Chapter 23 #2
During my cram course of the history of Stonebridge, I learned that while Patrick was in a medically induced coma, Allen Foster was working a business deal with Helix Dominion. Stonebridge has made great strides in data-intelligence over the last few years.
On the outside, Helix seems legit. But when I read into their list of clients, they dabble in contracts around the world that are iffy at best—governments that like to act like democracies but aren’t. Governments who do not do what’s best for their citizens and are a cover for terror organizations.
I would know. I spent a career in the Army taking down filth just like them.
Allen Foster might be rotting away in prison, but the deal is thriving and set to be voted on by the board next week. And that deal on paper is worth so many millions, it’s closing in on a billion. When a contract is this big, it’s the board’s job to approve it.
Or kill it.
Foster might be put away, but it’s still being pushed through by Lex Warner.
He stepped in and positioned himself as the head honcho for the contract, and he’s spinning more side deals left and right.
If the contract is approved, word is he’ll resign from the board and align himself with Helix as their newest Vice President of intelligence.
Warner will go from a well-off man to a wealthy one.
So wealthy, it makes my new trust fund look abysmal.
I’m the wrench in this impending deal. While Allen Foster rots in jail, I’m stepping into his seat on the board. There are nine positions. Before I accepted the seat, they were split down the middle—four to four—on if the contract would go through.
The deciding vote is mine.
And four people in that room aren’t happy about it.
I look through the double doors from where we’re standing outside one of the smaller ballrooms where this shitshow is about to start.
Harlow, Chrissie, and Patrick stand next to me, ready to walk into what looks more like a war room than a ballroom.
The vultures are huddled and planning their attack.
“Which one is Lex Warner?” I demand.
Chrissie doesn’t mince words. “The one with the stick up his ass who’s looking down his pointy nose at the rest of them.”
I frown. “They all look like they have a stick up their asses.”
“Ew.” Chrissie’s face screws up as she stares at one of the cliques off to the side. “He just dragged the back of his hand across said pointy nose. Do not shake hands. I repeat, do not shake his hand.”
“He’s the one in the gold tie—the one on the late end of middle aged. You can tell he dyes his hair.” Harlow leans in and lowers her voice. “Oh great. Now he’s staring at us.”
Patrick turns his back to the room. “Warner is not the same man he was when we voted him in five years ago. That was before he was poisoned by Allen. Stonebridge has opened doors for him he never would’ve been able to claw through on his own had he tried.
He has more to lose than anyone. Once you get to a certain point, money is money, but this is more than that.
This is about power. This contract cannot go through. ”
I turn to Patrick. “So our goal is to go in there, slow shit down, and make sure we have the votes to block it?”
Patrick shakes his head. “By you joining the board, it slows it down. You’re a threat to side agreements that were never meant to see the light of day.
The four who are voting to work with Helix Dominion aren’t doing it for the merger.
They’re doing it for personal gain. The board didn’t used to be like this, but ever since I woke up from my coma, shit has gone sideways.
You think side deals are toxic in the halls of Congress, this takes it to another level.
The four who are against give a shit who we work with.
They’ve been on the board longer. Their reputations are based on Stonebridge moving to the next level with a moral compass. The rest, not so much.”
I slide my hands into my pockets and glance around the room.
Four men and two women all dressed for success.
I’ve read their bios and studied their backgrounds.
Aside from the few who have created conglomerates of their own, I’m shocked by the lack of experience in the same industry by the rest. One got his start in tech and there’s even a tenured professor from The George Washington University.
I don’t feel quite as underqualified as I did before even though I’ll be the only human in that room without at least one degree. I went straight into the Army. My education comes from the field—operations and reading others is from on-the-job, stay-the-fuck-alive experience.
Because if there’s one thing I do understand from working for the government my entire career, it’s oversight.
Before Patrick and Chrissie got here last night, I skimmed through enough of the proposed contract and saw none of it.
Interesting since a majority of Helix’s revenue comes from government contracts.
Everyone in the room breaks out of their individual huddles that make voting lines clearer than day. Patrick looks at his watch. “We know our roles. The sooner we can get this done, the better. Let’s do this.”
We file into the room and find a place at the conference table. Patrick takes a seat at the head and Chrissie settles herself in a chair off to the side. Harlow sits in the first chair next to Patrick, and I claim the place next to hers.
Patrick stands. “Thank you for coming so far. The circumstances are unprecedented, as both my daughter and son are recovering from surgery. These are important times for Stonebridge. Historical times. I’ll start by introducing my son and our newest board member.
Please welcome Jett Cross to the table. Chrissie sent you his bio.
Everyone has a flight back to New York today, so I won’t rehash the details. ”
Welcomes are murmured around the table.
I nod and turn back to Patrick.
He continues to lead the meeting. “When I started Stonebridge, it was important to me to leave a solid footprint behind me. Something I could be proud to leave my children. I’ve done just that.
We have other things to discuss today, but this meeting is not about sentiment.
It’s about the future of the company I built from nothing.
And yes, I’m going to be so bold to say, this is about succession. ”
A few of the members glance at one another. Even I’m surprised Patrick led with that.
Lex Warner is the only one who doesn’t mutter under his breath.
He speaks loud and clear. “With respect, Patrick, Stonebridge is a publicly traded company. Our responsibility is to the shareholders, not your heirs. Board members’ jobs are to bring experience and guidance to the table.
Your children aren’t qualified to do either. ”
I speak up, because I’m not about to be talked about like I’m not in the room. “I’ll win over the board sooner rather than later. I guarantee every vote I cast will be thoroughly considered and researched.”
Warner contemplates me like I’m a chewed-up piece of gum tossed to the gutter.
“I hope you can appreciate that we don’t have time for you to win anyone over by doing your due diligence with simple internet searches.
These are billion-dollar decisions, not one about which bunker to blow up next in hopes you take out a camel or two.
This is a world you do not understand. This company cannot afford to give up a seat on the board to Daddy’s long, lost son.
I mean, we heard there was a DNA test, but it hasn’t been proven.
You could simply be an imposter hired by Patrick to hold onto his power for the remainder of his life. ”
Harlow gasps.
The room is split. Half shift uncomfortably in their seats, while the other half try to hide how happy they are.
Me? I hike a brow and try to count the number of insults he just spewed toward me and my new family.
“Watch yourself, Warner,” Patrick bites.
“Watch myself?” Warner bites back. “You’re the one who has to fill seats in your favor to keep a grasp on power that’s been slipping through your fingers for far longer than even you realize.
We owe it to the shareholders to move this company and their shares into the future, and that future is cashing in on the data intelligence we’ve invested heavily in whether you like it or not. ”
Patrick’s glare on him intensifies. “My power is still mine. I hold a majority of the shares. Those shares will someday be Harlow and Jett’s. From where I stand, not an ounce of my power has slipped. Shareholders are at the forefront of every decision I make.”
“And yet, you just admitted that this was about succession—"
I hold up a hand to stop Warner right there. “Succession is much different than inheritance. Even someone who dabbles in which bunker to hit next knows that.”
Warner leans forward and doesn’t try to hide his irritation.
“We are days away from finalizing one of the biggest contracts Wall Street has ever seen. A transaction that will redefine us globally, and suddenly it’s all teetering on the vote of a new member with no history, no experience, and no understanding of what’s at stake. ”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I answer coolly. “I know exactly what’s at stake. The only difference is we have different priorities.”
“You wouldn’t know the fucking priorities of this company if they kicked you in the ass,” Warner spits.
Well, now.
I assumed boardrooms were classier than fucking and ass. It seems this isn’t anything different than a tanker or mess tent. “Go ahead. Explain your stakes.”
Warner acts inconvenienced and spews a quick list of facts with no supporting evidence. “This contract will triple net profit. Valuations will skyrocket.”