The Truth

I don’t need a throne of a chair to remind myself that I’m the king of the castle.

I went with my definition of modern luxury. Taking out the thick patterned carpeting, I replaced it with high-quality, solid gray carpet that allows my modern office chair to roll easily. My desk is black laminate and steel tubing, efficient and sleek, elegant in its functional architecture.

It’s an office meant to create a future, not rest on the laurels of the past.

And as such, we must continue to move forward, researching and discussing opportunities and investing Fox’s considerable time, money, and efforts where they will be most profitable.

Which is why I’ve called this meeting with one of our acquisitions teams today. Mark, Brandon, and Shaun sit around the conference table in my office, eyeing each other warily. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind telling them to fuck off so I can relax in the seating area by the large windows that overlook the valley. But that’s not my job.

No, my job is to tease away the potential value in this deal from Mark and Brandon’s personal feelings for one another. They’re cut from the same cloth—both in their early thirties, with good instincts, and a willingness to learn from their mistakes. But their similarities put them at odds with one another, their ambition and competitive natures making their dislike for each other apparent. I’ve put them on the same team, though, because that hunger makes them work harder than the man at the next desk. Despite their reluctance to admit it, they make each other better. And Shaun provides a level-headed buffer for the other two more temperamental men.

“I’m sure you’ll see on page eleven, Daniel, that this company is on the cutting edge of some innovative technologies,” Mark says as we hash over a few of my thoughts from the weekend. “The market potential there is huge.”

Brandon hums in agreement. “And we’d do well to buy them while they need an influx of funds to bankroll that. The increased name recognition alone would position Fox as the leaders in the market. The short-term profits could be nine figures at a minimum.”

“But if we wait, someone else might step in to provide the funds and get that advantage instead of Fox,” Mark warns. “The long-term damage from skipping this could come back to bite us in the ass. They’re in need now.”

“And even if we do divest, the buzz we can generate for them would easily push the stock up ten to twenty points,” Brandon concludes. “The old buy low, sell high method. Never fails.”

It all seems very rehearsed, but that doesn’t offend me in the slightest. To the contrary, I want my people to bring me prepared, well-thought out, insightful ideas, and their tag-team presentation demonstrates that they can work together. At least on reading a slide show and some charts.

But the team isn’t just Brandon and Mark. I turn to the other man at the table, Shaun. The youngest member of the team, I brought him in on a gut feeling. He’s hungry in a different way. Whereas Mark and Brandon want money and power, Shaun wants knowledge. He’s watchful, not only about potential deals but about everything. The numbers don’t quite speak to the amount of talent the young man originally from Atlanta has if he’s given the chance to spread his wings.

“Shaun, what’s your view on the deal?”

He strokes chin before answering. “I don’t quite share Mark and Brandon’s rosy view on the short term,” he finally admits, “considering the average rate of success that so many of these sorts of companies and projects have had, historically. But at the same time, I do think that the long-term potential is worth it. Even if their current R&D projects don’t pan out, the knowledge base and expertise they’ve assembled means that sooner rather than later, they’re going to make an advancement that’ll make the investment worthwhile. We’re investing in the inventors, not the invention, so to speak.”

“You’d go for it,” I surmise, and he dips his chin decisively.

It’s a good answer, and together with Mark and Brandon’s hard sell and my own deep data dive over the weekend, it helps make up my mind.

Finally, I nod. “Okay, let’s do it. Get with legal and pull together a final contract. I already talked to them about adding in a clause of patent ownership and control in favor of Fox. I don’t want any issues. Take the payoffs and cash the checks. It’s all business. Our business.”

The three of them nod, Mark and Brandon fighting smiles of triumph while Shaun scribbles a few notes. “Good. Anything else?”

There’s nothing, and they’re eager to move to the next phase, so we wrap things up. The three men leave, and I go back to my desk, considering the magnitude of what I just verbally signed off on. Literally, we’re talking billions of dollars.