The Millionaire’s Ultimate Catch by Michelle Monkou Page B

man. What was this all about?
    “Hi, Zack. Let me introduce you to one of my colleagues, Seth Lassiter.”
    “Mr. Lassiter.” Zack shook the proffered hand, trying to size up this new face. The squinty cast of his eyes, pinched features and weak chin didn’t give him confidence. He decided to wait and let Jamison do the talking.
    “Look,” Jamison began. “I know you think thatthings aren’t going as fast as you expected. I, on the other hand, think that we are right on track. The city council is willing to stand down from making a decision about the types of stores that will fill the mall.”
    Zack held his response. Instead he looked pointedly at Lassiter.
    “Oh, Lassiter will come in on the deal, my end of course. Can’t hurt to have more capital.”
    “This is something that we should have discussed privately—no offense.” He observed that the man barely blinked and stared back at him with the coldness of a robot.
    “Mr. Keathley, I am a man of many connections. I know what this small town needs. Bring in the right businesses and you bring the high-end professionals.”
    “But this was supposed to be for the middle income, our targeted demographic.”
    “The middle draws the lower end. The upper income will draw the middle.” He stroked his goatee, his actions full of slimy deliberation. “Look around at the megaplexes that have popped up over the state. They are overpopulated with a nagging criminal element that makes the lawyers and doctors run.”
    “I don’t need another partner.” Zack didn’t bother to look at Lassiter.
    “I beg to differ.” Jamison opened his briefcase and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. He slid the packet over to Zack. “Read it and get back to me. Twenty-four hours, okay?”
    “What is this?” Zack skimmed the document, noting the legalese in various fonts. What was Jamison up to? From the first glance, the document looked like the paperwork they had signed between them. Now that this man sat in the room and Jamison insisted that theyneeded him, Zack had a sick feeling that he’d learn exactly what was happening when he poured through the document.
    “We’ll talk later.” Jamison stood and adjusted his tie. He waited for Lassiter to stand next to him before addressing Zack. “I haven’t tried to pull anything over on you. I’ve always said that we needed an additional partner to win over the council and to get the protesters to realize that they can’t stop progress. The longer it takes for us to break ground, the more money I’m losing. That’s not the business model that I’m interested in pursuing.”
    Zack didn’t respond. He had nothing to say. Every word that Jamison uttered angered him, much less his so-called partner Lassiter. They sounded like sharks roving through unsuspecting victims. Many of the council members might buy into the skewed point of view and take a protectionist stance against the wrong kind of people moving in.
    Although Zack had grown up in privileged circumstances, he could still remember his early days as a child whose mother had to give him up. Her unmarried state and lack of funds tossed him into an orphanage. No matter how well he was looked after, he didn’t forget that he couldn’t go home because he was a burden.
    The Keathleys opened their hearts and home to him after they lived in Haiti. His adopted father got his start in the land development business when he helped with rebuilding a depressed area in the countryside, while his adopted mother volunteered in the orphanage. He knew they were special because of how loving they were to each other. But they also paid attention to him, talking to him as though his opinions really mattered.
    Every day, his mother visited him until the orphanageallowed him to go visit her. He loved staying in their house, which was so unlike the orphanage, with the house staff, clean, shiny surroundings and fresh smell to everything. For over year, he was tutored on his regular schoolwork,