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SC-Epilogue, Part 5c
🕑 Added 2020-09-14 12:01:01 +0000 UTCJul 1997 – Nov 1997
✧ ✧ ✧
Trip appeared in my office a week later and set two crystal tumblers on my desk. They were new, probably gifts from Wren, and he poured from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s that wasn’t his usual Gentleman Jack. I saved my work and checked my watch—it was after five but early for our usual chat.
He was in a good mood. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Find such great people. I mean, all of your hires are MVPs. First Bob and Darci. Now Alex and Ross. Even Whitney, as hot and weird as she is. And now that I think about it, Shari’s here ’cause of you.”
“Treat people right.” I sat forward and accepted the glass of whiskey.
“Whatever it is, keep doing it.” He clinked his glass against mine and sank into the chair. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I swallowed and felt my eyelids peel back.
“Sorry,” Trip chuckled, “I should’ve warned you. It’s Single Barrel… ninety-four proof.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” In case I ever need to strip fancy paint.
“It’s new.” He admired the bottle. “Thought I’d give it a try. Anyway, let’s talk about Alex and Ross. I hope you don’t mind that I worked out a deal without you.”
“No problem.”
“The Board will have to ratify it anyway. We’re buying them out. We worked out an all-stock deal, so we don’t have to dip into our cash reserves.”
“Awesome.”
He pretended to study the amber liquid in his glass, but he was really looking at me.
“So,” he said at last, “when were you planning to tell me about the other thing?”
“What other thing?”
“Your new house?”
“What about it? It’s just a few ideas at this point.”
“Wren says it’s more than that. You have drawings and everything.”
Sometimes I hated that Wren and Christy were girlfriends. I couldn’t keep a secret unless I went out of my way to tell Christy not to share.
“A house, a pool, a hot tub,” he mused, “plus a bunch of other buildings. Sounds like a whole complex, dude. Are you gonna start a cult?”
“Ha! No, it’s just for us.”
“Wren’s gonna want the same thing. You know that, right? And it’s gonna cost a fortune.”
“So? You can afford it. Besides, if it makes her happy…”
“You got that right. So, what’re you thinking, cost- and schedule-wise?”
I loaded a spreadsheet, dragged it to the left monitor, and angled it toward him.
He leaned forward and studied it. “That isn’t so bad,” he said at last. “Is that everything?”
“Just the house.” I clicked to a second sheet. “That’s everything.”
He let out a low whistle. “That’s a jumbo loan.”
“No kidding. We’ll probably use some of our savings instead of financing the whole thing.”
He nodded judiciously.
“Either way, I promised we’d start by our anniversary.” He grew thoughtful, and I sat forward in alarm. “Oh, no… I know that look.”
“What!” he protested.
“You want an anniversary present for Wren.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Dude! That’s next month!”
“So? You did yours in a month.”
“A month! Are you kidding? I’ve been working on this for fifteen years.”
“So? I’ve seen you do a whole design on a cocktail napkin over drinks.”
“Yeah, when I’d been thinking about it for a while!”
“Listen,” he said reasonably, “you already know what we want. Pool, office, music studio. We’ve been telling you for, what, two years?” He mimicked Wren, “Write that down.”
“You’re serious?”
“I know you can do it.”
“Fine. But… gimme a sec.” I checked my schedule for the next month, on the computer and everything. Whitney would’ve been proud. “Yeah, okay,” I said at last, “I’ll make it work.”
“Awesome! Wren’s gonna be stoked.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” I said halfheartedly. Then I took a deep breath and adjusted my attitude. The house really would make Wren happy, which would make Trip happy, and my own wife as well. Happy wife, happy life. “Okay,” I said with considerably more enthusiasm, “let’s start with the style. Any idea what you want?”
“Something like the Hermitage. D’you know it? In Nashville? Or Granville’s place. You’re—”
“No.”
He blinked at my sudden change in attitude. “Excuse me?”
“I know the Hermitage. It was a plantation. A real one, with slaves and everything. Granville’s was built after the war, but it was meant to evoke the same image.” I felt a stab of irritation that I didn’t even have to say which war. We were in the south, after all. “The war” to southerners was always the Civil War, because it had never really ended.
“So?” Trip said. “Plantations are kind of a thing around here. It’s our heritage.”
“I’m not going to build a plantation-style house in Atlanta. No, scratch that. I’m not going to build one anywhere. No way, no how.”
“Why not?”
“Why not! It’s a symbol of slavery and oppression!”
“Oh, brother,” he sighed. “You’re gonna get all politically correct, aren’t you?”
“I shouldn’t have to. Look around. We live in a city that’s 60 percent Black!”
“Maybe downtown,” he protested. “But not where we live.”
“I don’t care. I’m not building a house that reminds people of slavery.”
“Reminds people of slavery?” he repeated incredulously. “A house?”
I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “No. And that’s final.”
“Whatever. I didn’t wanna argue anyway.”
Then you shouldn’t’ve asked for a plantation house, I thought testily.
“What style would you suggest, Dr. King?”
I clenched my jaw and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. After a moment I took another deep breath. Trip did the same and got his own temper back under control.
“Classic or modern?” I said at last.
“Modern. But nothing funky. I don’t want anything weird like… I dunno…” He searched for something that wasn’t likely to offend me. “That wavy thing Gehry’s building in Spain.”
“The Guggenheim? No problem. You aren’t gonna get that anyway.” I fell silent and let my mind wander. “How about Mid-century Modern? Something post and beam, with lots of glass?”
Trip nodded. “That could work. What’re you thinking?”
✧ ✧ ✧
A couple of weeks later, Trip came into my office with his bottle of expensive paint stripper. He swung the door closed and began pouring.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I said dryly.
He passed me the heavy crystal tumbler, settled into the chair, and inhaled the fumes of his own whiskey. Then he took a healthy sip and smacked his lips.
“So, I’ve been thinking…”
“Always dangerous.”
“Are you in a pissy mood?” he asked without heat.
“Not really. Sorry. Just being a jerk.” I’d been acting like he usually did, and I didn’t miss the irony when he shrugged it off, just like I would have.
“That’s cool,” he said. “Anyway, let’s catch up. I stopped by Darci’s office earlier, and I like what you’ve done with the house designs. Mid-century really works. Oh, and thanks for not going overboard. I mean, we don’t need a whole compound like y’all.”
“I didn’t go overboard. On ours, I mean.”
“How many houses d’you need?” he teased. Then he did a pretty good Tommy Lee Jones impression, “I want a hard target search of every main house, pool house, guest house, warehouse, and boathouse in the area.”
“We aren’t building the boathouse,” I said, a touch defensively. “We’re just running the utilities in case we want one later.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Besides, Christy works at home. And she needs more than just an office and a computer. The ‘warehouse’ is her workshop. The ‘guest house’ is her studio.” Evidently, I was still in the mood for a fight. Fortunately, Trip wasn’t looking for a real one.
“Yeah, I know,” he conceded. “I guess I’m being a jerk too. Sorry about that.”
Note to self, I thought, get back to the gym. Hit something that deserves it, not your business partner.
“The boathouse utilities are a good idea,” he continued. “Might want to do the same for us. In the meantime, we love the house. Wren took the watercolor you did to her office at work. You really hit it out of the park. As usual.”
“Thank you. Although… I’m guessing you didn’t come here just to tell me that.”
“No. Well, yes, but…” He drained his whiskey, sat forward, and poured another two fingers. I declined politely when he tilted the bottle toward me. “No problem,” he said, mellow already. “More for me.” Then he sat back and gathered his thoughts.
“Lemme guess,” I wondered aloud, “you’ve been looking at the work we need for the houses and you’ve figured out a way to get someone else to pay for it.”
He pursed his lips in a grin and rolled his hand for me to continue.
I did. “We’re going to need a ton of site work. Not just for the houses themselves, but all the infrastructure. The utility runs will cost a fortune, especially from the main road.”
“Yep.”
“So, you want to resurrect the whole development project.”
“Golf course, condos, retail, everything,” he agreed.
“And if we do that, the development will pay for the majority of the excavation and site prep. It’ll pay for the road, utilities, and everything else, right to our new doorsteps.”
“Great minds think alike.”
“Mmm. But… can we do it? Financially, I mean.”
“We’ll need investors…,” he ventured.
“And we don’t want another Scumbag.”
“No.”
“Speaking of which… Can he cause problems?”
“I’d like to see him try,” Trip scoffed. “We aren’t broke like last time. We have money to go to court.”
“Okay, but what about all the work we did? He could make the case that he owns it.”
“Any contract between us would be invalid. We never received consideration. That means he never paid us.”
I remembered all too well. And I still seethed about it if I let myself.
“He can try to make trouble,” Trip continued mildly, “but he knows we’ll fight. And we’ll probably win.” To his credit, he paused and considered the different angles. Then he shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think he’ll bother. Besides, I’ve heard he has money problems. Seems he’s a lousy businessman when he isn’t defrauding investors.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” I muttered.
“Whatever,” Trip said. “The best revenge is living well. So, let’s talk about our project, and especially investors. I wanted to make sure you’re up for it before I start looking.”
“Go for it.”
“Okay. I’ll put together a proposal. But let’s get started on the plans. Do you still have all your old drawings?”
“Yeah. They’re on backups at the house. We’ll probably have to update them for the new version of AutoCAD, but I’ll put Whitney on it.”
“You still don’t like the computer?” he chuckled.
“I don’t mind it, but I have other priorities.”
“I never understood that,” he said. “I mean, you’re the guy who’s always pushing for more tech—email, a website, upgrading our servers—but you still don’t like drawing on the computer. While Christy’s an actual artist, and about as scatterbrained as they come. No offense,” he added quickly, “but she uses a computer like one of those hackers.”
“It’s a language thing,” I said. “She has a talent for it. Anyway, moving along…”
“Yeah, whatever. You and Whitney can update the plans. Ask Bob to look at—”
“My department,” I said before he could tell me how to do my job.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“And if we’re serious about doing this,” I added, “we’ll need more people.”
“Yeah. Also your department. I’ll find a way to make the money work.” He paused and then grinned. “We’re gonna be rich, dude.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Trip came into my office one day in September and closed the door. It was the middle of the afternoon, so it wasn’t time for our usual chat.
I held up a finger, and he sat patiently as I finished my changes and saved the file. Then I opened Whitney’s tracking spreadsheet and flagged the project. I checked the boxes for what I needed, a schedule of materials and an updated cost estimate. She actually enjoyed crunching the numbers, and I was happy to let her.
“One last thing,” I said to Trip. I brought up my schedule on the other monitor. “Whitney’ll kill me if I don’t show up where I’m s’posed to. I can reschedule if— Never mind, we’re good. I’m free for another hour. Sorry about that. What’s up?”
“How do you feel about selling part of the company?”
My eyebrows twitched upward.
“That was my reaction,” Trip agreed. “I should probably start at the beginning.”
“Please.”
“So, I just got off the phone with Susan. I’ve been in touch with her since we decided to move forward on the Lake Lanier development. At first I just wanted her advice, but I also had her on the short list for investors.”
“Of course.”
“I faxed her the budgets and projections we did with Trimble—”
“Scumbag,” I said automatically.
Trip rolled his eyes and continued, “I sent her the numbers we did last time. She spotted red flags immediately.”
“She would,” I said. “She has way more experience. But she also knows what happened. She has the benefit of hindsight.”
“True. Anyway, she looked at the numbers, and they weren’t inflated too badly. Trim—” Another annoyed eye-roll. “Scumbag didn’t lie too much on the deal he sold us. He screwed us on the back end.”
I rolled my hand in a “get to the point” gesture.
“Yeah, whatever. You were there.”
“Mmm.”
“Anyway, I used his numbers as a starting point, and Susan helped me update them. She gave me some really good advice from an investor’s perspective. We talked some more, and she’s definitely interested in the development.”
“That’s good news,” I said, “but I’m a little confused. I don’t remember any of this. When was the last time we discussed it?”
“It’s been a while,” he admitted. “You’ve been busy with other things, so I handled it myself.”
“Got it. I remember when we made the decision, but…” I thought back and then stiffened in disbelief. “Holy crap! Has it really been two months? Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“I guess,” he said dryly. “Meanwhile… d’you mind if I get back to my story?”
“Yeah, sorry. Go ahead.”
“Okay, so… she’s probably going to invest in the development, enough that we should be able to cover the rest.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. But that’s only half the news. Last week she asked about company earnings, so I faxed her an estimated year-end P&L. She looked it over, and today she dropped a bombshell. She wants to know if we’re looking for investors in PHD itself.”
“She wants to buy part of the company?” I said incredulously. “That’s what you meant before? How would that even work?”
“Legal and financial stuff that you don’t care about,” he said with a wave. “She suggested a 25 percent stake, but there’s a catch. Two catches, actually, but I can use the second one to our advantage.”
“What’s the first?”
“We’d have to assign 10 percent of the company to the non-shareholding employees.”
“We can use that to our advantage as well,” I said immediately.
“Yeah, I figured you’d be fine with it. It’s a big chunk of change, but it appeals to your socialist side.”
“I’m not a socialist,” I said mildly. “I believe in private ownership and the free market. I don’t believe in unregulated capitalism. There’s a difference.”
“Now you sound like Leah,” he said.
Because Leah understood how the world worked—the real world. Trip and I lived in a bubble of privilege. Men like us, with money and power, could do whatever we wanted and usually get away with it. Scumbag was a perfect example.
I offered a tight smile and kept my thoughts to myself. Trip liked his privilege and power. I did too, if I was being honest, but I didn’t have any delusions about our success. We’d both worked hard, but we’d also had a head start from birth.
“I’m not a socialist,” I repeated aloud, “but people work harder if they own a part of what they’re working for.”
I listened to what I’d just said and had to suppress a smile at the contradiction. (That was exactly what socialism was, a system where the people owned the means of production. Fortunately, “socialism” was just a bugaboo for Trip, a word he used to extol the virtues of capitalism. He didn’t understand or even care about the reality. Still, I digress.)
“Whatever,” he said. “I can live with the 10 percent. But I wanted to clear it with you before we proceed. We’ll need to talk to the girls as well.”
“I don’t think they’ll have a problem with it.”
“Probably not,” he agreed.
“What’s the other catch?”
“We’d have to start doing nonprofit work, a percent of net, every year.”
My eyebrows did their thing again, although I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Habitat for Humanity?” I said.
Trip snorted. “I knew you’d have a suggestion straight off the bat.”
“It’s good for the community.” It was my “socialism” again, and he waved it away. I returned to the original question. “So… you really think it’s time to look for investors for PHD?”
“I didn’t at first,” he said, “but Susan convinced me. It’ll jump-start our next round of growth. We can also build a new headquarters building.” He gestured around us. “Something more befitting a company our size and ambition.”
“No kidding.”
We had thirty employees, and we occupied five spaces in a building that had been designed for businesses much smaller than ours. As an added headache, the landlord wouldn’t let us knock down walls to add interior doors. So we had to leave one space and walk outside to an adjoining one any time we wanted to meet with another department.
Worse, we couldn’t hire anyone new unless we wanted to lease offices in nearby buildings or rent mobile office trailers. The trailers would keep people within walking distance, but then half of our employees would have to park somewhere else. Besides, our IT guy already complained about the networking situation in the building. I was pretty sure he’d blue-screen and lock up completely if I asked him to run Ethernet to the parking lot.
“Besides,” Trip was saying, “we’d always planned to bring in investors and go public one day. That’s why we filed as a C-corp instead of— Never mind. More business stuff. Anyway, we always planned to do this, although I didn’t think it’d happen so soon.”
“Are there any downsides?” I asked. “To doing it now, I mean.”
“Plenty. I know about most of them, but the unknown unknowns still worry me.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” I said with a level of confidence that I actually felt. “How can I help?”
“Keep doing what you do,” he said. “Although… I need to borrow Shari for a couple of weeks.”
“No problem. What for? Just out of curiosity.”
“To help with a business review. Then I’ll have to find similar companies so I can do a comp analysis.” He started thinking out loud. I understood most of it, which surprised me.
“How much are we talking about?” I asked when he finished. “I mean, what’s the company worth?”
“I’ll know more once I do a real comparison, but I can estimate based on earnings. Depends on the multiple, but… ten to twelve million.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say million?”
“Yep. Ten to twelve.”
“Seriously?”
He chuckled. “Business has been good, dude.”
“You can say that again.”
“Business has been good, dude.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Susan’s business manager arrived in October. Vonda Jarvis was an unimposing Black woman in her mid-fifties, neat, trim, and soft-spoken. Her clothes were more Reagan than Clinton, and I probably would’ve thought she was someone’s sweet old auntie if I hadn’t known who she really was. I discovered in the process that her appearance and manner were deliberate camouflage, a way to make people overlook and underestimate her. In reality, she had a business mind that rivaled Susan’s.
Vonda and two assistants spent several days in a hotel conference room with Trip and Shari, where they went through our entire business with a magnifying glass, an X-ray machine, and a scanning electron microscope. In fact, I suspected that Vonda’s bulky, unfashionable purse held a dual-column gas chromatograph, Hewlett-Packard model 5710A, with flame analyzing detectors. And hers would’ve been the turbo-charged floor model.
We’d provided her with bank statements, payroll numbers, and signed contracts, but Shari had to return to the office several times for more. Vonda wanted to see things like equipment leases, phone and internet bills, and even how much we spent on food and entertainment.
I was surprised and annoyed at the same time. Didn’t Susan trust us? Did she think we were serving lobster and caviar at staff meetings? As if! We ate doughnuts! And I paid for them. Personally! Trip was more laid-back about the whole process.
“Dude, it means she’s treating us like a real business.”
“We are a real business.”
“Yeah, I know. And so does she. But they want to make sure there aren’t any surprises. It’s called ‘due diligence’ for a reason.”
“I know,” I sulked, “but still… food and entertainment?”
“Relax. This is normal, especially for the amount we’re talking. I mean, this is textbook stuff, exactly what we did in B-school.”
“I suppose.”
“Besides, it makes me feel better that they’re asking for little stuff like that. It means they haven’t found any problems with the big stuff.”
“Why would they? You’re good at your job.”
“Yeah, thanks. But I still feel like an imposter sometimes, like I’m lucky no one’s figured out I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“But… you do.”
“I think so, yeah, but… The review’s forced me to get serious. Well, more serious. I mean, I have to justify every number, every decision. What if I’m wrong? That’s what happened last time. I screwed up, and a bunch of people lost their jobs. You and I lost a lot of money.”
I felt a glimmer of hope that he’d mentioned the people before the money.
“Anyway,” he continued, “the whole process has been worthwhile. I’d forgotten how much I like working with Susan. She’s really good. Like, Warren Buffet good.” He paused for a moment of speculation. “Any idea what she’s worth?”
“No clue,” I said. “Twenty or thirty million, for sure.”
“No way, dude. More like a hundred.” He considered it. “I’d say two or three, at least.”
“Hundred?”
“Million,” he added, in case I didn’t realize how many zeroes we were talking about. “It’s hard to tell with people like her. I mean, she’s investing three million in us, and this Vonda woman is too businesslike for it to be a large chunk of Susan’s net worth. This is single-digit drama. She’s putting two mil into the Lake Lanier project. So, five mil without batting an eye. That’s someone who’s worth two or three hundred.”
“Oh, wow. Okay.”
“And while we’re on the subject… you and I need to cough up at least a million.”
I blanched. “Each?”
“No, together. Brett said he can do a half-mil too.”
They were still partners in the property, even though he’d been traded to the Cleveland Indians.
“We’ll need to secure more funding for phases two and three,” Trip said, “but that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“If you say so.”
He nodded with more confidence than I felt. Then again, it was his department.
I mused aloud, “Did you ever think we’d be talking about millions of dollars like it’s nothing?”
“Of course. I mean, yeah, we had a few setbacks along the way, but I’ve always known we’d be successful.”
“Still… millions of dollars?”
“Dude, we knocked it out of the park last year. We’re way ahead of our initial projections in the business plan. PHD should be worth twenty-five million in two years.”
“Twenty-five—? Two years—?”
“Yep. And that’s just for starters. We’ll slow down after that, but our five-year projections are pretty ambitious. We’ll have to work our asses off to make it happen, but you’re up for it.”
“Hell, yes.”
“And you know I am.” We shared a grin before he continued, “Anyway, we’ll need to fly to Columbia in a couple of weeks to meet with Susan and her people. Can you borrow your dad’s plane?”
“I’ll ask. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Let’s talk about buying one of our own. Hold on, can you lease them?”
“Like a car? Probably, but I’m not sure.”
“Find out. I’ll look into the tax implications and let you know.”
“Will we really need it?”
“Absolutely. Susan wants a lot of work in South Carolina. And we have the Alabama project.”
“Yeah, but owning a plane is still pretty expensive. A lot more than a car.”
“Well, how much is a day of your time worth? That’s what it takes when you fly commercial, especially with layovers and the connecting flights to smaller airports.”
He was right. And they were usually long days—I flew out in the morning and returned around midnight. Worse, I spent the next day recovering and didn’t get much work done.
“And for what?” Trip continued relentlessly. “A two- or three-hour site visit? You don’t travel alone, either. Sometimes you take an entire team with you. Now, how does that compare to the operating cost of a plane?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“I have. Besides, we may have even more reason to travel soon.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m following up some leads. Guys I went to B-school with. One up near Lexington and another in Denver. Huge tech and aerospace business out there,” he added, “lots of opportunities.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? We aren’t gonna hit our projections if we don’t go for it. We’ll have to make sure we don’t grow too fast, but I think I can find a good balance.”
“Better you than me,” I said with genuine relief.
“Yep. You just keep doing what you do. On that note, have you thought about what kind of building you wanna design for our new global headquarters?”
“Global headquarters?” I grinned. His enthusiasm was infectious.
“Yeah. I wanna take us international. Eventually. We need to diversify. Trimble— Sorry, Scumbag screwed us because we put all our eggs in one basket. I’m not gonna make that mistake again.” He slapped his thighs and stood. “Anyway, I’ll warm up the bullpen for South Carolina.”
“And I’ll get back to work.”
“Time is money,” he agreed.
✧ ✧ ✧
In November we flew to South Carolina and met with Susan and her people, including Vonda Jarvis. Susan greeted us and made a round of introductions. In addition to Vonda, she’d brought a smaller than usual pack of attorneys, only three. Trip made the introductions for our side. Then he moved off with Shari and our own attorney to talk business with the others. I hung back with Susan.
“You look good,” she said.
“Thanks. You too. Very Van Gogh.”
She was dressed in a stylish Prussian blue pantsuit with a yellow and gold patterned scarf. She looked down at herself.
“You’re going to have to explain that one,” she said. “You’ve always seen the world a little differently, but… how do you get Van Gogh out of this?”
“Starry Night,” I said. “Your scarf is the color of the moon, and your suit is the same shade of blue. Well, mostly. The painting has some cerulean in it too.”
“Really? The outfit’s supposed to be Navy colors.”
“No, sorry. Navy blue doesn’t have any green in it. Not like that.”
“I think you’re right.” She pursed her lips, and her eyes glinted with affection. Then she glanced at the conference table and changed the subject. “Are you excited?”
“Yeah. But nervous too.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “This is all just a formality. Besides, your mom made me promise to be gentle with you.”
I blushed at the innuendo but then felt a stab of doubt. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because you and Mom—?”
“No, not at all. I’m doing it because I believe in you.”
“Thanks.”
“And don’t worry. Vonda wouldn’t let me spend this much unless the numbers made sense. We need a company like yours,” she continued. “We’re going to be paying for design and construction anyway. We might as well benefit from it.”
“True. But… why now?”
“You mean, why not before? With your first company?”
I nodded.
“Honestly? Because you hadn’t failed yet.”
I wrinkled my forehead, and she answered my unspoken question.
“You rarely learn from your successes. You learn from your mistakes.”
“No kidding.”
“So I was heartbroken when your company went under, but I waited to see what you’d do.” Her eyes crinkled with pride, and I felt like I was fifteen again. “You picked yourself up, dusted yourself off, and came back stronger than ever.”
“We didn’t have a choice.”
“Sure you did. Lots of people fail and never try again. They learn the wrong lesson, or don’t learn at all. But not you.”
“It was mostly Trip. He’s the driving force.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” she said. “You were right there with him, every step of the way. That’s what a good partnership is about.”
“True.”
“You and Trip have a very bright future. I plan to be a part of it for a long time.”
The youngest attorney approached us and waited respectfully. She had a moon-shaped face that made her look younger than she probably was.
“Are we ready?” Susan asked her.
“Yes, ma’am.”
We spent the next thirty minutes signing documents. The whole thing reminded me of selling a house. In a way, that’s exactly what it was. Then Susan’s half-pack of attorneys and our lone one conferred and nodded their approval.
“Well, that was easy,” Susan said.
Vonda opened a leather portfolio and withdrew a check. She handed it to Susan, who slid it across the conference table to Trip.
“Don’t spend it all in one place.”
✧ ✧ ✧
To be continued…
✧ ✧ ✧
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Big Ed Magusson.
And my team: J. Strickland • CompaniaHill • Craig • Empty Jay • Greg H • Jimmy M • JRB • LordPerfectSteve • Miz Pattay • Orblover • Ramblin’ Joe • Steve M • Terry • Turbo
Patreon Founders & Staff: A C • Alan C • Allen B • Allen C • Andrew C • Andy W • Anhinga M • Anthony K • Aratharas • ASailor • Austringer C • B&I • Bandeth S • Bernard vdL • Beteez • Big Ed M • Bill C • Bill R • Bill R • Blackstaff • Bobby` • Bowtie • Brett E • Brian F • Brian L • Burke J • Bw99 • Byron C • c • Caleb j • CampWashington • Chandler • Charles S • Charles W • Christian S • Christopher H • Chuck I • Claymo • CompaniaHill • Corey S • Dan • Dan P • Daniel • Daniel K • Daniel M • Dave L • dave q • David H • david h • David K • David S • David Z • DeepCat • Dennis N • Dennis W • Derek D • DK • Don N • doofus67 • Doug M • DrewT • Drose • Eduardo G • Edward M • Edward W • Empty J • Eunice w • Evan L • EW • Fillmore E • Ford P • Francis I • g • G.Orlando • Gary B • Gary T • George C • George G • Glenn T • Goalenator • Grant J • Greg H • greg h • Greg S • Greg S • GStoker • GuG • HobartPrime • Holoimajica • Hoppy631 • Hunter • Ian M • Isayisayisay • J • J.P. F • jack m • James P • Jarmo M • Jarrod L • Jay R • Jeff G • Jeff Y • Jerome S • Jfolts • Jim E • Jim E • Jim G • Jimmy M • JM • Joey L • John • john • john • John B • John G • John H • John p • John R • John S • John W • Johnny G • Jon C • Jonathan F • Joseph G • Joseph J • Joseph M • Joshua T • JV • K B • Kevin G • KEVIN M • Kiernan W • Kit M • KST • Larry C • Lars C • lcd • Les B • Luke P • Lynn B • Lynn B • MagicalGhost • Malcolm F • mark c • Mark H • Mark K • Mark r • Mark S • Mark S • Markj • Matthew H • Matthieu B • Meeeeh • Michael • Michael B • Michael F • MICHAEL P • Michael S • Michael S • Mike • Mike • Mike P • Mike S • Mike V • Mile D • Nate G • Nicholas C • Nicholas S • Nick M • NMS • NRC • Oscar U • Paco J • Parker D • Paul A • Paul B • Paul J • Paul J • Paul K • Peter C • Pyros • Pyrotech1 • R.C. B • Richard • Richard K • Rick M • RiffRaff • Ripley1982 • Rob W • Robert D • Robert J • Robert K • Robert L • Robert M • Robert S • Ron J • Ron L • Roy C • Rusty H • Ryan M • Sarpedon • Scott B • Scott • Scott L • Scott R • Sean C • Sean S • Sebastien C • SGR • Shane • Shaun M • Simon P • Stacey K • Steve • Steve G • Steven M • Stevenator • SteveZ • Strange1 • Tal S • Tekserve • Thomas H • ThrobbinRob • TK W • Tod H • Tom D • Tom H • Tom H • Tom K • Tom K • Tom L • Tony L-S • Travis J • Troy C • Vosinoc • W.A. S • Warren K • Warshadow • Wayne P • Wayne W • Wynder • Zalov
Comments
Nick Scipio
God, I don't miss those days. Heh.
Eric
Loved it! Especially the BSOD.
Thank you Nick.
Nick Scipio
Hey, she needed room for that gas chromatograph. 😏
Nick Scipio
TERB doesn't begin to describe me. Muwahahahahahahahaha! Oh, sorry. 😈
Vonda
Fonda's bulkky,unfashioable purse...........gave me a tickle!
I am very, very worried. If my guess is true, terb does not describe you. Excelent chapter! Excelent everything to be fair!. I am re reading from the very first chapter, so it will not end soon, you know?
