The Deal by Adam Gittlin

Author:Adam Gittlin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Microsoft

Chapter 29

I decided to head to the Madisons and check up on the progress of my deal. Once outside, I checked for the gun, which was in place. The sun was strong, so I put on my sunglasses, identified the shaded side of the street, which was another trick I learned from Pop when I was a kid, and headed uptown.

Park Avenue was bustling. The air outside was perfectly balanced and felt invigorating as it filled my lungs. Sharply dressed men and women were coming and going in all directions. Every important designer known to man was represented in some manner within eyeshot. Buildings that house the corporate headquarters for some of the world’s most vital, significant firms lined both sides of the street. Men with perfect haircuts barked into cell phones as women dressed in perfectly contoured, feature-enhancing business suits that showed just enough skin to keep the imagination churning gave eyes as they walked past. It was a needling tease, a harsh reminder of my usual Friday afternoons in the summer that consisted of deal making, “beautiful people” watching, and powerful commercial properties.

I made my way past the corner of 50th and Madison, only a few blocks from my destination. The smell of hot dogs from a vendor’s cart overwhelmed me as it hovered in the intersection like a mushroom cloud. I heard the growing rumbling of cars charge up behind me as the lights, in unison, turned green. I looked to my right. Half of the vehicles were assorted colors, half were the familiar yellow of a New York City cab. Then I almost slammed into one of my favorite types of tourists, the ones who, out of nowhere, decide to completely stop in the middle of a flowing sidewalk so they can wondrously look up at the surroundings. Part of me hated them while part of me envied their sense of wonder.

I walked into the classy, simple lobby of one of my deal’s two buildings. Just inside the revolving door I stopped, my shoes’ soles resting on the same gray, shiny marble that made up the rest of the three-story foyer. The calming, sturdy rock was laced with slight, faint white streaks. Two appropriately dressed men wearing blue suits—one a starter, or concierge, the other security—stood behind the centrally located concierge desk. Behind them on the wall was a huge oil painting of muted overlapping, black-and-white circles of all sizes over a gray background that matched the lobby’s hue. On the wall to my left, only feet past the entrance, was a flat, touch-screen building directory.

My needed senses, the ones I had put in my pocket for a few minutes, returned in a rush. Behind my glasses I took inventory of the lobby. Once I was comfortable, I took them off and headed for the elevators. My first order of business was to see how they were doing on the roof. I knew I would be able to find Ron, the chief building engineer, in the building office on floor twelve.

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