The contract and the transfer deed were ready on the table to be reviewed and signed. I noticed that there were Montblanc Rollerball pens next to Mr. Goldberg’s and my copies. My father liked those. Being one of the old-school pen lovers, he preferred fountain pens though. I picked it up and looked at the assistant.
“A small gift from Mr. Shannon,” she said with a smile.
I nodded and looked at Mr. Goldberg. He was happy with it. We both were.
“Shall we sign now, or should we wait for Mr. Shannon?” I asked, unscrewing my new pen’s cap.
“Mr. Ford here,” she pointed at a man in blue jeans and a lighter blue blazer over a black T-shirt with a tiger print on it. “He will sign the contract on behalf of the company, but you can sign it first,” she said.
So we did. No fuss. It took a minute. The deal was half done. Then Mr. Tiger-on-my-T-shirt signed his copies.
“The keys will only be handed to the buyer once the paperwork and money transfer have been completed, which will take a few weeks,” the assistant stated, collecting their copies of the documents. “Mr. Shannon, however, is willing to wait for a month or more to give you sufficient time to relocate your belongings.”
“That’s very generous of him,” I said, putting away my new Montblanc.
“Congratulations on the sell, Mr. Montague,” she said, smiling. “I’m sorry that Mr. Shannon couldn’t be here. I just got a message from him. He was held in a different meeting, but he sends his regards.”
“Well, he’s a busy man,” I said, smiling back. I did not really care about Jared’s presence. I had what I wanted, and it seemed that he had what he wanted. We did not have to be in the same room to share our experiences.
I stood up and noticed a CCTV camera under the ceiling with the red light on. Were we being watched?
***
It was almost lunch time when we stepped out of the building. I put my Louis Vuitton sunglasses on to protect my eyes from June’s bright sun.
“Do you want to have lunch?” I asked Mr. Goldberg.
“Sure,” he said and put on his Ray Ban Aviators that made him look like a spy. “You’re paying, aren’t you?” He bared his white teeth in a greedy smile.
I nodded.
“In that case, let’s go someplace fancy and celebrate the deal.” He patted me on the shoulder.
“Absolutely. You pick, and I pay.”