud.”
When I woke up the next morning, Les was gone, but had left me a note on the island in the kitchen.
Grant,
I had to get back to Jacksonville for an early meeting. I’ve left the keys to the new office and an employment contract on the island. I’m hoping you and Charley take the job. It was a very enlightening evening. I haven’t had that much fun since the 1960’s.
Let me know what you decide.
Les
After breakfast, I loaded Donna and Charley into my old truck and drove the twenty-nine miles to Beverly Beach. When we got there, I took out the land plot and walked the property, including the full quarter mile of beach. It was untouched and pristine.
I felt sick to my stomach thinking about being responsible for destroying this beautiful natural piece of unspoiled nature. But I knew if I turned him down, he would just hire someone else to do it.
Watching out for the traffic, we walked across A1A and found the stakes marking the adjacent property that matched the land plot. Directly behind the land plotted on the map were several more flat, sandy empty acres. I walked that property as well.
I had an idea, so I loaded up the dogs and drove straight to the Flagler County Courthouse and found out who owned that property. Then I drove back to Beverly Beach and dropped in on a local realtor. I got the realtor to give me a ballpark estimate of what that property was worth. I discounted that price by about half, because he had no idea what was about to be built on the beachfront property in front of it that would block its view and drop its value considerably.
On the drive back, I called Les on my cell and asked him if he could come see me the next day in my new office. I called it ‘my new office’ to appease him.
The facts were I was going to take the job and it would be my new office...only if he liked my idea and agreed to my terms. If not, I was going to thank him for his confidence in me and for offering me the opportunity, then give him back his keys and walk away.
14
Face To Face
After checking out every square inch of the new office, Donna and Charley sprawled out on the floor behind my chair and I went to work. It was almost four a.m. when I finally flipped off the computer and headed home. My eyes were blurry from staring at the screen and my mind was numb, but I had a good start on the overall concept. Les wasn’t going to be there until around six p.m., so after a little sleep, and some breakfast, we all headed back to the office.
When he got there at six, he was carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hand. “I thought we might want to officially christen your new office!” He said, holding up the bottle.
I smiled. “That sounds like a good idea, but before we pop that cork, I think you need to look at something.”
I had printed out the plans and laid them on the table in the small meeting room. “I’m going to take Donna and Charley out for a walk. The plans are in there.” I pointed at the table. “It’s just a conceptual overview. I want you to look at the concept with an open mind, because I realize it may not be what you were expecting. When I get back, we can talk about it and I’ll explain my ideas further.”
I gave him almost thirty minutes before I came back. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in, but for the entire time I’d been walking the dogs, I’d been practicing my rebuttal speech, so I was prepared for just about anything.
“I’m starving,” he said the second we walked in, “let’s go get some dinner.”
He grabbed Charley’s leash out of my hand and took off walking. I locked the door, and Donna and I followed behind them.
He stopped at a small restaurant that was only a few blocks away from the office. “This is a great place. Fantastic food and they’re dog friendly.”
We settled around a table on the outside patio and ordered our food. Throughout the dinner, he never once said a word about my Beverly Beach drawings. I was beginning to lose my patience when he finally brought it up.
“If we don’t build the condos on the beach, what are your plans for that property?”
Finally, I thought to myself. “To leave it untouched, natural and pristine.”
He frowned at me. “Do you have any idea how much a quarter mile of ocean front property is worth?”
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s priceless the way it is now, but if we destroy it and cover it up with concrete and steel, it’s not worth much at all.”
He stabbed the last bite of his steak and put it in his mouth. In between his chewing he said, “You ain’t one of them damn tree huggers, are you?”
“I think the politically correct term is conservationist,” I said, laughing, “And yes, I guess I am a little bit of a tree hugger at heart. Don’t get me wrong, I understand our growing population problems and the need for more housing, but come on, Les, building $400,000 condos isn’t really part of that problem and you know it. All I’m trying to do here is save a quarter mile of beach. That’s all.”
“I understand, but this all comes down to business. How am I supposed to convince the owners of this property and the investors of the development that your concept is going to make them the most return on their money? It’s a cruel world, son, and that’s really all it’s going to boil down to. Dreams are nice to have, but money is money, and that’s what rules the world and gets projects built.”
“Les, I’m not some kid fresh out of college. I’m not naïve to how the real world works. Remember I asked you to look at this with an open mind. Are you willing to at least listen to my ideas?”
He yelled for the waitress and ordered a double scotch, “Sure, I’m willing to listen,” he said, “but hang on until I get my drink. I think I’m gonna need it.”
I gathered my thoughts while we waited for his scotch. After he took a few sips I began, “When was the last time you saw a Florida beach front condo complex featured in Architectural Digest and talked about on all the news channels?”
Les frowned, wrinkling his forehead as he considered my question. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”
I smiled. “You know why? Because they’re all exactly the same. Some are bigger, some are smaller. They may look completely different and have unique designs, but in the end, they are all the same and were built for the same reasons you just talked about – to make the most profit possible for the investors, with absolu
tely no consideration for what that development might do to the environment and ignoring the permanent destruction of the natural beach line.
“Simply put, they are all the same and therefore not newsworthy. But what if a group of investors did it differently? This will be one of the largest developments in the entire state. What if these developers were willing to sacrifice a small percentage of their profits to develop something that was environmentally friendly? Something that served exactly the same purpose, but didn’t destroy the natural pristine beach, but instead preserved it forever...for the tenants and the rest of the world to enjoy? What if this project goes out of its way to take advantage of the newest green technology, like solar and wind to power the project? What if this development was actually concerned about its impact on the environment? And there’s one last thing I’d like to do that if we could pull off I’m sure would seal the deal.”
Les frowned. “Oh lord...there’s more?”
“I want to build it with American made products. From the steel super structure to the carpets. All American made. I don’t know about you, but I think a project like this just might be newsworthy, especially considering the growing worldwide concern of global warming and the current movement to bring jobs back to the U.S.”
I paused to let my words sink in and sipped my Diet Coke. “And one last thing. What if the architect for this project just happened to have a close connection with one of the contributing editors of Architectural Digest, who has already expressed an interest? And...what if this architect graduated college with one of the producers of the Today show on NBC? You think that might help sell this to your investors?”
Les leaned forward and sat his Scotch down on the table. “How much more per unit would all this take?”
I grinned. I had his attention, “Well, that would depend on how good your guys are at resourcing and purchasing the materials. But if we do it this way, the amount of recognition and free advertising should offset the increased costs of construction.”
Les looked at Charley, who was lying at my feet. “Charley, is all this your idea, or is he really this smart?”
He jumped up and put his paw on his knee. “Woof, woof.”
When the residences of Beverly Beach first heard about the plan for a large condo project coming to their area, they were angry. A few of them actually protested at the planning commission, but when they realized what we were doing and how concerned we were with preserving the natural beach line and only using American made materials, they changed their minds and got onboard. And because of this support, the plans and building permits were expedited, approved quickly and in less than six months, the project broke ground.
It was quite the celebration. Les had pulled a few strings and twisted a few arms, so on the day of the groundbreaking, every news channel you could name was represented, with their station logos on their cameras aimed at the platform. On that platform standing behind the gold-plated shovels were the CEO of NEW-SKY, the development company, Les, the governor, the mayor, me and Charley, and Savanna Guthrie from the NBC Today show. My producer friend had pulled that string. A photographer from Architectural Digest was also there, taking pictures for the promised cover and featured article that would be published when the project was completed. I had been correct. This project WAS newsworthy.
To complete the designs and drawings, I had been working almost round the clock for the past six months, sleeping on the sofa in my office most nights. To be honest, I was thankful to have the work to keep my mind occupied.
I wish that I could tell you that over the past six months, my relationship with Melissa had improved and flourished, but unfortunately, it had taken an unusual turn and as a result, we had drifted further and further apart.
Six months earlier, the day I got the call from Les telling me that the Beverly Beach project was a go, was the same day Melissa was supposed to get back from her trip to Savannah.
I was standing in the kitchen when Donna and Charley suddenly jumped up and ran to the front door, barking. The doorbell had not chimed, but I knew what was going on. When I opened the door, Donna and Charley flew out and ran down the front steps to greet Melissa and Molly, who had just pulled into the driveway.
I was not surprised when Molly jerked open the door and jumped in the middle of the two dogs, rolling on the ground, laughing and giggling at the top of her lungs. But I WAS surprised when Melissa opened her door, ran up my steps, jumped into my arms and kissed me.
“Oh, Grant.” She purred in my ear, “I’ve missed you so much.”
In the two weeks she’d been gone, we’d only talked a few times, so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was loving it. As usual, the chills were racing through my body and my heart was pounding in my chest with each kiss. It was great to feel her back in my arms again. I just hoped it would last this time and we could finally move to the next step in our relationship, but that just didn’t seem to be in the cards for us.
For the following three weeks, my life resembled something you might read in a romance novel, because it was very sexy and extremely romantic.
It started the very next day when she offered to help me decorate my new office and before I knew it, the lights were out and we were making love on the floor.
I took her out to the most romantic restaurants in town and after these dinners, we walked barefoot, hand in hand, along the beach shore. We’d had sex before, but it seemed different. Now, we couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes and we couldn’t seem to stop snuggling afterwards.
Those strange jolts of electricity that continued to run through us that used to confuse and bother us no longer seemed inexplicable. We decided that they must simply be jolts of love. What else could it be, because we were both falling deep, hard and fast!
We had just come in from one of those moonlit walks when my cell phone rang. It was Marshall.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked. “Isn’t this a little past your bedtime?”
“Yeah, a little.” His voice was not cheerful. “Is Melissa back from her trip?”
“Yeah, she’s sitting right here next to me. What’s wrong?”
He hesitated before he spoke. “Will both of you be home this weekend? I need to talk to you. Both of you.”
I looked at Melissa and raised my eyebrows, “We’re both here listening, why can’t you just talk to us now?”
“I don’t want to tell you this over the phone. It’s...just too important. I need to tell you in person, face to face.”
“Well, to be honest with you, Marshall, I love you, buddy, and would love to see you, but I’m already behind schedule with this new Beverly Beach Project and I don’t really have time for company. Can’t this wait?”
He put the phone on speaker. “Grant, this is Brenda. We know you’re busy, but no, this can’t wait. We’ll be there tomorrow night about six p.m. We’ll rent a car, so don’t worry about picking us up. Just make sure you guys are there when we arrive. This is very important.”
Melissa and I stared at each other in silence for a long time after they hung up wondering what in the world could be so important that they had to fly all the way from Houston just to tell us face to face.
“I have no ideas, do you?”
“No. I just hope it’s not something else about Jerry.”
Their phone call had created a dark black cloud that hung directly over both of our heads and killed the mood. Neither one of us felt like doing anything else, so I walked her back to her house, paid the babysitter and kissed Melissa good night, or perhaps I should say…goodbye.
I dropped off to sleep quickly, but woke up at about three a.m. My mind was whirling with possible scenarios. I couldn’t stop wondering what in the world Marshall was coming all that way to tell me. I knew I’d never go back to sleep so I woke up Charley and headed for the office. Since I knew I would have to quit working at five-thirty to make it home by six, I thought I would make up the time by getting to the office early.
F
ortunately, I am one of those one-track mind guys, so once I got into the project, my brain took over, and the thoughts of Marshall never entered my mind except for the hour that I took off for lunch and the few times I had to take Charley out to pee.
Surprisingly, I had gotten a lot done and had a productive day. I was running late and the traffic had been unusually heavy, so I had just pulled in to my driveway when Marshall and Brenda pulled in behind me in their rental car. It was one of those smart cars, the smallest vehicle I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but start laughing, watching Marshall work his 6’4” body out of that door.
“Where are your big shoes and red nose? What kind of friggin’ clown are you?” I yelled.
He frowned back at me. ”What?” He didn’t get the joke, but Brenda burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Never mind, honey,” Brenda said to him, grinning at me. “You’d have to have a sense of humor to understand.”
“I have a sense of humor!” he retorted as he struggled trying to get the suitcases out of the tiny back storage space.
“Of course you do,” I said, “but unfortunately, yours is warped.”
He jerked hard on the handle of his suitcase, finally freeing it. Then he pulled up the sliding handle, flipped me the bird and rolled past me down the sidewalk to my front staircase.
After he’d climbed the stairs up to my front door, he turned and yelled back at me, “Hurry the hell up and let me in, asshole! I need a beer!”
After they were unpacked and all set up in the guest room, the three of us met on my back deck and settled around the patio table.
“You want me to call Melissa?” I asked.
Marshall shook his head. “Not yet,” he said, sipping his beer and gazing out at the ocean. “Let us enjoy this view for a little while longer.”
15