4. Sean
Done and done.
Deal closed. Papers have been signed.
The meeting with Norman Whitman went off without a hitch.
I’m on a roll.
The board has been on my ass about closing the deal, and I’ll be glad when they can focus on other matters. Securing the other half of the Westerlyn Hotels is our top priority, and I have full confidence that we’ll achieve it. However, my father, Douglas Blackwood, the board’s head, isn’t exactly known for his patience. My relationship with him is strained at best. He’s always been more of a boss than a father, even before I started working alongside him.
Right on time, I stride into the headquarters of Blackwood Holdings Inc., a towering high-tech construction of gleaming steel and tinted glass. With our many hotel and resort properties spread across the East Coast, we set up shop in New York City because it made sense. Our first hotel was in the city. Understanding the power of NYC connections is fundamental in my line of work. Our company is proud to be located in one of the city’s leading high-rises, with the executive offices on top.
When I walk into my office on the polished granite floor, my personal assistant, Jasmine Williams, smiles up at me. She’s in her late fifties, always impeccably dressed, and her black hair is neatly tied up in a tight bun. Sometimes she acts more like a mother than an assistant, fussing over me and making sure I actually take my breaks and have something for lunch. But I let her get away with it because she’s a good worker.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood,” she says. “There are several messages in your inbox. The paperwork for the Westerlyn Hotels has been filed with Legal, and everything is set for the transition to Blackwood. Oh, and your meeting with the board is in one hour.”
“Good. Anything else I need to know?”
“Mr. O’Malley is back from his business trip.”
“Let him know I’m in. Otherwise, hold my calls.”
“You got it.”
I go into my office and close the door behind me. Outside, the sun is bright, and my view of the city stretches for miles with the cloudless sky. I ignore it, more interested in the steaming coffee cup on my desk. Some of the black liquid is downed in one gulp. I settle in my chair and pull over my work tablet to review some documents. These are the same papers I meticulously reviewed before signing off on the Westerlyn Hotels acquisition, but now, with the ink dry and the deal sealed, I revisit some of the financial reports and the property’s history.
Tomorrow, I’m headed to the hotel to meet the co-owner. While I’ve found that ninety-nine percent of partners who initially refuse to sell change their minds once they glimpse those zeros on the check, there’s no harm in fine-tuning my pitch and preparing for the next phase.
About half an hour later, my office phone rings. “What?”
My assistant’s voice comes through. “Mr. O’Malley is here.”
“Let him in.”
“Of course, sir.”
Knock-Knock. Knock-Knock.
The door of my office opens, and Connor O’Malley walks in. A tall, buff guy born and raised in Ireland, Connor looks like he would be more at home in a garage or as a nightclub bouncer rather than in an office. Because of that, a lot of people tend to underestimate him. He’s one of the slickest, smartest sales associates I’ve had on my staff. My closest buddy for at least a decade, he’s one of the few people in my immediate circle who I trust completely. I know that if I ask him to do something, he’ll get it done and get it done right.
“The meeting went grand. I’ve got those eejits eatin’ out of me hand,” he says in his Irish accent, his tone a mix of triumph and amusement, as he makes a jerking-off motion. With a sly grin, he plops onto the chair across from my desk. “Them seaside cabins in northern Providence are a sure thing. Sky’s the limit from here! How’s Westerlyn?”
“Whitman’s signed and sealed. Have the paperwork right here.”
“Grand job! Delighted the auld fella didn’t give ya any trouble.”
“Nah, I didn’t expect him to. He’s been ready to retire for eons. Told me how excited his wife is to spend her days on her own island off Bali.”
“What about the co-owner?”
“What about her? She can either get on board or sell.”
“Exactly. If she starts givin’ us grief, she can cop on or jog on.”
I shrug, pushing the paperwork aside and picking up my coffee again. “I’m prepared to handle anything she throws my way. From what I’ve gathered, her experience and negotiation skills pale in comparison to Norman Whitman’s. Once we extend an offer, she’ll be reaching for the nearest pen and saying sold!”
“You know what this calls for, don’t ya?” Connor grins wider, leaning back in his chair. “Pints. Tonight.”
I make a face. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh, come on! You’re never in the mood.”
“And yet, you always drag me along.”
“Because you’re no craic anymore, Sean. If I didn’t drag you out every now and then, you’d waste your life away workin’ and sulkin’. And sure what kind of friend would I be if I let that happen to ya?”
He has a point. I consider his offer as I sip the rest of my coffee. “I’ll think about it,” I say. “It depends on how my board meeting goes.”
Connor makes a face. “I forgot about that. It’ll be good to get your auld lad off your back about this deal.”
“You said it, not me.”
“Speaking of retirin’ dinosaurs, I don’t get why he’s still hangin’ in there. We both know you’ve been doin’ most of his work for years.”
“The pitfalls of working with your father.”
“And all the more reason for you to come out tonight. I won’t be takin’ no for an answer.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Connor sighs and shakes his head. He knows me well enough to not keep pushing. “Fine. Text me when you decide. I’ll be in my office.”
I don’t bother to reply.
As he leaves, I shift my focus to my computer. I have a few minutes before the meeting and want to review my notes. Numerous prospective clients have come in over the last few business days, and part of my job is to filter through the mess and assign hot leads to my staff. The larger we grow, the easier we can negotiate. Blackwood Hotels Resorts is one of the largest privately owned hotel chains on the East Coast. Recent acquisitions and publicity have catapulted us into the public eye, and if we’re not being sought out to sell to and cash out, we’re doing the seeking. Like Norman.
It’s my primary goal to have our name rival Hilton—and Rutherford Plaza Hotels. With my leadership, I can see that becoming a reality within the next five years.
It could be sooner if my father would give me the reins.
Even after steering the company from millions to billions over the past decade as CEO, I still need board approval for major decisions. With my father as Chairman of the Board of Directors, clashes are inevitable. While the board members have a say, they typically defer to him, given his founder status. It’s damn frustrating, but that’s just how it goes in our corporate landscape.
Iwalk into the conference room to find him already there. He sits at the head of the table, his white hair meticulously groomed, papers placed around him.
“Morning,” I say, taking the seat at the opposite end of the table. I only have my phone and my tablet, and I put both on the table, suppressing the urge to lament the unnecessary waste of good trees.
One of the first things I did when I stepped into his shoes as CEO was go paperless. It felt like waving goodbye to the dark ages. Despite the millions we’ve saved and the streamlined work processes, my dad, Douglas “Boomer” Blackwood, seems to be oblivious to the benefits.
“Did you get the signature?” my father asks, not bothering to look up.
“He signed the contract this morning.”
“And the co-owner?”
“Not going to be a problem,” I say. “When we meet tomorrow, I’ll be able to convince her to sell. She doesn’t have much experience and will no doubt be drowning very soon.”
Dad finally tears his gaze away from his forest of paperwork only to fix me with a hard stare. “So, you’re telling me that you haven’t closed the deal then?”
“That’s not what I said. I just told you the deal is done. Weren’t you listening?”
“Oh, I was listening. And what I heard was that you’re only half-done. Buying out one of the partners doesn’t mean the deal is done.”
I pin him with a glare. “It’s only a question of when, not if. We’ve done takeovers like this many times before. Some partners sell right away, others hold out, hoping for a better deal. But in the end, they always come around.” The moment she catches sight of the figure we’ve handed Norman, she’ll be keen to negotiate until we find common ground, and from there, it’ll all be smooth sailing. “I’m not worried.”
“You should be.” Dad gets to his feet and starts to pace. “Do you know how I became as successful as I am today?”
“Well, you’ve certainly kept that story under wraps,” I quip, hinting at the countless times he’s shared it before.
Dad pauses, facing the expansive windows that only the upscale rooms in the building have. He glares at me over his shoulder. “Save your witty comments for your clients, Sean. They didn’t amuse me when you were a teenager, and they don’t amuse me now.” He gazes out the window once more. “I started this company from nothing. Poured my heart and soul into it…”
I tune him out after that.
True, my father founded and ran a good company. However, it came with a cost: the cost of any kind of relationship with his only child.
“…and I made it what it is today,” he finishes his speech.
I bark out a laugh. “That was ten years ago. We’ve acquired well over a dozen new properties in the last two years alone, and we’re on track for our most profitable year in this company’s history,” I bite out. “Brush me and my accomplishments off all you want. The numbers speak for themselves.”
My father waves his hand dismissively. “Well, son, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be where you are today without my guidance,” he says, taking his seat again. “Your track record aside, this deal of yours won’t officially be considered done until you’ve bought out both partners.”
Silence and tension settle between us. We’ve been this way ever since my mother passed away when I was thirteen. It’s like we’re stuck in this perpetual standoff, unable to bridge the gap that her absence left behind.
A few minutes later, the conference room door opens, and the board members start to trickle in. After giving the update on my deal, the other board members parrot my father’s sentiments. Predictable as ever. They’re waiting for the complete buyout before breaking out the champagne. As always, I’m all geared up to silence the skeptics.