Chapter Twelve #2
“The reality, Ms. Parker, is that the majority of the businesses we obtain get resold within two to five years of purchase, regardless of their success.
Only a handful of exceedingly profitable ones remain in our portfolio long term.
While we do believe in supporting the arts, we operate in investments, not charity.
The better you do, the longer we keep you.
If a studio is unable to grow, however, then it gets sold sooner rather than later.
We have to recoup our investment without risking further loss.
“Truth,” Piercings agreed, and Lissa almost asked if they even knew any other words.
“Now, if we had shown up here to see progress, maybe we could have been convinced to wait. There have been scenarios where we felt the existing management was the issue and bringing in someone new might increase profitability. But the truth is we have received a generous offer to purchase this studio, and since we see no movement whatsoever, we’re going to accept.
You can, of course, always ask the new owner if they will let you stay on. ”
The two representatives rose from their chairs, the squeaky vinyl sounding like the dying cries of Lissa’s dreams.
“But I still have three more weeks to turn it around,” Lissa protested. “You can’t do this.”
Faux Hawk pushed his glasses up with one finger. “And why not?”
“Because,” Lissa said, her mind frantically searching for something to say, anything that might stop them. Dammit, she still had time!
“Because I have an incredible plan,” she blurted out, her mouth filling in when her traitorous brain drew a blank.
“A plan?” Faux Hawk asked, giving her a dubious look. “What kind of plan?”
“It’s, um… a secret,” she replied, summoning all the confidence she could in order to sell her little ruse.
“A secret? You expect us to believe you have a plan to save your studio in three weeks, yet for some reason you must keep it secret? Despite what you might think based on our appearances, this is business, Ms. Parker, not a bake sale at the local co-op.” Faux Hawk crossed his arms and stared down his nose at her, an impressive feat given she was taller than him.
“I do have a plan,” Lissa promised, forcing herself not to react to the less than subtle insult. “It has to stay secret because it won’t work if someone leaks it.” That bullshit line from Mercer Marketing had worked on her boss, maybe it would work on these two.
Faux Hawk and Piercings exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. After a second, Piercings nodded.
“Okay,” Faux Hawk said. “While this is likely only delaying the inevitable, we’ll hold off on accepting for three weeks as a professional courtesy.
But not a single day more, Ms. Parker. If we don’t see notable, and I do mean notable, improvement in sales, that’s it.
Smooth Expressions will become the new satellite studio for Blown Bubbles. ”
Lissa gaped at the annoying hipster. “You’re selling us to Marge?”
“We’re selling you to another artistic company that has the funds to purchase you. That’s how we operate. Whatever your beef is with Marge has nothing to do with us.”
Lissa clenched her fists at her sides and bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood.
Just smile, nod, and act grateful they’re giving you the time they promised from the beginning, her brain said, finally showing up to the party.
“I understand,” Lissa forced out alongside a strained smile. “I appreciate the opportunity to show you what we can do.”
Faux Hawk ran his eyes up and down Lissa, lingering on her wrinkled jacket. “Yes, well, you have moxie, girl. We’ll give you that. See you in three weeks.”
Piercings gave her a brief head tilt, and the two reps left her office, taking Lissa’s last traces of hope with them.
She’d thought for sure they would give her more time.
Weren’t investors supposed to offer at least a year?
So much for honor among artists. These guys weren’t any better than Mercer Marketing—only caring about the almighty dollar.
Lissa dragged her chair back around to her side and slumped into it, dropping her head to the desk with a thud.
For months, she’d been trying to come up with plan after plan.
Bringing on more artists was the best she’d come up with even though their space was already tighter than the others were happy about.
How was she supposed to formulate an even better idea in three weeks?
She smacked her head on the desk a few times, hoping she might dislodge some brilliant scheme.
The only thing that came to mind, though, was Ria.
Was she really going back to that plan? Manipulating the woman she had feelings for to save her own ass?
She’d planned to tell Ria the truth, but that was when she was willing to gamble on the outcome.
Back when she thought she might be able to squeeze more time out of Art, Inc.
on the likely chance Ria told her to pound sand.
But now? She couldn’t risk it. Her career wasn’t the only one on the line, but all the other artists at Smooth Expressions as well. Marge would never let any of them stay on, simply out of spite.
Lissa had no choice. One way or another, she needed to get ahold of Ria and get those secrets.
Even if it meant giving up the woman of her dreams.