Chapter 2 #2
“I’m not your brothers. They won’t give me that technology. I can only listen in on the company landlines, as you know.” He points imperiously at me. Who employs whom at this firm? “I just know she probably told you to stop ringing her, or stop the bulldogs downstairs calling her.”
He stands next to my bookshelves and manoeuvres a framed photo of my sister Evie and her little kids half a millimetre to the left.
He keeps his back towards me as he talks.
“They all know how much you want that building. You’ve turned it into a competition for them.
They’re all trying to please you. You need to call them off. ”
He spins to face me and heads towards another photograph, this one of Evie’s older boys, James and Bucky, on stage at Wembley.
They’re in a band. A very famous band. He pauses and stares at the incredibly good looking young men.
James is the lead singer—like his daddy.
Bucky, the drummer. He sighs as he looks at them, then says, “Otherwise, she’ll call the stalking police, and we’ll have to explain.
” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Yet again, about your over-exuberance when trying to buy things.”
Sweet baby Jesus, I don’t think I get that obsessed, but evidently I have. If the whole of my team is phoning the poor woman, no wonder she’s pissed at me.
“Well, tell them to stop. I can handle it myself. Thank them for their efforts on my behalf, but I’ll just have to settle for a strategic monthly check in. Put it in my diary.”
I watch him float around my office. He’s moved onto Jackson's photographs now. “Does every male in your family have movie star looks?” He’s tracing Jackson’s muscles. I clear my throat, so he knows he’s gone too far, and his hand snaps away from the photograph.
“Yes. But the most beautiful at the minute is my little niece. She’s a stunner.” Smiling, I pick up the framed photograph of my sister with her little girl, Rio. Everytime I look at it, I smile. How did we get so lucky?
I had the privilege of helping my sister bring her older boys up.
She had James really young, and we all moved to London with her.
Lived together, brought him up, adopted Bucky.
Worked together, built our business. Only in the last few years has she gone it alone, her love of old buildings sending her down another path from ours together.
But she keeps her fingers in lots of pies.
Mine included. And I’m grateful for her help and support. It’s a huge company we built together.
“I love this one of your youngest brother with his son.” Brandon picks up Jonno’s photograph with his newborn son, Seamus.
“Normally he looks like the grim reaper is his best mate. Comes in here breathing hellfire and brimstone. But this makes him look almost human.” Brandon grins, and I have to agree with him.
Seeing the loving smile on my brother's lips as he looks down on his son… It’s the best thing I’ve seen in a long while.
“And we’ve got two more coming soon. Very soon.” I look at him, checking out all the photographs. I’ve got another niece and nephew on the way—fraternal twins, my sister again. “End of January, beginning of February. Did you clear my diary out? I’ll go to LA as soon as they’re born.”
He knows the drill. Work is important, but family comes first. Maybe that will be the perfect time to take stock. Make a few decisions on that building. To walk away or go really really big. Make life changing offers.
“Did you look at their accounts?” I ask Brandon. He’s a wizard at company balance sheets. It’s partly why I keep him around.
He half laughs, but there is no mirth there. “Shockingly bad.” He comes and stands next to me at the window. “Synergy is losing money.” He sighs. Neither of us glory in things going wrong for people.
“How long do you think she’s got before she stops haemorrhaging money, and bleeds out?” I ask, no pleasure in that fact.
“If she can get more business through the doors, she might be fine,” he states with a little tinge of hope in his voice. I think he likes her.
“Yeah, if she can hang onto them. Are you looking into the upmarket recruiters who are stealing her clients?” I snort out in disgust. “I might be sharp practise at times, but that lot are a set of sharks—undercutting, blatant poaching. But they have bigger margins, so it’s a game of scale and she’s a minnow getting eaten up. ”
“Whether they keep them long term is debatable. She gives good service, but they might not come back quick enough to save her business.” He sounds morose. Like he truly wants her to succeed even though he has absolutely no stake in her achievement. Or her failure.
I look sadly at the building. Even though I don’t want it there, I feel for anyone who is struggling and working hard to build a business.
It takes guts and perseverance. I don’t like it when people try hard and are failing.
But I can’t afford to be sentimental. Maybe after I come back from LA, from seeing my sister, it’ll be time to up the stakes.
Ms Lincoln will get a tonne of cash. Enough she can go live peacefully with her three boys, never having to work again.
And I’ll get to knock the building down, extend the gardens.
VVIP parking. Win-win. It’s my go-to in business.
Over the next few days, I try periodically calling Emma Lincoln, but no joy. According to her team she’s always out in meetings. But I know that’s a lie, as I’ve seen her in her office. Oh well, I’ll start again in the New Year.
It does bother me that she hasn’t had a full offer from me as yet.
That she doesn’t even know how much money she’s actually turning down.
I need to remedy that. So in the New Year, I’ll go big or go home.
Give her time to think about what she could do with all that cash.
How it will definitely change her life. And for the better.
All she needs to do is sell to me. Easy-peasy.