Offerings (18 page)

Read Offerings Online

Authors: Richard Smolev

Tags: #fiction

Kate pinched Sarah’s big toe. “Tired?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You’ve said very little about camp since you’ve been back. Everything okay?” Sarah had been enthusiastic during parents’ weekend. It was a blur of one exceptional concert after another, or even better, small impromptu groups jamming for the sheer love of the moment. Sarah was one of the younger kids there. Kate thought she had struggled a bit to keep up with the others, but said nothing to either Sarah or her counselor.

“It was fine, really. It was fine. I’m just getting used to being back here.”

Kate lingered. She wondered if some mother-daughter heart-to-heart would unfold if she waited long enough. They had the sex talk and the respect-your-body and the no-means-no-talk when Sarah was ten. Sarah always was so open with Kate. Her brooding silence worried Kate as much as it surprised her.

Sarah fluffed her pillows behind her back, as if she were getting ready to talk. She bent her knees and clasped her arms in front of her shins. “Listen, Mom. I was thinking of taking some time off on the cello this year. Can we stop my lessons for a few months?”

Of all the things Sarah might have said, that was the last thing Kate expected to hear. She took her time to respond, because she wanted her reaction to be measured. “I’m sure we can work something out with Dr. K., but what’s behind that comment?”

Sarah sat up on her bed. “I know what’s going on, Mom. Google Ascalon or either one of your names and you get a million hits.” Her eyes widened. “My, God. Dad’s company is filing for bankruptcy. He’s leaving us. And all those lawsuits. The government is all over what you found out about the guys you worked with. It sounds as though your business may be in as much trouble as Dad’s. The last thing you need is to spend a thousand dollars every month on my lessons.”

“Maybe I should buy a V chip instead. You’re reading way too much into these stories.”

“How can you say that?”

“Dad’s company is going into bankruptcy so it can be sold without the creditors coming after the buyer. It’s no big deal. His living in China for a while will be tough on all of us. I’m not going to pretend it won’t be. And don’t worry about the rest of the headlines. We’ll be fine.” Kate tickled her daughter’s knee. “It’s sweet of you to offer to give up your lessons to save us a few dollars, but not to worry, sweetie. You go right on with your dream.”

Kate shook her head. “I can’t imagine this house without your music.”

“Will we even be able to keep the house? I looked up the mortgage. I can’t believe how big it is.”

Kate regretted voting for the bond issue that allowed Westchester County to put its records on line. “It’s a big mortgage because it’s a big house, Sarah. But don’t be frightened by things you don’t really understand.”

“But Dad’s losing his company.”

“He’s not losing it. Ascalon is being sold, yes. And Dad’s going to be paid very well when the sale goes through and for the time he spends in China. And I have a job most people would kill for. We’re not going anywhere.”

Kate waited. “Is there anything else?” Sarah sat silently for a moment and then shook her head. Nothing had been resolved. Kate was reluctant to leave the discussion in limbo. “I’m here whenever you want to talk, Sarah.”

Sarah’s body shook lightly. She was beginning to cry.

“I’m not good enough. I’ll never be as good as some of the kids at camp. There’s no point even trying to pretend.” Sarah threw herself on her pillows. Even as a young girl she had been both graced and cursed with a fragile delicacy.

“I certainly wouldn’t say you can’t hold your own against the competition, sweetie. I saw how well you compared at camp, even to the kids who were much older and much more experienced.”

Sarah gulped her words through her tears. “The counselors told them not to show off and to embarrass the rest of us on parents’ weekend. There was a ten-year-old girl from Portland who already soloed with the Sydney Philharmonic. Who am I kidding?”

Kate remembered the girl. She was small, with intense dark eyes, and black hair down to her shoulders. She had long fingers and swept along her cello’s neck with restless precision. No mother sends her kid to Interlochen without the little voice in the back of her head wondering where her child stands in the pecking order. Music, like Wall Street, is a cutthroat world. You need to size up the competition early.

“Sarah, she’s one musician. The world is filled with concert halls.”

Kate rubbed Sarah’s back. She could feel the strength of her muscles, honed by all those hours of bowing and leaning into her instrument.

“You read about everything Dad and I are going through, but you haven’t seen either one of us quit, have you?” Peter and Cass had come up with the cash to keep the lights on until the Chinese said yes. Kate wouldn’t let him touch their money this time so he sold his Martin guitar and the share of the Park City condo he bought with Cass in the halcyon days.

Sarah reached for a Kleenex from a white box next to her bed. “Is Dad really coming back to us after he works in China?”

The comment caught Kate short. “Of course. Why would you ask that? Has Dad said anything to you that suggests otherwise?” The idea that Peter might say something to Sarah to stir these fears was unthinkable.

“I have so many friends whose parents are divorced I’ve lost count. I don’t know why people bother getting married in the first place.”

“Don’t talk like that. Your father and I aren’t getting a divorce. He’s going to be overseas on business.” If Sarah defined Peter’s leaving in terms of a divorce, how would the rest of the world view this separation? Was Kate even credible?

“Mack hates the idea, too.”

“Of course he does. I’m not happy about it either. But I’m counting on you to help me get through the next year, Sarah. I’ve still got an awful lot on my plate. We’re going to get live-in help, but Mack really will need the two of us. So be good to your little brother and cut him some slack when he feels down. And help out with Siena. She’s going to miss running with your father. Mack will be fine. We’ll all be fine.”

“A lot on your plate? Does that mean you’re still running around like crazy on the same deal that took you all over the world before we went to camp?” Sarah asked. Kate nodded. “And are you still in the running for the top job at Drake after you exposed the top guy?” Kate nodded again. “Your name was all over the papers.”

“All in a day’s work, Sarah. All in a day’s work. Hey, they spelled Brewster right. That counts for something.”

Sarah looked pensive. “I swear, Mom. I don’t understand what keeps you going.”

It was a question Kate asked herself any number of times over the years, when she was on her way up, and now, even more when she was on the way down. She had never really found an acceptable answer; she just always found herself at the next place, like her mother after her father died.

She kissed Sarah on the cheek. “What keeps me going? You. Mack. Dad. All of us, Sarah. I’m doing this for all of us.”

THIRTY

Jack called Kate into his office.

“We’re officially in play, Kate.” Jack inhaled deeply, as if it took every ounce of his energy to get the words out. “I’ve fought these battles for years, but never once did I think Drake would be on the receiving end of a hostile tender offer.”

Clive was standing at the window with his hands folded behind his back.

Jack handed her a letter on Keiffer Benedict letterhead. Keiffer offered three dollars a share for one hundred percent of Drake. Jack looked as though some doctor had just told him he had an inoperable tumor.

“Conklin’s a son of a bitch. He thinks our shareholders will panic at the news Kate broadcast and jump for the first dollars thrown at them.” Kate let the broadcast comment go. Pushing back at Clive would only turn the conversation toward her, at best.

To the bankers and lawyers and financial advisors of all stripes, the words
tender offer
are like a Code Six in a hospital emergency room. Teams don’t snap into action with paddles to jolt patients back to life, but with briefcases and canvas bags with their logos stitched on the side filled with spreadsheets, complaints, poison pills, press releases, letters to shareholders, and anything else they can cram into their arsenal. But to the target, there’s blood in the water and it’s your blood.

“Even with what we’re going through we should be able to garner nine or ten a share if we were forced to sell.” Clive had already cranked up the top securities team from his old firm to begin firing scud missiles at Keiffer. “Fucking bottom-fisher.”

“Name calling won’t get us anywhere, Clive. Mike’s simply being opportunistic.” Jack’s voice sounded as though he’d already thrown in the towel. “He knows how to unlock value in under-performing companies and Lord knows, at the moment, we fit into that category. We trained him a bit too well, I’m afraid.”

Jack put his hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Our job now, though, is to show the board and our shareholders we’re worth more as a standalone. Unfortunately, Kate, given the paucity of our inventory at the moment, that increases the pressure on us for successful consummation of Mr. Franklin’s offering. Let’s put you in charge of delivering some good news in that department while Clive and I conspire about how to hold off Mike.”

It wasn’t a tall order. Even if Kate wasn’t getting her children ready for Peter’s taking off to China in less than a month, it was an insurmountable order. “From your mouth to God’s ear, Jack. We’re dead in the water right now. After the mess Steve made of our meeting with Marta and Eric Hirsch, I doubt I could get them to return my calls or to answer my emails unless I’m handing over the painting without conditions or keeping it in the deal on terms they find acceptable. I can’t do either one without Chris by my side.”

“Now’s not the time for alibis, Kate. You must find a way to get the deal done.” Jack’s comment was more a plea than a directive.

Kate played out the meeting with the Hirsch family (if she were lucky enough to have another meeting) a hundred times.

“Have you talked to Franklin about this?” Jack asked.

Kate responded, “So many times I’m getting close to the point where he won’t take my calls.”

Clive went behind Jack’s desk to his computer. He started scrolling through Majik’s file. “What’s the due date on that loan we gave him? Shouldn’t it be coming up shortly?”

“Twelve days, but it’s worthless unless he completes production and gets his games in stores.” Kate continued. “Right now, our eleven million dollars is secured by a bunch of chips and partially wired memory boards scattered on workbenches in Boulder.”

“Sure, but we could force him into bankruptcy if he doesn’t cooperate. That has to get his attention.”

Kate chose not to debate the public relations aspects of bludgeoning one of the firm’s few active clients to death. She assured them both she understood Jack’s message and would talk to Chris as quickly as circumstances permitted. It took a couple of hours for him to call her back.

“Chris. Hi, it’s Kate with my periodic nag about whether you’re going to let me hit the send button on my offer to the Hirsch family.”

Clive had said he hated the idea of spending the kind of money it took to have his old law firm prepare a bundle of papers that did nothing but hand the painting to this family on a serving platter.

“And I must tell you, our general counsel is making noise about finding two other creditors to join Drake in throwing Majik into bankruptcy,” Kate said.

“Tell the son of a bitch to rent a U-Haul and come pick up all the wires and boards he wants and good luck.”

“Am I supposed to disagree with either part of that sentence?”

“It’s your company, Kate.”

“Listen, you and I are now both victims to the kindness of strangers, Chris. You’ve got the note to deal with and I’ve got a tender offer and a husband about to disappear into Inner Mongolia until at least the end of next year.”

“I read about Ascalon. At least your husband found a face-saving exit. I may not be so lucky.”

“My family is somewhere between luck and is this really happening to us? My kids are like zombies.”

“And about the tender offer part of that sentence, I should tell you that Mike Conklin called me.”

Kate wasn’t surprised. War means war. “Does Keiffer have any ideas I don’t or is Mike just poaching?”

“He’s not the best friend you have.” Chris paused. “But at the same time, he didn’t say he was able to get my deal done. Where does this end, Kate? Drake is by far my largest creditor, but I can’t imagine even your guy threatening bankruptcy wants me to hand you the keys to my plant.”

“There’s still my idea about offering the painting, Chris, but I need you by my side. There is no way around it.”

There was a long silence before Chris spoke. “And Plan B?”

“The only thing I think B stands for is Barcelona. Say yes, Chris. I have the email on my screen. For both our sakes, let me hit the send button.”

Kate reread the documents Barrington & Carlyle prepared, just as she read them every day for three weeks. They felt less like an abstract idea and more like a prayer for reconciliation now that they actually could go on their way. The moment Chris agreed, Kate closed her eyes and wished her words Godspeed when she clicked her mouse.

 

 

Marta and Eri
c:

I wish to apologize once again for the pain our recent meeting caused you. It was wrong of me not to think of your perspective, but I have done little else since our meeting. I presume you’ve read the news about Steve Reed.

 

 

Kate added that sentence after Clive signed off on the email. She was numb to the idea that Big Brother now had to approve even simple transmittal letters.

 

 

I have spoken with the owner of the painting that once belonged and rightfully may still belong to your family. While these questions always are surrounded with uncertainty, he has agreed to return the painting to your family without question. I don’t want you to be offended that I again ask your indulgence to allow the painting to be used to facilitate a business transaction, but there is a way the transaction can be carried into effect and the painting still returned to your family at no risk or cost to you. It would mean a great deal to over one hundred families if you would consider this request. I urge you to consider the interests of the employees of the company who are counting on this proposal being accepted as you review these materials.

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