No harm, no foul, time to party.
We fully intended to sell off the computer chip manufacturing arm of Allen’s business within a few months of closing the deal. But we didn’t care what happened to the operation after that. Manufacturing could stay in New York City or move to fucking Bumfuck Egypt for all I cared. That would be a fight between Allen—if he hung on as CEO— and whomever bought our interest in the plant.
My guess was that there would be a legal challenge by Allen and his allies on the board, but it would be a moot point.
We would have the votes to support the deal, and every legal right to sell.
There wasn’t a fucking thing anyone could do about it.
In my mind, the only asset of real, long-term value that Benson Digital owned was the patent to its new chip designs. And those patents could easily be cut free of the rest of the company’s assets. If Allen Benson would have just sold us the patents in the first place, we would have let him keep the manufacturing operation because we had no use for it.
I went into the kitchen and rang Reed’s cell phone while pulling the makings of our late lunch from the fridge. Reed never answered his phone. He always let it go straight to voice mail, then he’d decided if you were worth of a call back.
I left a message I knew would make him call me back.
“Hey, it’s me. The deal is done. Call me back if you want a little good news.”
I slid the phone into the back pocket of my jeans and got to making lunch. I had called ahead to have the house manager stock the fridge before we arrived. We were only going to be there overnight, so she just brought in what we’d need for snacks and a light afternoon meal, and breakfast goodies for the morning. Dinner tonight would be catered by the best restaurant on the island.
I took out a head of lettuce and a plastic container of cherry tomatoes and set them on the counter. There was a container of chicken soup the house manager’s wife made for us. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anything that was “homemade”. I poured it into a pot and put it on a stove eye to warm. I leaned down to take a whiff. It reminded me of the chicken soup my mother made when I was a kid.
As I was about to wash the lettuce and tomatoes, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I turned off the faucet, switched the eye under the soup to Low, and stepped out onto the back deck.
“Why don’t you answer your fucking phone, asshole?” I asked playfully. I glanced toward the hallway door off the other side of the kitchen. No sight of Katie. I assumed she was still in the study on the far end of the house talking to her uncle. I didn’t have to worry about being overheard.
“I was busy fucking your sister, dickweed,” Reed said.
“The jokes on you, ass wipe,” I said. “I don’t have a sister. You must be fucking my brother.”
“Your brother takes it like a man,” Reed said with a laugh. “So, tell me how it went. Are you finished already? That didn’t take long.”
“If it was up to her we’d still be on the first page,” I said, standing at the railing in the cool afternoon air. The sun was high in the sky. Its rays warmed me enough that I didn’t worry about a jacket. The beach was deserted. The only thing I could see on the water was a sailboat a mile or so out. It was almost as if Katie and I had the Hamptons all to ourselves.
“So, she’s a real ball buster, huh?” Reed asked. “I could tell just by looking at her. Probably a lesbian, too. Don’t worry partner. Take her out for drinks and you’ll be in her granny panties by dinnertime.”
“She’s meticulous,” I said, ignoring his remarks rather than laughing at them. “I just told her to tell me what good old Uncle Allen was worried about and we’d hammer out the solution.”
The humor left his voice. “Did she say anything about the patents? Did they come up at all?”
“Not a fucking word,” I said shaking my head. “She’s a contracts lawyer. If it’s not specifically spelled out in the contract, she doesn’t pay much attention to it. She’s not going to do a full audit the way a forensic accountant would.”
“And we buried any mention specifically of the patents the company holds?”
“Yep. And we were smart to do so. We convinced Allen’s lawyer to lump the patents in with the clause ‘other proprietary assets’ so they never even came up.”
“That’s excellent,” Reed said, chuckling. “Then what was Benson so worried about?”
“He’s concerned that we’re going to take over the board and move the manufacturing operation offshore,” I said, rolling my eyes at the man’s stupidity. Allen Benson was a nice guy, but his devotion to his employees was blinding him to what was really important. I didn’t feel a single pang of guilt. He was going to walk away with millions of dollars. That kind of money could assuage a lot of hurt feelings.
“So, let me get this straight,” Reed said. “He’s concerned that we’ll vote him out of office, shut down the plant in New York City, and move the jobs south to Mexico.”
“That’s it,” I said. “He’s a very altruistic fellow, this Allen Benson.”
“Altruistic and gullible,” Reed said. “I assume you put Miss O’Hara’s mind at ease?”
I glanced through the window in the kitchen door. Still no sign of Katie.
“I did exactly that,” I said. “I told her we would be fine adding a sentence or two stating that Price Bean & Whitlock would not take measures to oust Allen from the CEO chair, or shut down the plant and move the jobs offshore.”