Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Andrew
I drummed my fingers on my desk like some kind of comic-book villain.
How long was this going to take? It had been twenty-four hours since I’d submitted the offer to buy Verity, Inc.
from Goode Publishing. If Bob had any sense at all, he’d snatch my hand off.
He wasn’t going to get more than this. The magazine was the only business in his group not making money.
Other publications that Goode had were subsidizing Verity.
This was a clean way for Goode to get rid of a loss-making business and collect some cash at the same time.
I didn’t understand why I hadn’t had a call within ten minutes of my offer landing on his desk.
I stood and pushed my hands into my pockets. Maybe Sofia had been away from her desk when the call had come through. I strode across my office and snatched open the door, half expecting to see an empty chair.
“I haven’t heard a word,” she replied, without even turning around.
“Have you gone to make coffee or to the loo or—”
“I’ve left my desk twice this morning to go to the restroom but I had Douglas wait by the phone while I was gone. I haven’t missed anything.”
I fisted my hands and went back into my office, closed the door, and leaned back on it.
Like it or not, Sofia was a pretty good assistant.
And she knew how bloody important this offer was to me.
She’d even diverted her phone when she left last night.
I knew there was no point. Bob wasn’t going to respond immediately.
Maybe I’d call his lawyer if I hadn’t heard anything by close of business.
The terse ring of Sofia’s phone was piercingly loud from the other side of the door. My heart thundered in my chest and I sprinted back to my desk to pick up the call if she transferred it through.
Sure enough, just as I sat, my desk phone rang.
I picked it up.
“It’s Goode’s lawyers. Shall I put them through?”
“Yes,” I said, pulling my shoulders back. This was it. The fish was biting.
“Andrew? It’s Charles Whithorn.” I’d come across Charles a couple of times in my career. He seemed like a decent enough guy.
“How can I help?” As if I didn’t know. He’d called to open negotiations. I wasn’t expecting Goode to agree to my terms immediately. But if he came to the table, I knew I could close the deal. And here he was, pulling out the chair.
“It’s about this offer on Verity. Bob has asked me to call but honestly, I don’t know why. He’s asked me to tell you that Verity, Inc. isn’t for sale.”
My stomach swooped in my mouth. I must have misheard. “What do you mean it’s not for sale? If he doesn’t like my offer, let’s talk.”
“Yes. I suggested we come back to you with some kind of counteroffer—a markup of the heads—but he’s not interested. Just kept telling me it wasn’t for sale.”
He must have got this wrong. There was no way the business wasn’t for sale. It was loss making and had no strategic direction. It was a disaster. Of course it was for sale. Realistically, they should be pleased to give it away. I’d offered the cash as well as taking on fifty percent of the debt.
“Have you seen the numbers, Charles? Verity is not in good shape. I made a good offer.”
“I know,” he replied. “I don’t think the number is important. He just doesn’t want to sell it.”
I searched my brain for reasons why he wouldn’t want to sell. “Is he trying to sell Goode Publishing in its entirety?”
“Not as far as I’m aware, and I tend to see most of what passes across his desk, even if he’s not interested.”
“Does he have a plan or a new investor or something?”
“I really don’t know. Last conversation I had with him about the business, he talked about the importance of profits. I have no idea why he’s not interested in your offer.”
“You didn’t ask him?” What kind of lawyer was this guy if he wasn’t advising his client correctly?
“I did. He wouldn’t tell me. But you guys have a history, don’t you? Why don’t you ask him?”
I sighed. “Thanks for the call.” There was no point wasting my breath on chitchat. I needed a new plan. So much for Gabriel and Tristan’s brilliant suggestion. I chastised myself for cutting him off. There was no need to make an enemy of Charles. He might prove useful. “I might do that. Thank you.”
“Just a thought. You know Bob is a people man. He’s old school.
He believes in doing business with people he likes.
” I wasn’t an idiot. Most people preferred to do business with people they liked.
“Well, he’s not said anything—not recently and certainly not in relation to this offer—but I’m not sure he’s your biggest fan. ”
This wasn’t news.
“The feeling is mutual, Charles. But this is business.”
“Business or not, no one wants to feel like a fool. You’ve been pretty clear that you don’t like the way he runs Verity. And now that it’s doing so badly, I’m putting two and two together and guessing that he doesn’t want you proving yourself right.”
I nearly dropped the phone—partly out of shock at the idea that someone would, through pure pride and vanity, refuse a great offer for a failing business, and partly as the reality dawned that I wasn’t going to get my hands on Verity. Not if Goode had anything to do with it.
“So he’s going to cut his nose off to spite his face?”
“I’m speculating.”
“Well, if your speculations are correct, Bob’s a bigger idiot than I already thought he was.” I was frustrated but at the same time, grateful for Charles’ insight. “I appreciate you being straight with me,” I said.
“No problem. You know that’s how I like to do business.”
I owed Charles. There was no point wasting precious time and energy chasing after Verity. It was hopeless. He’d saved me some time and left me with a little heartache. It looked like my grandmother’s legacy wasn’t salvageable.