The next morning, she didn’t call Seek. She knew someone like him wouldn’t be impressed with a phone call.
Instead, Zelica went to the financial district in Midtown.
Seek’s office was in one of the skyscrapers—minimalist, cold, all glass and steel. Zelica, in her new clothes, simple but neat, contrasted with the setting.
“I want to see Mr. Seeku. I don’t have an appointment,” she told the receptionist.
“Mr. Seeku is busy, ma’am. His schedule is full for the next two months.”
“Tell him,” Zelica said calmly, “Zelica Okafor, owner of Okafor Legacy Holdings LLC, assets of 2,000 acres. This is urgent.”
The receptionist hesitated, but the words “2,000 acres” made her pick up the phone.
Five minutes later, Zelica was ushered into a corner office with a view of all of Atlanta.
Seek was a Black man in his mid-thirties. He didn’t smile. He wore a dress shirt with no tie, but he looked more formal than Quacy ever did in his suits. His eyes were sharp, analyzing Zelica.
“I only have ten minutes, Mrs. Okafor,” Seek said. His voice was deep and flat. “Okafor Legacy Holdings—dormant company. Agricultural assets. What is the problem?”
Zelica sat down without being invited.
“The problem, Mr. Seek,” she said, “is that this company just woke up. The assets are large, but I don’t know anything about pecans, peaches, or how to run it. And I have another problem that must be solved.”
“What problem?”
“My ex-husband. A developer in Atlanta. His name is Quacy. He demands a share. He doesn’t know about this.”
Seek raised an eyebrow.
“This is interesting. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to restructure this company from the ground up. Audit everything. Make it an active, modern, profitable company. And I want you to be my personal adviser,” Zelica said. “I want to know how to use this power.”
Seek stared at her for a long time.
“I am expensive, ma’am.”
“I know,” Zelica replied.
“I don’t deal with personal dramas.”
“I’m not asking you to deal with drama. I’m asking you to teach me how to win a business war. The drama is the bonus.”
Seek smiled slightly—his first smile.
“When do we start?”
“Yesterday,” Zelica replied.
Two weeks passed. Atlanta didn’t know what was happening behind closed doors.
