by Marni Mann
“Let me explain this in words you’ll understand, Mr. Jones. What we provided was our final offer. If your clients would like to concede, we’re ready to sign. If not, we’re prepared to walk. Remember, we didn’t approach them. They approached us.”
A few seconds passed before he said, “We need to talk in person. I’m scheduling a meeting for Thursday.”
I glanced toward my computer, clicking on my calendar.
Thursday was two days from now.
And Hudson practiced in LA, which was on the opposite coast as Miami.
“Early afternoon works best,” he added. “I’ll have my assistant reach out to coordinate your arrival.”
While we chatted, which we’d done only twice, I pictured him to be about forty-five, making him fourteen years older than me. I imagined him bald, even more nasally in person, suffering from short-man syndrome with a horrible case of bad breath.
Once I had his description locked down, I’d envisioned his expression when I told him we weren’t caving and again when I won this deal. And, lastly, when I told him his demands were bullshit.
I’d responded to everything he’d asked for up until this point.
Now, I was done.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’m not coming all the way—”
“The meeting is in two days, Scarlett. In LA. Have your assistant reach out to mine.”
Just as I opened my mouth to reply, the phone went dead.
I pulled it away from my ear and stared at the screen.
That dickhead had hung up on me.
God, he has balls.
I left my phone on the desk and went down the hall, looking inside each of my partners’ offices. The only one here was Brett, so I knocked before I opened his door and poked my head in.
He glanced up from his computer, and I said, “Got a second?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He waved me in, and I took a seat across from his desk. “You look like you’re about to fuck someone up.”
“That would be Hudson Jones.”
He pushed back from his desk and crossed his foot over his knee. “Fucking Christ. What’s his issue now?”
“He’s not bending.”
He sighed, shaking his head back and forth. “How far apart are we?”
“Five points.”
“That’s significant.”
“Brett, it’s what we deserve. Every calculation I’ve made proves it. Our attorney even agrees.”
The heel of his shoe started clinking against the edge of his desk. “We either need to get this wrapped up or squash the deal. But the lawyers are dragging this out, and every day that passes, they make more goddamn money off of us.”
I knew how much our attorney would earn off this partnership, and it made me sick to my stomach.
“Hudson wants me to go to LA and meet with him on Thursday.”
“For what?”
I shrugged. “I assume he wants us to come to an agreement.”
His eyes moved to his computer, and he used his mouse to click on the screen. “I’ll be in New York on Thursday.”
“I know. Max will be in Vegas, and Jack will be in Atlanta, so none of you are available to go with me.”
“What about our attorney?”
I’d thought about this same thing as I walked down the hall toward his office.
“I don’t think I’ll need him. I won’t be there to sign anything; I’ll be there to talk.”
“No, you’ll be there to fucking battle.”
I smiled. “Precisely.”
“Get what you want, get him to agree, and get this deal done.”
I hadn’t expected to close out the final round of negotiations. But, since the very beginning, I had taken the lead on this merger. It’d started when the three owners of Entertainment Management Worldwide—Jayson Brady, Blake Dion, and Shane Walker—reached out through email. They’d expressed their interest, and after a bit of research, I’d decided to meet with them. Once I’d had a better understanding of what they were looking for, I’d pitched the idea to my friends.
At first glance, the contract they’d provided looked pretty decent. But, once I’d begun to dig into the numbers and break them down, I had known we needed much more.
That was four months ago.
And it still felt like we were miles apart.
“This is the last chance,” Brett warned. “I’m not going another round with them, and neither are you.”
By end of day Thursday, I’d know if we were going to gain a partnership that would net us millions, making us the highest-grossing agent and management firm in the country, or if all the hard work I’d put in would be for nothing.
It was all coming down to me.
The only partner who didn’t negotiate for a living.
Instead, I was the chief financial officer. I’d been working behind the scenes since the day we opened the business. But I’d grown up with these guys, I’d gone to college with them, I’d lived with them for years, and we’d spent our entire career together.
In that time, I’d learned how to hold my own.
So, if Hudson thought I would just lie on my back and take whatever he gave me in Thursday’s meeting, then he’d read me all wrong.
Personally, I liked that position when it involved a headboard and handcuffs.
But, when it came to my job and the livelihood of my partners, I was the dominant one.
Soon, he would see that side of me.
I stood from the chair and moved behind it. “I’ll make the right decision for all of us. Don’t worry; I won’t disappoint.”
“You never have.”
