The pieces were coming together quicker than Dara expected. It had been only two weeks and India had already found a suitable architect and builder for the project.
“I told you cash is king,” India said, handing a roll of blueprints to Dara. “Things move forward faster when you don’t have to deal with the red tape and egos of some of those lenders. I’m telling you. I’ve seen the difference between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots.’ That’s why I work with the ‘haves.’”
They’d move their production to India’s home because she claimed she was able to work more efficiently when she was at home. And keeping to her promise, India decided not to renew the office space she was renting from her broker’s office so she could help Dara.
Dara knew India was one of the top-selling agents in the company, but she didn’t see how she got anything done with stacks of contracts offers, MLS printouts, and directions to properties strewn all over the floor. Dara wanted to dive in and color code and file her papers, but India had already warned her that if Dara moved anything from its designated spot, she was prone to lose a limb.
Dara took the roll of blueprints downstairs to the dining room table. With the exception of her office that looked like it had been turned upside down, India’s house looked like a decorated model home.
Dara pushed the place settings and center arrangement to one end of the table so she could spread out the three designs she’d chosen for the twelve ranch-style houses she planned to build. If phase one was completed as planned, she’d launch another community somewhere close to it.
India came downstairs with a legal-sized folder of contracts. “I need you to sign these so I can fax this back over.”
“Gladly,” Dara said, scribbling the business name across the highlighted lines as if she were a celebrity with thousands waiting in line for her autograph. Dara cloaked her identity behind her business name, H. J. Holdings, LLC, before bidding for the plots. The city had been anxious to sell them at a ridiculously reduced price. The market downturn had worked in Dara’s favor, and it looked like she’d also be closing on two adjoining plots at the end of next month.
“Remember, you’re a silent investor,” India said. “You don’t need to go down there every day trying to check on stuff. Let the contractors do their work and let Zebulon handle any issues that come up. That’s what you’re—well, the business—is paying him for. Even though you could probably pay him with kisses and he’d be just as satisfied.” India laughed. “I mean, he’s coming on strong.”
“Can you blame him?” Dara said. “But regardless of how he pursues me, that’s not going to happen right now. I don’t mix my business and personal lives.”
“Good. Because if he uses those eyes of his on you, he might be able to hypnotize you out of our secret. And a man you’ve known for less than a month doesn’t need to know you’re sitting on four and a half million stacks.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Dara said.
Of everything that could’ve come out of their roadside swiping, Dara would’ve never guessed it would be a project manager for Eagles Pointe. After lunch two weeks ago and her subtle way of digging into his background and more of his character, Dara had been confident in Zebulon’s abilities. He had prior experience in property management and construction, and although he hadn’t used it yet, he had obtained his general builder’s license in Georgia.
After a few days of prayer, Dara brought her decision up to India, who’d always been her second set of ears and eyes. India acted as a human resource manager and called Zebulon to request his resume with references, and had him sign a release for her to perform a criminal background check. His record was spotless and his references raved about his work ethic and performance. That was enough for both of them to pull him onboard. Which meant Tyler would come aboard, too. Zebulon and Tyler, like Dara and India, were tight in blood and friendship.
And since it seemed that Tyler’s breath issues had only been a fluke on the first day they’d met him, India had agreed to work with him. Still, she wouldn’t let him get his expectations up that there was a future for them. She’d seen him with the top button of his shirt undone, she’d said, and he had mounds of chest hair. A no-no in her book.
“Can you ride with me out to the supply warehouse? I want to look at some granite countertops.”
“Granite countertops?” India picked up the signed contracts and stuffed them back in the legal folder. “No. I’m not letting you do it. Find some nice laminate and call it a day. You don’t even have granite countertops in your condo so why put them somewhere where they’re going to be messed up anyway.”
“India!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know my mind-set about some things is jacked up, but I’m working on it. I’m serious. I prayed about it and everything. With God’s help, I’ll do better. I want you to put your money into things where you’re sure to get a return on your investment, that’s all.”
“Returns on investment don’t always come back to you in money,” Dara said, leaning over the first three-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath design. “And what kind of investment do you expect to get on this African safari you’re going on?” She still couldn’t believe India was actually going to do it.
“Connecting with my people,” India said.
“Your people live in Augusta, Georgia,” Dara said, reaching for her cell phone. It had been ringing nonstop all morning. Dara had also opened a business phone line and had the calls forwarded to her cell. To prevent her name from being tied to the project, she’d removed her personal greeting from her voice mail box and had India record one of her professional sounding messages.
“Oh, it’s Zebulon,” Dara said.
“You better watch him,” India said. “He’s tipping over to the stalker side,” she teased.
“We’re supposed to be meeting today.”
“Meeting? That’s what you call a date these days? Shoot, I need a meeting, too.”
“This is business,” Dara said, answering the line. She knew it would raise India’s suspicions when she disappeared into the spare bedroom that had been her home for the past week, but she’d seen India headed toward her iPod. That thing was small, but when India hooked it up to her speakers, you couldn’t tell it.
“Hey, Zeb,” she said, adopting the nickname that Tyler always said.
“I hate to call and cancel at the last minute, but something came up with my mama. I need to go and help her handle some family business. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? I’ll make it up to you with lunch.”
“Actually, tomorrow is good, but let’s have dinner. I have outreach that lasts all day.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you. Unless your church shuns outsiders.”
“Don’t even try it,” Dara said, impressed that he’d even offered. “That’s perfect, because it won’t just be the evangelism team this week. Some of the other ministries are joining us for a back-to-school bash. Anybody’s welcome, and we’ll need all the help we can get.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s right. You know where it is. It’s the same community where the investor is going to build Eagles Pointe.” Investor, also known as me, she thought.
“Maybe I can convince Tyler to ride out with me. Sometimes he acts like he grew up in a penthouse.”
“I know what you mean,” Dara said, since she’d been trying to make India change her plans to go shopping at the outlets and come with Dara to shop for souls for God’s Kingdom instead.
“So I guess I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Zebulon said. “Is eight o’clock all right? I can meet you out at your church. That’ll be closer for me.”
“That’s fine,” Dara said, wondering how Zebulon was going to react when he found out she was a motorcycle lover, and most of all rider. Dara hadn’t yet told him, but she wouldn’t be able to conceal it when she mounted up with the Kingdom Knights. Some men thought it was attractive, but she knew some who thought it was borderline masculine.
Dara stuffed her duffle bag with her dirty clothes and only the necessary items she needed to take home for the weekend. It was nearly two o’clock and she wanted to get on the road headed toward home before the three o’clock traffic thickened as all of Atlanta scrambled through the downtown area.
Dara heard the shower running in India’s master bathroom. She walked into her bedroom and knocked on the cracked door. There was enough steam heating the room to run a dry cleaning business.
“I’m about to leave. I need to go home and get ready for tomorrow. Instead of meeting today, Zeb and I are going to hook up tomorrow down at the outreach.”
“Okay. Call me later and lock the door behind you.”
Dara noticed the clothes spread across India’s bed. It wasn’t the kind of thing she wore lounging around the house. “You’ve got plans?”
“I thought I told you Mama was coming down. She called last night and said she wanted to hang out. I didn’t invite you because I know you typically stay in and prepare the night before when you have your evangelism days.”
“I’m too tired for all of that, anyway. You and Aunt Latrice have a good time. Don’t get too wild.”
“I’m not the one you need to be telling,” India said.
“I’ll call Aunt Latrice and tell her myself,” Dara said. She also planned to tell her that she wanted to see her so she needed to come down to the outreach tomorrow. Dara was sure her aunt Latrice would do it because Dara was her favorite niece, and the one she depended on to keep India out of trouble.
Tomorrow would prove to be an interesting day if everyone she invited actually showed up.