It’s Done

There was something special about Dade Eduardo Lord’s appearance— the way he’d write a check with his pricey pen and sign off on important papers that had crossed his desk requiring his signature to seal a pending deal. Dade Eduardo Lord loved money. In fact, he worshipped it. At a young age, he knew he was destined for greatness, so he’d determined the only thing he had to do was exhibit patience and wait for the right racket to come along.

Lord’s twelfth-floor Manhattan office was elegantly styled. His personal taste embraced clean, classical lines, furniture that was solid, luxurious, and durable. In many ways, he was old-fashioned in his acceptance and appreciation of history, its value in teaching him lessons he was quick to learn and retain. The old was evident also in his manner and sophistication and facile, easy way with language. Only, he was a modern man in his attraction to power and how to use it: his ruthless and overzealous will to win. It was a big reason why, as a black man, an African-American, his status was that of the founder of Precision Records, a heavyweight record company in the recording industry where his name not only stood out but also stood for something.

Lord’s sweet-looking, high-polished glass desk’s surface was clear of everything but immediate paperwork, a pencil and pen set, and one lone globe located right center of the desk. Several times a day, Lord stared at it as if he were out to conquer the world. Precision Records had maintained an international reputation. Its roster of rap artists consisted of international celebrities who’d created a sensation on two continents— Europe and Asia—and who’d generated big money for the company and, therefore, for Lord.

Visually, Dade Lord carried himself as if he were a man who ran a multimillion-dollar operation. Tall and handsome, he was brown- skinned with high cheekbones and light, powdery brown eyes that shifted perceptibly with either flirtatious import or menacingly or engendered an aura of calm and goodwill. As for his clothing, he was impeccable, a man who favored bow ties over ties and suspenders, taste aimed to please one man and one man only—Dade Lord.

Operating a record company meant daily headaches. But challenging problems were what Lord not only sorted out but also craved. The more difficult the problem, the more opportunities there were for him to demonstrate to his smart, effective staff beyond a shadow of a doubt who was the brightest lightbulb in the room. Why he was president and head honcho of Precision Records.