The Darkest Hearts by Nelson George

Author:Nelson George
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Akashic Books
Published: 2020-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

THAT’S WHAT I LIKE

Din Tai Fung, a chain of exceptional dumpling spots, was dipping its toe in the Los Angeles market after many successful years in Taiwan. D had eaten at its flagship restaurant in Shanghai and had been knocked out by its tasty prawn, veggie, and pork specialties. When he’d discovered there was one located in an Arcadia strip mall, he’d made several pilgrimages out to that largely Chinese area of the Valley and was not disappointed.

When D found out that Kurtz’s office was located in Century City, he was overjoyed. Din Tai Fung had just taken over a large space in the renovated Westfield Mall, literally one long block away from the area’s twin towers. He didn’t know what Kurtz wanted or if there was really a deal to be made, but he was damn sure he was getting his dumpling game on. After a couple of plates of dumplings, any deal would just be the spicy sauce on his meal.

D brought along Marcy Mui, the young Chinese-Korean woman who was working as his assistant while developing her own management portfolio under D Management’s banner. She’d been recommended by Sun Hee Pak, a big K-Town businesswoman whose daughter, Michelle, D had loved and lost. But Mrs. Pak, never one to toss away a potential biz partner or client, remained cordial with D. So when he needed someone to go with Night on his early trips to Korea, Mrs. Pak recommended Marcy to him. Marcy had an undergrad degree in business administration, was planning to attend USC’s law school, and was working as D’s liaison with the Korean music business for his deals involving Night.

“I read Kurtz’s profile in Forbes,” Marcy said to D as they got ready to head over.

“And?”

“Seems to be moderate on every issue. He’s donated to both Dems and Republicans. For a big corporate dude, he’s surprisingly neutral politically.”

“You seem skeptical,” D said.

“Nobody with that much money lacks a political agenda. Not these days.”

“Do you have a problem with me meeting with him?”

“Not at all,” Marcy said. “If his proposition is beneficial for our client, then I support it. If this deal turns into something really good, maybe we can get him to donate to prison reform, gun control, and other issues important to Lil Daye’s fans.”

“Fine,” D said. “But let’s not get into that until we get this paper.”

Diversified International Brands had three floors in one of the Century Plaza Towers, a mini version of the late World Trade Center in New York. A perky brunette assistant named Ingrid guided them through smoky-glass doors down a long wood-paneled corridor lined with black-and-white photos of American West landscapes. D thought they might have been Ansel Adams pics but decided not to ask. He’d suddenly grown nervous and decided to save his limited introductory chitchat for the meeting with Kurtz.

Kurtz was in his late fifties and tanned, with gray hair, small eyes, and a lipless mouth. He was stocky, with the chest and arms of an avid weightlifter.

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