Chapter 97 - Another One
The packaging company had acrylic sheets stacked beside cardboard boxes.
That was my first complaint.
Not because acrylic and cardboard could not exist in the same building.
They could.
Just not like that.
Different materials.
Different storage requirements.
Different risks.
Different production flows.
Different fucking businesses, almost.
I stood near the entrance and looked around.
Vinyl rolls.
Corrugated boxes.
Foam boards.
Acrylic sheets.
Sticker materials.
Packaging samples.
Signage samples.
Half-finished displays.
One large-format printer running near the back.
Cutting plotter.
Laminator.
Fabrication tables.
A small router.
Tools.
Machines.
People.
Orders.
Mess.
Not catastrophic.
Just—
mess.
The CPA who had messaged me stood beside me.
"You're doing the face."
I looked at her.
"What face?"
"The first-company face."
"I don't have a first-company face."
"You absolutely do."
I looked away.
Dangerous.
The owner was Ms. Santiago.
Early forties.
Direct.
More organized than Mr. Villanueva had been.
Good.
Also worse.
Because she knew exactly what the company's problems were.
She was simply tired of solving them.
Packaging and signage had grown together accidentally.
The business started with stickers, labels, packaging sleeves, small product boxes, and event materials.
Then clients asked for acrylic signs.
Then wall graphics.
Then store signage.
Then display stands.
Then custom packaging.
Then larger print work.
Then fabrication.
Now the company did too many adjacent things without deciding which ones deserved priority.
Revenue was decent.
Not great.
Margins inconsistent.
A few product categories were excellent.
Several were barely worth doing.
Some jobs made money only if nothing went wrong.
Something always went wrong.
There.
Problem.
Unlike the first acquisition, this company had actual records.
Not perfect.
But usable.
Job costing existed.
Mostly.
Inventory existed.
Mostly.
Collections were not terrifying.
Good.
Staff knew their roles.
Better.
The problem was less—
Nobody knows what's happening.
More—
Everybody knows what's happening, but the company keeps saying yes to too many kinds of work.
Different disease.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Fuck.
Ms. Santiago showed me the production area.
Large-format eco-solvent printer.
Healthy.
UV equipment.
Expensive.
Useful.
Underutilized.
Cutting plotter.
Good.
Laminator.
Good.
Router.
Useful.
Fabrication tools.
Delivery vehicle.
Decent.
The problem was not lack of equipment.
It was utilization.
Scheduling.
Pricing.
Product mix.
Sales discipline.
Material management.
And too much custom work quoted by instinct.
I asked—
"How do you decide whether to accept a custom fabrication job?"
She shrugged.
"If we can make it."
No.
Absolutely not.
"That's not a profitability criterion."
"I know."
"Then why?"
"Because the client asks."
I stared.
She stared back.
Then laughed.
"Exactly."
At least she knew.
I opened one completed project file.
Retail display.
Custom acrylic.
Printed panels.
Fabrication.
Delivery.
Installation.
Good revenue.
Then I reconstructed actual labor.
Material waste.
Installation hours.
Vehicle cost.
Rework.
Fuck.
"Did this make money?"
She smiled tiredly.
"Technically."
"That is not a comforting word."
"I know."
"How much?"
"Not enough."
There.
Another job.
Custom packaging sleeves.
Higher quantity.
Simple repeat process.
Excellent margin.
Another.
Store decals.
Good.
Another.
UV printed acrylic signs.
Very good.
Another.
Highly customized event structure.
Terrible.
I looked at Ms. Santiago.
"You're running four businesses inside one business."
She nodded.
"I know."
That was somehow more alarming than if she had denied it.
"Why didn't you separate them?"
"Because everything kept growing."
"And now?"
"I'm tired."
Fair.
Very fair.
I told myself I was only inspecting.
Again.
This time I knew better.
Which meant I lied to myself with more experience.
Very advanced.
Due diligence took less time.
Not because I was careless.
Because the company was cleaner.
The accountant's books matched reasonably well.
Taxes were current.
Lease straightforward.
No horrifying receivables.
No hidden debt spiral.
No customer deposits funding old work.
Beautiful.
The lawyer looked disappointed.
Probably not.
But compared to the first acquisition, this was almost boring.
Good.
I liked boring.
The core issue became obvious within two weeks.
Packaging was healthy.
Signage was potentially healthy.
Custom fabrication was eating management attention.
UV capacity was underused because sales did not actively sell the right products.
Large-format work had demand but pricing had not been updated properly for material waste and finishing.
Inventory carried too many weird one-off substrates purchased for custom jobs that never repeated.
One delivery vehicle was fine.
The router was useful.
Staff was competent.
This was not a rescue.
This was pruning.
Much easier.
Dangerously easier.
I made an offer.
Asset-heavy acquisition.
Operating business included.
Cleaner structure.
No reason to be as defensive as before.
Still negotiated hard.
Ms. Santiago negotiated better than Mr. Villanueva.
Annoying.
Respectable.
We went back and forth for almost a week.
Then agreed.
?4.6 million.
I looked at the signed documents.
Second company acquired.
Well—
third operating business if counting my original company.
But second acquisition.
At twenty-five.
This was becoming suspicious.
Jane learned about the first acquisition before she learned about the second.
That part was inevitable.
We were having coffee with Chloe.
Normal coffee.
No business meeting.
No financial interrogation.
In theory.
Chloe had seen something online.
A post.
Probably one of the company pages.
She looked at me.
"You bought a company?"
I stopped drinking.
Fuck.
Jane turned.
"What?"
"Apparently Lia bought a company."
Jane looked at me slowly.
"A company?"
I said nothing.
Chloe stared.
"Whole company?"
"It was an asset acquisition."
Jane frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means technically—"
"You bought a company."
"Operational assets and selected—"
"Lia."
"Yes."
Jane put her drink down.
"When?"
"Months ago."
"You didn't mention it."
"I mention many things."
"You bought a business."
"Yes."
"And forgot to mention it?"
"I did not forget."
"That's worse."
Fair.
Then Jane asked the question.
Of course.
"How much?"
"No."
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
Chloe laughed.
"Oh, expensive."
"No."
"Your no was too fast."
"I always say no when she asks prices."
Jane pointed at me.
"Because you keep buying things that offend me."
"That is a personal problem."
"How much?"
"No."
"Five hundred thousand?"
I drank my coffee.
Jane paused.
"More?"
I said nothing.
Chloe sat forward.
"Oh, this is fun."
"It is not."
"Seven hundred?"
Nothing.
"Eight?"
Nothing.
"One million?"
I looked at the ceiling.
Jane stared.
"More than one million?"
Silence.
Her mouth opened.
"Lia."
"No."
"One point five?"
I continued drinking.
Chloe whispered—
"Oh my God."
Jane looked horrified.
"Two million?"
I made the mistake of blinking.
She saw it.
"MORE THAN TWO?"
"I did not say that."
"You didn't have to!"
Chloe started laughing.
Jane looked at me like I had personally destabilized the peso.
"How much more than two?"
"No."
"Two point two?"
Nothing.
"Two point five?"
I looked away.
Bad.
Very bad.
Jane slapped Chloe lightly on the arm.
"Look at her."
"I'm looking."
"Two point five?"
I still said nothing.
Chloe's eyes widened.
"More."
"Shut up."
"You're close."
"I SAID SHUT UP."
I stared at Chloe.
"You have no evidence."
"I have your face."
Everybody had my face.
Unfair.
Jane leaned closer.
"Three million?"
I sighed.
"No."
She froze.
"No as in less?"
I said nothing.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Less than three."
Still nothing.
Chloe started counting mentally.
"Two point seven?"
I looked directly at her.
Big mistake.
Chloe screamed.
Not loudly.
Enough.
Jane covered her mouth.
"Oh my God."
"I have confirmed nothing."
"You confirmed everything."
"I did not."
"You bought a company for almost three million pesos."
"I did not say that."
"Lia!"
People at another table looked over.
I lowered my voice.
"Please stop announcing hypothetical acquisition values."
Jane stared at me.
"Hypothetical my ass."
Then came the salary comparison.
I saw it coming.
"No."
Jane frowned.
"I haven't said anything."
"No accumulated annual salary calculations."
Chloe immediately reached for her phone.
I pointed.
"No."
"Wait."
"No."
"If Jane makes around—"
"Chloe."
Jane slapped her hand over Chloe's phone.
"No. I don't want to know."
Finally.
Wisdom.
Chloe laughed.
"You started this."
"I changed my mind."
"Too late."
"No."
I looked at both of them.
"This is why I don't disclose acquisition values."
Jane pointed at me.
"You're scary now."
"What?"
"You used to print invitations."
"I still print invitations."
"You bought a company."
"Related industry."
"Monster."
"That feels dramatic."
Chloe nodded thoughtfully.
"Small monster."
"Fuck both of you."
I did not tell them about the second acquisition.
Obviously.
I learned.
For approximately twelve days.
Then Jane found out through somebody else again.
Apparently secrecy was incompatible with operating businesses that had social media pages.
She called me.
No hello.
"You bought another company?"
I closed my eyes.
"Hi, Jane."
"Another company?"
"Yes."
"Another whole one?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then—
"How long ago?"
"Recently."
"Recently when?"
"Recently."
"That is not a date."
"Correct."
"Packaging?"
"And signage."
"Why?"
"Because it made sense."
"Of course it did."
She sounded exhausted.
I smiled.