Chapters (37)
Ivan did get a chance to speak to her for a brief moment. And when they got her on the line over the office speakerphone, she exclaimed, “Oh, my God, it’s been so unbelievable! I thank all of you guys so much for giving me this opportunity to make it all happen. And I promise to stop by the office and visit you guys as soon as I’m able to break away from my work and get back home to San Diego.”
She continued, “But right now I’m just, like, swamped with so much modeling work. I’m doing an Elle magazine spread, and we’re in talks for the next Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.”
Ivan heard all of that and didn’t have much to say. She sounded like an overexcited kid.
I can never imagine Lucina sounding like that for anything, he thought. Lucina’s been there and done that already.
“Okay, well, don’t forget about us,” Ivan told Jacari.
“Oh, I won’t, I won’t, but I have to go now,” she told them.
Ivan looked at Paul and Jeff before they all grinned.
When they hung up the line with her, Jeff said, “It sounds like she’s really happy.”
Ivan said, “Well, I’m glad we were able to do that for her.” But he didn’t feel anything special toward her. Maybe next time, he thought of her. He never attempted to slide back to home base with Carolyn Padilla or roll in the hay again with Ashley, either.
Ivan had toned down all of his looseness and flamboyance to concentrate on making more millions. In his mind, two million was only a few deals away from four, four million was only a few more deals from ten, and ten million was a few more deals from a hundred.
Nevertheless, as he and Lucina remained hesitant to become anything more than business partners, all of Ivan’s new wealth and continued aspirations left him with an unsettled feeling of emptiness.
He told himself, Okay, I’m rich!…Now what?
Twenty
Business Never Stops
ABOUT A HALF MILE out from the Pacific Beach of San Diego in the early summer of 2005, Ivan cruised southward while sitting at the back end of a small yacht that had been loaned out to him from clients of Seth Gardner. It was a perfect sunny day in the high seventies, with soft winds in the air. Dressed in a light blue Polo tennis shirt and beige khaki pants, Ivan looked eastward and up at the mansions that were spaced out on the hills of La Jolla. He felt he needed a day off from the hustle and bustle of his new eighth-floor office space in the Mission Valley area. So he sailed out to think for a few undisturbed hours on the beautiful blue waters of the Pacific.