TANDY did not waste any time. True to her word, she arranged a meeting between Manny and Dana Trip for the next afternoon. Dana chose a teahouse on the corner of Lexington and Eighty-second Street. When Manny walked through the green wooden door, the sweet music of wind chimes echoed through the air, the peaceful sound marking the restaurant as one of New York City’s many false havens. The space was long and cavernous, with many different-sized Buddhas and elephants decorating the shelves that lined the bamboo walls. There were ten or so low square wooden tables with fancy silk pillows surrounding them. Manny immediately recognized Dana by the description Tandy had given him. With her shiny pink microdermabrasioned skin, unnaturally full lips, perfectly coiffed bright blond hair, and finely made clothing, no one ever would have imagined that she hailed from any place other than Park Avenue. Surely, no one would have suspected that she originated from Omaha, Nebraska. However, Manny could immediately understand how she managed to marry well. Women like her got plucked up quickly as the replacement wife: young, pleasant to look at, eager to please, not bitter. Until they became bored with their old man of a husband and fell prey to the brainwashing of the guru of the month.
She waved at Manny as soon as he entered. Apparently, Tandy had described him well. He walked toward Dana, confident, certain he looked every bit as rich as she did. As he reached her, he leaned down, and gave her a large white smile that exclaimed, “You can trust me. I’m a likable guy.”
“Tandy was right. You are so cute, so cute. I could just eat you up right here, right now.” Dana beamed.
Manny continued to smile, disgusted by the thought of her bloated lips eating him. “Nice to meet you, too.” He made sure he sounded sufficiently open, informal, in a tone he gathered she could appreciate, being spiritually astute.
“Tandy told me all about you,” she said, looking him up and down before gesturing him to sit in the chair closest to hers. Immediately, she placed her manicured hand on the arm of his cashmere sport jacket.
“Hopefully not all about me!” Manny joked, maintaining the casual tone. He always took his cues from potential clients.
“You are such a charmer, just as Tandy said!” Dana laughed, and her eyes continued to appraise him.
She took the liberty of ordering him some lavender tea before grilling him. She probably assumed she was saving him the embarrassment of asking for Lipton with extra sugar.
“So, you’re the Harlem guy, huh?” she said.
“Well, I broker real estate in Harlem and all over Manhattan: Tribeca, SoHo, the Village, Upper East Side, Upper West,” he explained, adding, “and I am also a Harlem resident.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like you stepped right off of Madison Avenue. I did not know that people from Harlem were so stylish.”
She was more ignorant than he’d been expecting, but he reminded himself of the ten-million-dollar commission. Playing light and sweet, he said, “Oh, we come in all shapes and sizes up in Harlem.”
Dana looked at him with a blank expression, as if she hadn’t heard or understood, before bluntly asking, “So you really think you could get me thirty million for my building up there?”
With the utmost confidence, Manny replied, “I’m certain of it. I’ve had over fifteen years of experience in the business, and several of my clients have purchased property in Harlem. People find it very desirable for their personal residences as well as for their businesses. Some people also like to buy in Harlem for investment reasons.”
Apparently focused only on her agenda, Dana continued, “Tandy said you could guarantee me thirty million.”
Tandy had done her part; now Manny would take his turn at managing one of the most delicate moments in this nascent transaction. “I am extremely optimistic that I will be able to secure that amount for you.”
She regarded him skeptically for the first time and began fiddling with the diamond ring on her finger. It was at least ten carats. “Extremely optimistic?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, then. What about this agreement Tandy mentioned to me?”
Manny’s heart began to beat a little faster as he prepared to explain to this unsuspecting woman about the document that could make him and Tandy millionaires. But before he had the chance to speak, a black clay teapot was placed in front of him along with a matching cup. Nervously, he took the opportunity to pour himself some of the hot brew before working up the nerve to pitch her the idea of signing a net-exclusive agreement.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it’s called a net-exclusive agreement. Simply put, the contract would state the price for which you want to sell your building, which is thirty million; and the contract would also spell out that my firm would retain any amount received on the sale of your building above your stipulated price as a commission fee.”
“But you’ll get me my thirty million?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I don’t care what you keep as long as I get my thirty million.” The woman was fixated.
“Then you understand the net-exclusive agreement.”
“What you explained to me is all Tandy was talking about?”
“Yes, I guess it was,” Manny said, now understanding what Tandy had meant about her college friend simply wanting her thirty million.
“Well, that’s not so complicated.”
“The only other part is that my firm would receive the check for the sale amount in its escrow account, and we would cut you the check for thirty million immediately after the closing.”
“That’s fine,” Dana began, looking around the long tearoom as if the other patrons might be eavesdropping, “but I’m trying to keep this whole thing kind of quiet, you know.”
“Well, you realize that upon closing, your sale of the building will be a matter of public record. So I don’t know how quiet you’re going to be able to keep it.”
“But that won’t be until after I get my money, right?”
“Right, nothing will be publicly filed until after the closing.”
“That’s fine, but this net-agreement thing. What about that? That won’t tip anyone off, will it?”
“That’s a private agreement between my firm and you. No one needs to know about that but us, dear.” Manny was assuaging her fears and his own. She did not want her husband to get wind of what she was up to. And Manny didn’t want anyone to know about this illegal contract they were entering into. Discretion was best for them both. He judged by the expression on her face that she was ready to immediately move forward, but he dared not be presumptuous.
“When can you have all of the papers drawn up? Are there a lot?” she asked.
“No, just the net-exclusive and a power-of-attorney agreement to authorize my firm to receive the sale price in an escrow account. I could have them done tomorrow.”
“That’s a little soon. You have to meet Shuram Alita first. He’ll want you to do a cleansing before I sign anything.”
“A cleansing?”
“Yes, a shedding process, a purification. You don’t mind, do you? I no longer do business with anyone unless they have gone through a cleansing with me and Shuram Alita has met them.”
“Of course not. I could always use a good cleansing.”
“Me, too. Tandy will also have to be cleansed, since she introduced me to you. We’ll all do it together,” Dana said, licking her peach-colored lips. “So, I’ll be in touch, but I like you. I’m sure Shuram will like you, too—you have an inner light and nice taste in clothes.”
Only in Manhattan would the spiritually enlightened person equate one’s inner light with his outer attire. Everything appeared to be skin-deep these days in Manny’s world.