Rob stood at the window of a plush office with a view of the Oakland Bay Bridge. Laurent Nantes, an impeccably dressed man of below-average height entered. He was gray at the temples, had an aquiline nose, a downward-curving mouth, a formal manner and a distinct French accent, a highly fashioned man.
“Hullo, I am Laurent Nantes, please sit here,” indicating a low armchair facing his desk.
“Robert Clevenger.” Rob noticed that Nantes offered only his fingers in the handshake, and his internal security system went on even higher alert.
Nantes asked as he sat in a high chair behind an enormous desk, “How is it that Ian did not come?”
“Stayed behind to cover his assets.”
“Nantes snickered. “I hope the deal you brought is better than your one-liners. You do have authority?”
I’m not up here to sightsee,” Rob said as he looked up at Nantes whose face was partially obscured by the bright background behind his superior perch.
“I am interested in buying your company today if terms can be arranged. How much, Mr. Clevenger, and how soon?”
“One hundred-seventy-five million, ninety-five cash, April thirty.”
“Too soon,” Nantes responded irritably, “too much, and you must be fucking joking, mon ami, about the cash.”
“We can get the price,” Rob said while thinking, I’ve never met anybody who could switch from smarmy to snarky with such ease.
“Not from moi. Are the new financial statements you faxed accurate?”
“Audited fresh by Brown & Wright, a hundred-seventy million, ninety cash, May fifteen.”
“I am comforted by your Brown & Wright audit. Two of their, what do you call them? Yes, white shoes reside in prison. I’ll go one-sixty-five million, eighty-million cash, but I can not close until June thirty.”
“You got it, if you make it eight-two cash and due in thirty days,” Rob said. “And we want no time restrictions on selling your stock.”
“Non, no, one-sixty-two million, if it’s eighty-two cash, and you can sell fifty percent of the stock after December 31, no earlier, and the rest after the close of the first quarter of next year. And sixty days on the cash¾should you agree to those terms, send the papers.”
Rob stood and dug into his briefcase. “I want you to sign a deal terms sheet now. Ian already signed both copies, they’re notarized . . . I’ll fill in the . . . numbers and . . . countersign . . . you sign here . . . one copy for each of us.”
Nantes had come from behind his massive desk to review the sheets and sign. “I see you’ve done this before,” as he handed one sheet back to Rob.
“No leaks,” Nantes added emphatically, “and do not push your stock. I do not want the Feds nosing about. They know my name. I like you now, but if there is bad paper (he poked Rob in the chest) since I saw those books last, like holding back returns (he poked him again) or booking full sales up front, or I paid too much, I’m coming after you personally.”
“You poke me again and I’ll break your finger.”
“You are tough guy?”
“Maybe. Ian told me nice things about you. He didn’t say you’re paranoid and hypocritical. Fuck you and your threats.”
Nantes smiled. “In the words of my countryman La Rochefoucauld, ‘Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue.’ Please, Mr. Clevenger, forgive my unintended assault on your virtue. I believe it was your President Lincoln who said, ‘A man without vices is a man without virtues.’ ”
“And I believe it was H.H. Fowler who said, ‘Display of superior knowledge is as great a vulgarity as display of superior wealth.’ ”
“Excellent, Mr. Clevenger, your erudition has trumped my pretension. And please do not be so touchy, mon ami, regarding my alleged paranoia. I am just telling you that I know all the tricks. It has been said that I invented many of them. Please send my love to Ian.”
“He sent you a dozen roses, but I left them in the overhead rack. Next time.”
“I like your style, Mr. Clevenger, be sure and keep it that way.”
“I’m not sure I like yours, Mr. Nantes,” Rob said with a smile. “But I know I’ll like your hundred-sixty-two million.”
NOTE: This story was adapted and excerpted from Larceny of Love, a provocative print and eBook novel that traces the interwoven careers of three men in jeopardy (one of whom is a professional pitcher who suffers from sudden, extreme, unexplained career-threatening wildness) and the unforgettable women in their lives.
“What a great story! I love the way the plot lines all come together at the end and loved the movie angle. Really great plot and variety of themes, thoroughly enjoyable, entertaining, engaging read.” -Joyce Clough, Esq., Chicago, Illinois