‘The guy thinks the United States is his fucking supermarket,’ Oberman said outraged. ‘He’s trying to buy Prime Radio and us and American Magazines at the same time? How much money does he have, anyway?’
‘Enough,’ said Bauer and LeBec together.
‘I would like to point out that Musica Entertainment is not an American company,’ van Rees added, with a sour look at Rowena. ‘Madam President may have forgotten it, working in New York for all this time, but Musica is incorporated in Holland.’
‘Will that make a difference?’ Oberman asked her, his brown eyes ignoring the rest of the executive committee. ‘Antitrust, I mean?’
‘Ask a lawyer,’ his president replied. ‘And ask an investment banker.’
Oberman nodded, and winced.
‘Are you OK?’ Rowena asked.
‘Sure,’ the old man said, grimacing a little. ‘Heartburn. I’m fine.’ He turned to the men around the table and waved ‘
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them away in a crabby gesture of dismissal. ‘We’redone for now, people.’
With a few ugly glances at their new president, Maurice LeBec, Hans Bauer andJakob van Rees left the room.
‘Rowena, can I see you for a second?’ Oberman asked,. putting a withered hand on her arm.
‘Sure,’ she said.
Josh glanced at the heavy, gleaming doors of the boar room, waiting until LeBec had completely shut them behind him. Then he said sharply, ‘Gordon, I don’t wan those guys within ten feet of our investment bankers.’
Rowena nodded, her shimmering hair swinging against the burgundy collar of the Herv Leger dress she’d for this meeting. They called Leger ‘the king of cling’ Paris, and the crossover number that hugged waist and accentuated her small breasts and the slight of her ass was no exception. Teamed with Versace sling backs and a thick gold bangle, the outfit was suitable for work, but it threw off a disturbing sense sexuality behind the neat tailoring and expensive fabric..
Oberman had managed a faint smile when he saw it; he
0 knew Rowena inside out and he knew it was a deliberate dig at the other directors, who’d made it obvious how unhappy they were at having to report to a female, especially one who was younger than they were.
The sensible fmale executive would have gone for ultra-conservative suits, boxy jackets and neutral colours. Rowena made a point of exaggerating her femininity - deal with it, boys. Oberman liked that; the kid had never been one to kiss ass.
‘I was thinking the exact same thing,’ she agreed, ‘They want to get bought out. Hans Bauer hates my guts.’
‘Yeah, well. He’s not gonna vote me Prom King either. Who are we hiring? Maughan Macaskill?’
‘They’ve been stalling me. I think someone else got in there first,’ Rowena answered.
He noticed she seemed preoccupied, the elegant fingers tapping aimlessly on the table, the green eyes clouded.
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‘Spit it out, babe,’ Oberman ordered, wincing again. ‘It’s just something Hans said about the other targets,’ Rowena said. She pushed her chair back. ‘I think I should make a few calls.’
‘Let me know as soon as you’ve decided on the investment bank,’ he said.
It wasn’t till Oberman got back to his suite at the Pierre and found his copy of Economic Monthly waiting for him on his desk that he realized, with a stab of apprehension, exactly what she’d meant.
American Magazines. They’re trying to buy American Magazines, Rowena thought, as she spun her Mercedes down Second Avenue.
It was late at night, and the city was melting into the bright lights of the traffic and neon billboards. She’d just come from a long dinner meeting with Barbara Lincoln, and it hadn’t.been encouraging.
‘We want you to have that keyman clause. We don’t want Josh Oberman to have to watch Musica go down the drain,’ her friend had told her over grilled pheasant at Lutce. ‘But the boys are having their moment in the sun right now. I can’t guarantee it’ll last for ever and I have to put them first. If Mansion Industries buy you out we are walking. Even if I have to split them up and re-form with a different name and a keyboard player.’
Rowena had shuddered. Musica without Atomic Mass was unthinkable.
I have to stop this from happening.
With a boss who’s too old to know what he’s doing, a board who are probably on Connor Miles’ s payroll’right now, and a company too small io resist this predator.
They’re trying to buy out American Magazines.
She just launched Impact there … she’s not gonna be happy about it…
She’ll tell me to go to hell.
I’d deserve it.
By the time Rowena had picked up her mail from the
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doorman, though, her mind was made up.
John loved her, and that was good. And she was fond of him. It wasn’t such a disaster.
But there had to be some passion in life. Something you love so intensely you would suffer any humiliation to hold on to it. Something that meant you were alive, not merely living.
And without Michael Krebs, Musica was all she had left. Rovena strode through the door of her up her coat and leafed through her messages. John. Josh twice. She could call him in the morning. Zach Freeman: called from Berlin to say hi. That was sweet, Rowenai thought, walking across the room to pick up the phone which had started trilling on her desk.
Who the hell would call me at half-midnight? Not
again … that guy doesn’t know the meaning of’unavailable’. ‘Hello?’ she said.
There was a split-second pause, and in that instant Rowena suddenly knew exactly whom she was speaking to.
‘Hello, Rowena,’ said Topaz Rossi.
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Nobody in the White Horse Tavern took any notice of them. Why should they? A mother-to-be and her friend
sipping fruit juices in the village on a summer afternoon. Which was exactly how they both wanted it.
‘Grill Room at the Four Seasons,’ Rowena had suggested. ‘You have to be kidding! Entertainment industry and Wall Street-we might as well put an ad in the Times,’ Topaz scoffed. ‘How about the River Cafe?’
‘I know too many people who lunch there,’ Rowena said. ‘Maybe we should go somewhere a little less obvious.’
‘Fine,’ her rival answered coolly. ‘I know the closest thing to a pub in the United States. In the Village. White Horse Tavern on Hudson Street.’
‘Tomorrow at three,’ Rowena agreed, and they hung up.
It was the first private conversation the two women had had for a decade.
Rowena dressed casually: black jeans, a white Donna Karan shirt, tan cowboy boots. She wondered whether or not to take her notes on Mansion House but decided against - if they didn’t wind up working together, Christ only knew what Rossi might do with the information. In the cab on the way there she wondefed about Topaz; it was amazing how their minds still worked the same way. She would have called American Magazines the next day if Topaz hadn’t reached her first. It was surely the only way. Musica Entertainment on its own couldn’t withstand a raider with such a huge capital base, and neither could American Magazines. But trying to buy both at the same
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time must be stretching Mansion. Maybe together they
could work something out.
Maybe.
Rowena couldn’t count on any more than that: a gut feeling that Topaz Rossi would fight as hard for her slice of American Magazines as she would for Musica. It wasn’t an ideal set of circumstances.
Two rivals who’d been publicly scrapping for years.
Two women only recently promoted to the tops of their respective trees.
Two executives with just a heartbeat’s really senior experience between them.
They might both be past thirty but in financial terms they were still kids. Green, wet behind the ears, whatever. No knowledge of investment banking. Diehard specialists in their own industries.
Creatives, for God’s sake. In a situation like this, that was
a dirty word.
Topaz stepped carefully out of the cab, tipped the guy ten bucks and sat down at the first table she could see. She’d deliberately arrived early; being there when Gordon arrived was just one more way of establishing primacy.
Weird, Topaz thought. I could have sworn Rowena was expecting that call.
But how could she?
Unless she was thinking the same thing. Unless she was planning to call me.
Topaz ordered a Caesar salad and fresh orange juice and considered American’s position: Sales were up, profits were up, market share was up. Under her personal scheme for the East Coast, they’d closed down three poor performers, including White Light, totally revamped a fourth - US Woman, now second only to Homes and Gardens in its market, taken Westside national and, of course, launched Impact-the debut of the decade, the reason Matt Gowers let her get away with so much.
She shook her head, wooden bead earrings swinging in
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the light breeze. No way Mansion House can outmanage us. This board knows exactly what it’s doing.
Santa Maria, she hated having to do this, hated it! As if twins and a takeover wasn’t enough! Now she had to arrange meetings with Rowena Gordon, too. A woman whose career she, Topaz, had personally blown away.
That had made them quits. She’d hoped that was an end of it. Yeah, of course she’d read about some consultancy in California, and of course she’d seen Rowena make president of Musica last month. But it hadn’t mattered to her, why should it? Rowena had got hers, and if she’d managed another resurrection more power to her. Topaz had other things to occupy her mind: marriage, the new directorship, the pregnancy, the takeover…
Past history. It had an annoying way of refusing to stay past.
With a slight intake of breath, she saw her old rival walking do;con the street towards her. Topaz waved; a short, tight movement, enough to show Rowena where she was. The other woman saw her and threaded her way through the wooden tables.
Christ! Rowena thought. Look at that!
Envy flashed through her. Topaz was hugely pregnant, beautiful in a plain black maternity smock that reached down to her ankles and bared her toned, tanned upper arms. She had her mass of red curls elegantly pinned on top of her head, sexy earrings dangling round her neck and a radiant complexion. As she shook.hands briskly Rowena saw the two rings, engagement and wedding, glint on Topaz’s left
hand. She flashed back to that handsome NBC exec, standing with his arm round Topaz at the Martins’ party,
and the sense of her own loneliness was rushing.
No time for that now, Rowena told herself.
‘I’m glad you came. I think American and Musica can be
of use to each other,’ Topaz said briskly.
‘I agree,’ Rowena said instantly.
For a second the two women looked at each other, and a thousand questions, remarks, accusations hung in the air.
4oi
Rowena Gordon looked away first. Obviously it would
be best if their business could be conducted without personal remarks of any kind, but Topaz was so magnificently, unignorably pregnant that she just had to say something.
She nodded at Topaz’s swollen stomach. ‘Congratulations. When is it due?’
‘Two months. Twins,’ she replied coldly, acknowledg
ing Rowena’s comment with the briefest inclination of the head.
‘What do you think we can do about this?’ Rowena asked, beckoning a waiter over. ‘The chicken salad and a glass of white wine, please. My guess is that we have roughly three weeks to put something together before our lawyers get thrown out of court.’
Topaz nodded. ‘We’re in the same position.’ She gave Rowena a hard look, as if assessing something, and then said,. ‘I have a different take on Mansion to some of my colleagues.’
Rowena smiled. The too. Like you believe surrender isn’t
the only option?’
, ‘Exactly like that.’
‘OK.’ Rowena ticked offthe possibilities on her fingers. ‘Offthe top of my head: we could merge; we could form a loose holding company for the purposes of this takeover, and buy enough communications companies to stop him buying us, because he’s a foreigner-‘
Like you, limey, Topaz thought but didn’t say so.
‘ - or we could do something like pooling our capital and implementing a stock repurchase.’ She speared a forkful of crunchy lettuce and croutons.
‘Merger doesn’t make much sense. We’ve got nothing in common.’
‘We’ve got Connor Miles in common,’ Rowena answered rather sharply.
‘You will never sell a merger to your board, Rowena, and
I know I won’t. Trust me on this. But financial partnership makes more sense.’
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‘You’ve got something in mind,’ said Rowena.
It wasn’t a question, it was a satement. She knew that look on Rossi’s face only too well - the exact same look she’d had as a student when she was about to nail some poor sonofabitch to the wall in Cherwell.
‘Ever heard of the Pac-man defence?’ Topaz asked shrewdly.
Rowena’s wine glass halted in mid-air. ‘You are fucking kidding,’ she said slowly.
Of course she knew what the Pac-man defence was - the prey turns round and swallows the predator. It had happened a few times in the billion-dollar-deal explosion of ‘8 and more often in the takeover frenzy that had gripped
Wall Street in the heady madness of the Reagan boom. Take Mansion Industries over?
‘I’m not kidding. We don’t have time for jokes,’ Topaz said impatiently. ‘I think it could be done. They’re getting greedy, they haven’t thought this one through. Entertainment might be a growth sector but they’re rushing into it; we’re two big organizations.’
‘And you think they’ve been neglecting their other businesses?’ Rowena asked, food and drink completely forgotten.
My God. What if it is possible? What if we could pull that off?. ‘Totally. This will be a disaster for them. Like Sorry and Columbia Pictures; they reckoned they knew how to run any industry, but films is too human, it has too many variables. Just like magazines,’ Topaz replied.