Raimon took a glass of diet soda; it was his only placebo now that he had entered a strict diet, although he could never give up hamburgers. He was a man of pleasures, and those pleasures were small. However, that was not important to Raimon at the moment, who for months had been carrying out commendable work in all his activities.
-—I can say it without any doubt. —replied the man in front of him, a man he did not know at first but had been getting to know over the past few months. He was one of those second-generation businessmen with a stick up his ass—smart enough to keep afloat the company his father and grandfather had built together, but a complete idiot in everything else.
-I control everything; you just have to talk to me about you. My business is a sauce compared to those damn agents you'll find elsewhere. —Chris replied, an arrogant and pedantic young man who seemed to care about nothing but his image. Raimon observed his expensive suit, his hundred-thousand-dollar watch, his smug posture, and his contempt for the waiters.
-Well, I'd like a meeting with your work team. I understand numbers better—do you have someone who handles the numbers? —Raimon asked.
Chris weighed his words. His brow furrowed. Raimon noticed and bit his tongue with a hint of stress. He had him now, and more than that, he would use this stupid mama's boy who barely knew how to run a company, and he would swallow his business the way a child takes candy.
-—Sorry! I don't want to be rude. Do you handle that yourself? The truth is, Billy never gets too involved in the whole operation; he's more of a vision agent. He commands, and we clean up. —Raimon replied.
—Yes, I have a few people. —Chris replied, now trying not to look offended. Raimon wanted to laugh, but instead kept asking about different branches while they finalized an acquisition-and-sale contract for land in various countries, since his previous agent had withdrawn from that sector—one Raimon considered unexplored. Now the matter was different, leaning toward the search for properties in paradise-like locations, using luxury hotels as a source of comfort and contribution to corporations. Meanwhile, Raimon, working with accountants, reported losses and used them as a cushion for his tax filings and expansion into different countries. For example, under the pretext of drug trafficking in Mexican and Colombian regions, he bought vast amounts of land—large plots—to build luxury hotels that attracted foreigners like smoke.
-Well then, I hope we do business over this. I want to buy. —Raimon pulled out a pen and a pencil. —Three hundred fanegas of land in Florida during hurricane season, or in places battered by hurricanes along the East Coast. I want to buy two islands in the Caribbean, Thailand, Singapore, Argentina, Brazil—Patagonia, actually—and New Zealand. In each place, I want prime locations near city centers or spacious areas surrounded by beauty to recreate a resort complex. —
TheParadise Hotell proposal was as follows: build large luxury hotels without brand names, and then merge operations with a resort or a Hilton line, which sounded marvelous. After that, what remained was simple.
Sell and sell—that was all that mattered now in regions that were booming, with prices becoming expensive for some, but according to Billy, everything else was complete nonsense because investments always carry risk, and when you invest in real estate, everything else fades into the background.
—Wow. —Chris sighed. It was a lot of money.
—How much money do you have right now?
—This is serious, Chris. We have more than enough to do good business. —Raimon replied.
…
Raimon ended his meeting, stretched his body, and made a call. He needed to call; it was necessary, now that everything was clear. The response was immediate.
-—So, what do you think? —
—He's a complete idiot. What the private investigator said is true—he has no fucking idea what he's doing, and it seems he leaves all the work to two people. Charles Kwai, an accounting expert who has worked as a business administrator for fifteen years, earns less than an average employee at our company, does the work of five people, and, on top of that,t is a real estate genius. Bringing him onto our team would be smart. The second is the vice president from his father's era, who is the real boss. I think stealing Charles is cheaper than anything else. We'll make a quick contract. —
—Wait until you hear me. —Billy interrupted.
-—Steal him? I want him to work for you. —Raimon replied. —A big contract that will give him an average of about 2.7 million dollars, and we'll steal their best employee so he can be your advisor on franchises and expansions. —
—Fine, do whatever you want. —Billy replied on the other end.
-—I'll do the same for Lux Films' production company. There's a good administrator who's been overshadowed for some time—a genius at handling the heavy work while others take the credit. —Raimon replied, thinking of the young man who worked at that animation studio, organizing logistics, coordinating thousands of teams for a company that failed to notice his talent. No creativity—hard and purely theoretical.
A man who only performs functions. With Billy at the helm, even if he had nothing but brainy types and people without a shred of creativity, he could still make something great with his sheer talent.
-I think that's good. Jim needs a replacement. —Billy replied, leaving Raimon cold. —Don't misunderstand me; the company will grow, and what Jim does, he'll be able to do elsewhere. We need human talent. —
...