running the halls, fifteen-hour days, no weekends, plenty of canceled vacations. Ten years of midnight deals hanging by a thread, then trying to turn around turkeys we never should’ve gone near. You boys know the life.”
The three men nodded. Damn right they knew.
“I wasn’t burned out,” Jack continued. “But I can’t say I was enjoying myself, either. When Cauldron offered a fast-track partnership, I jumped at it. Understand, Cauldron is very laid-back, a low-pressure outfit. Lots of long lunches where drinking isn’t off-limits. Weekends are sacrosanct. The partners can often be found napping in their offices. And why not? Our investors are content with ten percent growth a year. They throw a wild bash for us if we hit fifteen.” He produced a weak smile for the hungry sharks across the table.
As he and they knew, at CG, ten would be a disaster. The directors would turn up the heat, pink slips would fly-life would become intolerable for the survivors. This had happened, once, only once, twelve years back. A painful recession had set in. Growth sank to a mere eight percent that year. Blank was the only one in the room with enough tenure to have lived through it. A bloodbath, 365 days of unmitigated terror, twelve torturous months without a day off, a full year of unbearable stress. His blood pressure shot up forty points. He still had nightmares about it.
“Sounds ideal,” Golightly commented, obviously not meaning it.
“Yes, doesn’t it?” Jack replied, matching his insincerity ounce for ounce.
“So why don’t you explain this irresistible offer you were bragging about?” Blank asked. Having cut Wiley down to size, it was time to cut to the chase.
“In a minute, Mr. Blank. Let me start by telling you, you’re not the only people I’m talking to. I developed a model. Four firms fell out. You’re one of those four and any or all of you could fit the bill. It doesn’t mean only four firms will do, but four of you are ideal.”
Casual nods from across the table. Standard fare, and also empty bluster. Nobody with a noodle of sense ever confessed up-front that CG was the only firm they were talking with. Offers always came juiced up with a little competition. The boys from CG heard it all the time. Nice try, Jack.
They nudged one another under the table and played along. “But we do fit the bill?” Blank suggested, straight- faced, as if there was any chance in hell they might not.
“You might even be the best fit,” Jack agreeably allowed.
“What a relief.”
“Should I go on?”
“Yes, do.”
Jack uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “It’s a company that came to my attention a few months ago. At first glance it looked like a perfect fit for Cauldron-midsize, profitable, well led, courting an infusion of capital. Their CEO and head financial guy were making the rounds through a few firms like ours. Call it a road show.”
“And you met with them?” Golightly asked.
A fast nod. “It wasn’t my meeting, but I was present, yes. Forty-five years ago, the CEO founded this company. Built it from scratch, the usual story, sweat, smarts, and his bare hands. His life’s work. He’s now in his late seventies, has two sons and a daughter. He’s in fairly good health, but a realist. He had two heart attacks in his late fifties. He quit smoking and watches the cholesterol, but long lives don’t run in his genes. Either of his children could succeed him. He wants to leave them set up for success.”
“So this company’s his property?”
“No,” Jack said. “Not exactly.”
“Meaning what?”
“It’s listed. A penny stock, though. Through his stock and a few friendly stockholders he controls slightly over half of the voting shares.”
Caldwell suddenly developed a deep frown. “If you’d done your homework, Wiley, you’d know we prefer private companies.”
“Who doesn’t? Less complications, less mess.”
“Plus,” Golightly-also frowning-stiffly noted, “it doesn’t sound like management wants to relinquish ownership. You mentioned that this geezer intends to hand it over to his kids. CG never shares. We buy it, and it’s ours to do with as we please.”
Jack leaned back in his seat. The legs crossed again. He smiled at the three men and let a little more cockiness show. “Do you want to hear the setup or should I find my own way out?”
“We’re asking fair questions,” Golightly replied. His tone made it clear he wasn’t the least bit apologetic.
“No, you’re nit-picking before you’ve heard the pitch.”
“No, we’re-”
“If I’m wasting my time, Brian, let’s call it quits now.”
Blank had cleared his calendar for this meeting. He had an hour to kill with nothing better to do. He cleared his throat and decided to hear him out. “All right, continue.”
“Good decision. As I said, this is a midsize company. About four hundred million in revenue, and fifty mil in profit two years ago. It’s lean and efficient, but competes in a low-margin business. They were asking for a hundred mil. See where I’m going with this?”
The three boys from CG exchanged looks that quickly turned into shrugs. No idea.
Jack smiled again, and exposed a little more of the chip on his shoulder. “I asked the CEO what he intended to do with the money. About half for plant expansion, a quarter to hire more salespeople, the rest for updating a few systems.”
“And what bothered you about that?” Golightly asked.
“According to him, his company was already clearing fifty million in profit annually. Do the math, Brian. That means a hundred and fifty million for investment, minimum.”
“So?”
“So, for fifty million they accomplish the same goals, without selling any ownership. For a hundred and fifty mil they could build an entire new company.”
This point seemed to arouse some interest. “You think he was hiding something?” Golightly asked.
Jack nodded. “I was sure of it.”
They focused on his lips and waited to hear what was being hidden. Come on, Jack, spill it, their eyes were saying.
Instead, Jack said, “I think I’d love a cup of coffee.”
3
The woman returned and filled three cups with coffee. The cups were fine china, boldly embossed with the large gold letters CG. Jack chose black and took his first deep sip; the coffee was watery and weak.
The accountant drank tea, no cream, no sweetener. He made loud slurping noises as he sipped.
Once they were settled, Blank decided it was time to shift control. He opened by asking, “If this is such an incredible opportunity, why aren’t your partners at Cauldron taking advantage of it?”
“May I be frank?”
“You better be.”
“Not a good fit, Mr. Blank. Cauldron never involves itself in unfriendly takeovers, for one thing.”
“Why not?”
“My partners regard it as unseemly. They’re pretty old-fashioned that way, and so are our clients. They don’t like getting their fingers dirty.”
By inference, the boys on the other side of the table had no compunction about wallowing in mud.
“If that rubs wrong, I meant no offense,” Jack added quickly, nodding contritely at the men across the table.
The apology was wasted-absolutely no offense had been taken.
“Are we the first firm you’ve approached?” Blank asked.
“Yes. But don’t think that means you’ll be the last.”
