by J K Franko
“Oh, and I added one company at the last minute,” he added, casually, sliding a copy of the investor deck across the board table to his partner. “Seemed interesting. They’re competitive with Procurex.”
David read the company name on the folder and then looked at Roy askance.
Roy tried not to groan. David’s paranoia was back. Not disclosing his visit to TrueData before the trip was going to be a problem. But then, the original objective had simply been to pump McCall for information. It had only been as he was making his way home that he realized that both McCall and TrueData could ultimately form part of their master plan. Now, having putting the meeting on his schedule without any internal discussion whatsoever was naturally going to get Mr. Paranoia’s attention.
“Okay. I’ll bite,” David said. “What the fuck?”
“How do you mean?” Roy half-smiled.
“Man, one of my meetings in Austin was with Procurex—their competition. You know that. You also know they’re suing each other. We’ve done no screening on TrueData. Nothing. Zip. But then you go and meet with them anyway... what the fuck’s going on, Roy?”
Roy widened his eyes, dramatically, as if he was surprised by David’s outburst. “Well,” he began with maximum composure, “David, nothing’s ‘going on.’ It just kind of popped up. And since I was there already, and we know the space some from the work you’ve done on Procurex—great work, by the way—I thought I’d have a quick look. Besides, they’re suing each other—doesn’t hurt to hear both sides of the story.”
The compliment seemed to assuage David. His posture appeared to relax.
Roy moved to drive the message home. “I had a couple of beers with the CEO. This guy, McCall, he seems like the real deal. He’s taken the company from nothing to three major contracts—including L.A. County—in the nine months since he moved to Seattle. Everything is trending positive, but... ” Roy paused, “...the company is on the ropes. I mean, he put up a good front, but this lawsuit’s gonna kill them. And we both know how it’ll end.”
“Only the lawyers’ll make money.”
“McCall knows that, too.”
“And... ?” David asked.
“Right. So, I was thinking. McCall needs cash to fight the lawsuit, and to just plain grow. He’s in a weak position right now. They have a good product, revenue in place, contracts in place, and a legit business model. But, there’s this fucking suit hanging out there that’s basically startup syphilis. I think we could get a good chunk of the company at a low valuation because of the lawsuit—they’ll go down on their stock price if the money’s real.”
“Okay. But what about this litigation?”
“Well, that’s the thing. We’d have to be in a position to know that it’s going away. Dead certain. So, what if we buy part of the company cheap while the lawsuit’s an issue, then make it go away? Cha-ching!”
David smiled. He loved the strategy of the business game. He understood the numbers and business models, the SWOT analyses, all the MBA bullshit. But it was the real-world issues that really got his juices flowing. And, really, that’s where the big money was hidden.
“From what I read in the court file,” David said, “there’s only two people that can make that happen. McCall and Stern.”
“Yeah, but McCall mentioned that there’s another guy on the team at Procurex that’s the government connection—Dad’s in congress or something, um...” He deliberately didn’t speak the name and glanced over at the file.
“Harlan,” David filled in, as expected.
“Right. Joe. I haven’t met him, but the CEO mentioned him being really connected. Dad’s also in a law firm. Apparently, the lawyer representing Procurex is a family friend; sounds like he’s handling the suit as a favor—at least that’s how McCall made it sound.”
“So, you’re thinking we make a lowball offer—real money on the table—to McCall for a big piece of TrueData, and somehow we finagle getting Procurex to drop the lawsuit by getting at this Harlan guy?”
“I’m willing to bet that this kid doesn’t care if he owns a piece of TrueData or of Procurex, as long as he makes money, right? If he got a job offer at TrueData, doing his government thing, with some equity, I’ve got to believe that he would be disinclined to have his dad’s friend suing the company. And, I’m willing to bet that his memory about ‘who did what’ might change as far as the lawsuit goes. What do you think?”
David smiled. “It could work. We’d have to be sure we had this guy Harlan in the bag. But, if he’s willing to play ball... it’s a delicate balance. McCall, though... you think he’ll work with this guy?”
“If we buy enough of the company, we’re on the board. We make him do it.”
David thought about this. Then said, “Maybe we should see what this guy is like—Harlan? And find out if McCall will lower his price? I mean, I have some reservations, but it could work.”
Roy nodded. “Makes sense. How about I contact McCall and tell him we’re interested, but it’s got to be at a much lower price. See what he says. While he’s thinking that over, we get this Harlan guy in and check him out. Maybe even make a pitch to have him come over to TrueData, but the lawsuit has to go away... ”
David glanced out of the window and Roy could almost see those cogs turning. Then he turned back to him, “That’s pretty fucking good, Roy. I mean, the timing’s got to work. But if it does, it could be a winner for us. And for McCall.”
“And for Harlan.”
“Yeah. Let’s give it a go,” David said.
“Cool. Okay. So, I’ll get on the horn with McCall, make him a lowball offer and see what he says. Then we need to see about getting Harlan on board. Why don’t we fly him down here? Cheaper than both of us going to Austin.”
“Yep. I’ll give him a call. Stroke his ego a bit. Get him down here for a little wine and dine, and then we make the pitch.”
“Great.” Roy looked at the calendar on his phone. “Let’s shoot for about two weeks, the last week of April?”
“Got it,” David agreed.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“Hello, Marty? Roy Cruise here.”
“Roy! How are you, man? Your flight back okay?”
“Fine, Marty. Long, cramped, and bad food. Otherwise, fantastic.”
McCall forced a laugh. Roy noticed this so he got straight to it. “So, listen… we’re really liking what we’re seeing with your company. You’ve got great tech. A great platform. Solid team. And the early results are good. But... I think we’re going to sit on the sidelines for a while.”
There was a short pause as McCall absorbed the last comment.
“Come on, Roy, everything before ‘but’ is bullshit.”
Roy laughed. “Yeah. Well, the problem is the lawsuit, man. You know I was a lawyer before I got into investing. I know litigation. And lawsuits are about a lot of things, but the merits aren’t one of them. First off, they’re extremely expensive. They’re distracting. They’re bad PR. And, there’s always the off chance that you can lose even a bullshit case.
“It just really ups the risk profile of a company. And I saw enough risk in my lawyer days to last me a lifetime. Don’t get me wrong. I love TrueData. We just need the lawsuit gone before we can do anything.”
“Roy. Come on. You’re killing me, man. I told you how we’re handling it. It’s barely an issue. We’ve got great lawyers. I guarantee, it isn’t and it won’t be a distraction.”
Roy didn’t respond. Instead, he relaxed back in his chair, placing his feet on the desk. He wanted the guy to sweat.
The young man finally spoke, eagerly. “Listen, Roy. Just tell me what I need to do to prove to you that it won’t impact your investment.”
“Marty, risk has to be tied to return—the greater the risk, the greater the return. Right now, we see a lot of risk.” He shrugged, as if McCall could see
him through the phone line. “The only way I can see to mitigate that risk is by discounting for it.”
The startup founder fell silent. Traffic rumbled in the distance. He mumbled, “Discounting by how much?”
“To be fair, it can’t be any less than sixty percent.”
“Shit, Roy! That’s fucking nuts! You want me to sell you part of my company at a sixty percent discount because of a bullshit lawsuit? That’s insane, man!”
“It may seem that way, Marty, but if this lawsuit goes south and we lose all our money, what do I tell my investors then? That we paid market price for a piece of a great company, knowing full well that it was being sued? That would be insane, Marty.”
There was more silence.
Roy continued, “I tell you what, Marty. I appreciate that it’s a difficult decision for you. Don’t answer now. Sleep on it. I know it isn’t the number you were expecting, but with that lawsuit out there, it’s probably the best you’re going to get, at least from us.” He paused. “Let’s talk again in a couple of weeks.”
“Okay, Roy,” McCall said, glumly. “And hey, thanks for seeing the value. I’m not sure I agree with you on the litigation risk, but let me have a think. Let me see what I can come up with, if I can find a way around it.”
“Sure, Marty. Sounds good. Take care.”
Roy hung up the phone and folded his arms behind his head. He knew the game, and he was giving Marty McCall a crash course. He’d been doing this long enough to be able to read people. He knew that Marty would get back to him. It was only a matter of time.
A few minutes later, his computer pinged. It was too soon to be Marty.
He sat up and checked his laptop. It was a new calendar invitation. One that brought a smile to his face.
Invite:Meeting with Joe Harlan
Attendees: David Kim, Roy Cruise, Joe Harlan
Date:May 3
Time:9:00 a.m. – 11:00 a.m.
Location: Cruise Capital, Miami
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Susie waited for her weekly grocery run to buy the two six-packs of beer that were the only remaining purchases on her to-do list. She packed up and stored all of the other items as planned, ensuring that the beer went into the mini-fridge on the Yellowfin. She also double-checked to make sure that the fish knife was stowed in the drawer where she normally kept it.
As she walked back to the house, she saw Roy standing on the terrace. He waved to her and they met halfway at the pool.
“Hey, lover!” she said.
Roy smiled. She only called him that when she was horny.
“Hello, angel.” They kissed softly on the lips.
“Maybe we should take this into the cabana?” she purred.
“That would be nice.”
As they moved in that direction, Susie’s mobile phone rang. She looked at the display, at Roy, and then frowned. “It’s the resort. Bimini.”
Roy left her talking and went upstairs to change into his around-the-house clothes. Having grown up a step below lower-middle class—though not quite poor—Roy had gotten used to the idea of having around-the-house clothes. While Susie would come home in her work clothes, kick off her heels, and just start doing things around the house, Roy felt compelled to change as soon as he got home. In general, if Roy was home, he was in an old pair of jeans and an old law school t-shirt of some sort.
As he came down the stairs, he could hear Susie’s voice. Still on the phone.
He swung by the kitchen to grab a snack, then followed her voice into her office to find her sitting behind her desk, phone still to her ear.
“It’s a sixty-foot yacht. Thirty-amp power,” she said, pausing to take a delicate sip of Pinot Grigio from her long-stemmed wine glass. “Stern power hook-up, starboard side. We’ll be staying on board. Yeah. Uh huh. The vessel’s name is ‘Lady Suze.’”
She lifted her eyebrows, smiled, and blew him a kiss. “Yes. That’s right—seven nights. Fisherman’s Village Marina is fine. Yes please, can you use the card on file? Yes? Perfect. No. You can just email me the confirmation. Anything else?” After a final pause, she said, “Thank you. No, that’s it. Thanks very much. Goodbye.”
She hung up and turned to her husband who had flopped onto the sofa, eating grapes.
“All set,” she said. “Seven nights, beginning April 28.” She held her glass up in a toast.
Roy smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. “Here we go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Frank and Joe had always been the cool roommates. Marty was the book-smart odd man out.
Marty didn’t like to party. It not only rhymed, it was true.
He didn’t party like Frank and Joe. Not like a rock star.
When he thought about it, Joe realized that he really hadn’t partied like a rock star either—not until he’d met Frank. Frank took it all to a whole new level.
Joe blamed his tendency to repress his desires on Harlan Sr. Dear old dad was always sneaking around with women, always worried about “appearances.” A complete hypocrite.
Joe still remembered when he’d had his first inkling of his father’s secret life. He’d been just a kid. His mother had still been alive, but bed-ridden, already diagnosed with the big C.
She was getting chemo and having a bad time of it. Her hair had fallen out. Joe remembered because he’d given her his baseball cap from his little league team. She had cried.
Joe’s father had hired a lady, Nurse Sally, to help with Mom. Joe’s dad worked late, and wasn’t always there for his wife—he couldn’t be.
One night, a Texas-sized storm rolled in. The rain and thunder hammered against the windows and lightning made phantoms of the furniture. Little Joe wanted to go his parents’ room, as he always did on stormy nights. But since his mother had been sick, their room had gotten scary. It smelled bad, like medicine and sweat.
So, Joe thought he would go to see if he could sleep with Nurse Sally. When he went to the guest room, he saw that the light was on under the door, and there was noise coming from the room—a slapping noise. The door was closed, but it was an old house, and there was a good-sized gap between the bottom of the door and the floor—no threshold.
Joe carefully laid down on the floor, slid up to the door, and put his right eye up close to the gap. He couldn’t see everything, but he could make out that Nurse Sally was there. He could see her hands and feet. She was on the floor next to the bed in a crawling position. Like a dog.
He could also make out that his dad was kneeling on the floor behind her. Moving. His movements were in synch with the rhythmic slapping sound.
Meanwhile, Joe’s mother was two rooms down the hall, dying.
“That’s some fucked up shit,” was all Frank had to say when Joe told him about it. Although, he understood. Frank’s father was on his fourth wife, and Frank was pretty sure he also had at least one other chick on the side.
“Of course, I’m fucked up,” Frank would say. “If it’s not nature, then it’s nurture. With a dad like mine, what do you expect?”
Frank stood by Joe through the whole Kristy bullshit. Of course, Frank kind of had to. The roofies had been his idea. He was the one who put them in her drink. But still, he’d been there for Joe the whole time.
What happened next only served to bring them closer. Marty bailed on both of them, and took the company with him.
That whole mess brought Frank and Joe together. True friends. Joe knew he could count on Frank. So, when Joe got the call from David Kim, he had to tell him. He couldn’t leave Frank out in the cold.
“What do you think, man?” Joe asked.
“It’s awesome. Miami’s amazing. Have you ever been?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Awesome club scene,” Frank said, making a hang-ten sign with his hand. “Amazing chicks. And these guys are the real deal. Cru
ise Capital makes companies happen, man. If we can get them to fund us, we’re golden.” He paused, then asked, “Have you told your dad yet?”
Ever since Kristy, Joe’s old man had been keeping a pretty tight rein on his son. If there was a deal to be done with Cruise Capital, Joe’s father would need to be in the loop.
“Nah. I have to, yeah, but I wanted to run it by you first.”
“Look, Joe, if these guys want to fund us, great. If it’s just about a gig for you, that’s cool, too. It can’t hurt to hear them out. You know me, I’m all about possibilities, my man.”
“Okay. But, I’m gonna tell ‘em we’re a package deal. If they want me, they’ve gotta hire us both.”
“That’s my boy! Bros before hos!” Frank said, initiating a fist bump. Joe bumped in return.
“Speaking of…” Joe looked at his phone. “It’s almost nine, dude. Want another beer?”
“Sure.”
Joe went to Frank’s refrigerator. As he retrieved two Bud Lights, the apartment doorbell rang. By the time he made it back to the living room, Frank had already answered it.
“The girls are here!” he yelled.
They stepped into the living room. Small skirts, big hair, too much makeup. Frank was appraising them both from behind as he followed them in.
“Hello, ladies,” Joe said, tossing Frank his beer.
Frank caught it, and then the hand of one of the girls, and led her toward his bedroom.
The remaining young woman smiled at Joe and said, “Hi, I’m Sheila.” She looked young even with all the makeup. Joe wondered exactly how young.
“You over eighteen?” he asked.
“You wanna see my ID?” she asked, nervous.
“Nah. Not knowing for sure makes it more fun,” he said, unzipping his pants and stepping closer to her. Then, he announced, “Sheila, let me introduce you to Big Joe.”
Sheila came toward Joe, then knelt down in front of him. Her hands trembled as she reached for him.