Jake must have told her.
“Yes, and I want to protect you. Which means we need to do a couple of things. Are you with me?”
“Always.”
“For the next week or so, I’d like you take a leave of absence from Jake’s.”
She protests but ultimately agrees for my own piece of mind. Her dislike of the job may also have played a role in her decision-making process.
I clean us both up and let Frank back in. No one says a word about the interruption, although I’m sure that’s more for Tiny’s sake than it is mine.
The board meeting gets scheduled for this Friday, the day before the Frick Ball. It’s perfect timing, in my opinion. By the end of the weekend, this should all be put to rest.
I spend the next few days contacting major stockholders and offering to buy their shares at a price higher than Louis is offering. His pockets are finite, and given that it’s Howe behind him, they simply don’t have the money to jeopardize me. The stockholders are easy to maneuver. The real danger will be if I can’t swing at least two of the board members my way.
ON FRIDAY MORNING, TINY SELECTS my most severe suit.
“I think today calls for a vest,” she says, pulling out a black wool three-piece suit. I allow her to dress me, my mind running over the course of events that will follow. A red power tie and my father’s mother-of-pearl cufflinks complete the ensemble.
“You look very powerful,” she says, brushing imaginary lint off my shoulders.
“You did call me God repeatedly last night. That goes to a man’s head.” I wink.
“As if your head isn’t big enough.”
“Stop with all the compliments.”
When we get downstairs, I see the car pull up. Steve is ready to take me to my office.
“Are you okay with the direction we’re going?”
“Yes,” she says impatiently. “It’s your business, Ian.”
“It has my name on it, but everything I do affects you now, so it’s our business.”
Her face softens. She’s finally getting it, I think. How much she means to me. How I’ll do anything she asks. How all of my decisions start and end with whether they will make her happy.
“Ian, I love you. I’m going to love you if you’re the head of a huge corporation or a guy who wears board shorts and eats street tacos every night.”
“I like those street tacos. I think anyone with functioning taste buds do, but I draw the line at board shorts.”
She reaches up to place a soft kiss on my jaw and hug me; the warmth of her love settles into my bones.
“No matter what happens today or tomorrow, I’ve already won.” I tighten my arms around her briefly and then release her.
“After today, I might not be able to afford you, Steve,” I say as I climb into the car.
“You’ll work it out,” he says.
“You’re so confident?”
“You’re not?”
An image of Tiny leaning against the doorframe dressed only in one of my T-shirts flickers to mind. “I’m not fully invested in either outcome. Tiny and I will be happy regardless, so yes, I guess I am confident.”
Kaga, Jake, and Gabe are waiting for me at my office on the day of the vote.
“You going to tell us the plan or make us go in blind?” Jake asks.
“It hinges on Paul and one more board member,” I tell him. “If Paul doesn’t vote with me, then it becomes problematic.”
“You mean us. Vote with us,” Kaga corrects.
I look at him blankly.
Kaga sighs. “You’re not an island, Kerr. We’re here to back you with our bank accounts, if necessary.”
I glance at Jake and Gabe, who nod their heads in agreement. The three of them could easily bail Kerr Inc. out of the deep end. Jake and Kaga have family money. Gabe is one of the wealthiest lawyers in the city. The bone-deep heat in my chest generated by Tiny’s love spreads a little farther. I told her that I was fully prepared for the meeting this morning, but clearly I lied.
The strong support of these men is shaking me. It’s one thing to offer verbal support, to play poker, or drink whiskey together. It’s entirely another thing to offer up one’s money.
This morning I was expecting a number of outcomes, but this wasn’t one of them. “I’m honored, but you can put your checkbooks away. I’ve got it covered.”
I share the details of the plan with them.
“When it comes down to it, you’re the CEO of Kerr Inc. You get to make the call whether to wind down or keep going,” Kaga states emphatically.
“I can take the company in whatever direction I want, but lawsuits could tie my hands for years while the value of the company drains away. This is the best course of action.”
Nothing more is said as the other members of the board arrive. Once everyone is assembled, I address the board.
“Thank you for coming today,” I begin.
Paul interrupts. “Thank you for agreeing to this. We know you could have stalled or held out for some time. This is a show of good faith on your part.”
His words are said more for the benefit of the rest of the members than for me. I take a glance around the table. Will Blake should vote with Paul. Tiffany Rosien sits next to him. I invited her to join us two years ago, and she’s now serving her third and last year. At the age of forty she was the CEO of a top tech firm. Now she’s primarily an angel investor. She’s sharp and ambitious and wouldn’t want to tie herself to a ship she thinks is too damaged.
Donald Harris is an attorney with Scheff, Market, and Rutherford. He’s always been adverse to risk. Dumping me is the safest route in his mind. Jeffrey Olsen is a partner in United Insurers. Insurance companies have tighter fists than Scrooge. Susan Murphy is the Vice President of Operations at Venture Entertainment. This group of three has always voted as a block. Tiffany and Paul are wildcards, but Tiffany tends to vote with Susan.
“I understand that you’re all concerned about the recent rumors that I might be winding down Kerr Inc. or that there has been some inappropriate siphoning of funds away from the corporation. Another person might remind you that I’ve increased your financial portfolio consistently every year since the very first; that some of you would not be where you are today if not for me. But I’m not interested in looking back, but forward.”
“Forward? Is that what winding down is?” scoffs Donald. “Cashing out positions and closing your doors is a backward act. An act of someone who’s guilty and trying to cover his tracks.”