Carlita settled into the seat next to her. “Hopefully, we won’t have to wait too long.” She reached for a copy of the Savannah Today magazine and began flipping through the pages while Mercedes turned her attention to her cell phone.
They sat for well over an hour before the receptionist made her way over. “You could be here for a long time.”
“We’re in no hurry,” Mercedes said. “We have all of the time in the world.”
“It’s Saturday and we close at two o’clock.”
Mercedes set her phone in her lap and gave the woman her full attention. “I intend to see Mr. Pridgen today if I have to stay past closing.”
“Suit yourself.” The woman marched back to her station, plunked down in her seat and frowned at Mercedes.
Mercedes returned the look.
“Whoever blinks first,” Carlita muttered.
The sharp click of high heels drifted from the hall and two men, accompanied by a dark-haired woman, emerged.
Carlita immediately recognized one of the men as Pridgen, the same man she saw the night in the Black Stallion club during a recent stakeout.
The trio made their way to the door. Pridgen shook hands with both of them. “I’ll be in touch early next week.” He waited for them to exit the office before making his way to the reception desk.
“These ladies,” the woman pointed to Mercedes and Carlita, “are waiting to have a word with you.” The receptionist handed Pridgen a file folder. He flipped it open and then closed it before speaking to the woman in a low voice.
Pridgen tapped the tip of the file folder on the desk before slowly turning and making his way across the room.
“Mrs. Garlucci?”
“Yes.” Carlita stood. “I’m Carlita Garlucci and this is my daughter, Mercedes.”
“My receptionist, Debbie, told me you’re anxious for an answer on your business application. We can go over it now. Follow me.”
Pridgen didn’t wait for a reply. He turned on his heel and began making his way down the hall. He stopped in front of an open door and motioned them inside. “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you for taking the time to see us without an appointment.” Carlita eased into the closest seat and Mercedes sat next to her.
“I see you’re looking to open a…” Pridgen peered at the application. “Graffiti art studio.” He flipped the application over. “You live in Walton Square?” He shifted his gaze, peering at Carlita over the top of the paper.
“Yes. We do,” Mercedes said.
“And you already have several businesses…Savannah Swag Pawn Shop, you own several apartments, and you were just approved for a restaurant venture, Ravello, also located in Walton Square.”
“That’s correct,” Carlita confirmed.
Pridgen dropped the sheet of paper and leaned back in his chair as he studied the women.
Carlita’s first thought was that he was sizing her…sizing them up. “You bought the old Delmario place last year.”
“Inherited,” Carlita corrected.
“Inherited the Delmario property.” Pridgen tapped the front of his chin with his middle finger. “I’ve heard your name before - Garlucci.” The name rolled off Pridgen’s tongue. “You moved here from New York.”
“Queens to be exact. What does this have to do with our application?” Mercedes was beginning to lose her patience.
“Nothing really. Just curious. Rumor has it you’re investing in Pete Taylor’s pirate ship, which, by the way is currently on hold.”
“I’m aware of that,” Carlita said stiffly. “As my daughter pointed out, none of these things - my other businesses, my inherited property, our interest in opening a graphic art studio…”
“Graffiti,” Mercedes interrupted. “Graffiti, not graphic.”
“I find it intriguing a single woman would move to Savannah and start opening all sorts of different types of businesses, all within a relatively short period of time and all needing substantial amounts of capital.”
“We’re savvy businesswomen,” Mercedes said. “Savvy enough not to put all of our eggs in one basket.”
“Diversifying is always a smart business decision. I have a little friendly advice.” Pridgen smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. “Savannah is a small town with many area residents and business owners who have lived and worked here for generations. They take note of newcomers, especially ones who move down here from up north. Add to that the newcomers have wads of cash to invest. It piques the interest, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s no one’s business where we get our money from,” Mercedes snapped. “Those folks would be better off minding their own business.”
Pridgen ignored Mercedes’ rant. “As much as I would like to give you a definitive answer this afternoon, I’ll need to gather some additional information, a better description of the business, along with projected income. Once I get the information, I’ll present it to the business development’s board of directors for final approval.”
“Fine,” Mercedes said. “We’ll be happy to give you everything you need.”
“I’ll have Debbie at the front desk give you a second form you’ll need to fill out.” Pridgen stood - his signal the meeting was over.
Carlita began to panic. The meeting wasn’t going as planned. She hoped to glean clues to figure out if Pridgen was involved in Lawson’s attack.
Desperate to continue the conversation, she said the only thing she could think of to catch him off guard. “How is your casino boat project progressing?”
The question did the trick. Pridgen paused. “It’s still in the planning stages. Are you asking because you’re interested in partnering on that project, as well?”
“Maybe,” Carlita fibbed.
“We have all the partners we need for the casino boat. If we decide to add more, we’ll keep you in mind.” Pridgen led them to the front desk. “Debbie, could you please give Mrs. Garlucci a copy of the business application Form B?”
“Of course.”
Pridgen turned to Carlita and Mercedes. “I’ll get
