Yeah, just who did he think he was?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I saw Sloane Huyler today,” Randall plopped down in a comfortable leather chair without an invitation. Maria Canovalli looked up from her work, about to throw him out even if he was an important colleague and source of clients. He never knocked or asked if she had a minute. He just assumed everyone had time for him. She guessed it came from growing up so privileged.
Maria, on the other hand, knew nothing of privilege. She had attended the University of Chicago on a full academic scholarship, studying economics, longing for a career in finance. Joining a small exclusive investment banking firm had been a godsend. They had allowed her to work days and continue at U of C for her MBA in its evening program, even picking up the tab. She felt like part of the family; after seven years on the job, she was on track for partnership any day.
It didn’t hurt that she didn’t tell Randall off when he was rude or presumptuous. She knew when to hold her tongue and when to speak up – whether she was dealing with senior partners, colleagues or clients. She had not gotten the opportunity to handle key clients just because she knew finance.
“How is she doing? Things have been really rough for her this year. I am not sure how I would handle things if I were in her shoes. I like her. She’s brash, and you know I like that in a woman.”
“Rough is an understatement. I imagine there are days when she doesn’t want to get out of bed. And trust me, less than two years ago, she was the queen bee and she knew it. A lot of people were happy to see her take this tumble, but she deserves better.”
“Well, she has a good head on her shoulders, Randall. She understands exactly what HI is up against in this pursuit of a buyer. They might have stood a chance of a merger if the management team hadn’t jumped ship, but without their influence, it will have to be a relatively cheap acquisition. Not ideal, but better than bankruptcy.”
“Maria, just inside these four walls, if no buyer appears by Labor Day, or a buyer tries to lowball, let me know and I will pour some cash into Huyler. I will not let Sloane go into bankruptcy.”
Maria’s eyes grew wide as saucers. There was something going on here that was not in any of the documents or emails that had passed between her and Randall when he referred HI.
“What do I need to know, Randall?”
“Nothing for now; keep trying forging a deal, but you have an ‘in case of emergency’ option in your back pocket. Oh, and that stays between us, of course.”
“Of course. You got it, Sir,” Maria responded with a crisp salute and a smile. After a few minutes spent discussing other shared clients Randall left her to ponder what he had told her. The offer was as out of character for Randall as anything she had ever seen.
Even in the best situation, it would take millions to save Huyler, and if Maria understood that, so did Randall. The PHPP board would never approve an investment from PPHP, so Randall had to be implying that he would invest his personal funds to save HI. Although his personal fortune was sizable, Maria knew that this would cause a very healthy dent.
If she didn’t want Sloane-- or her father to be more precise-- to take Randall down with her, she needed to close a deal with one of the companies she was pursuing. There were two interested but neither was attracted enough to move quickly. Both were cautious about everything. Maria knew that Huyler Industries would be cheaper for a buyer the longer it was on the market. So did they, so neither company was anxious to move. Unfortunately for Sloane and her employees, time was of the essence.
Just 15 minutes later, after considering Randall’s statement from every angle, Maria took a brisk walk down two flights of stairs and to the other side of the building to the PHPP offices and knocked gently on the doorframe of Randall’s corner office. He motioned to the phone, held up one finger and motioned her to a chair. She interpreted the signal to mean he would be one more minute and stepped in, sliding onto a comfortable, worn leather sofa set against the wall. She picked up a travel magazine from the table in front of her and prepared to wait.
“Perfect. She never knew what hit her, did she? You did great. Yeah, thanks, Bro and tell Regan she has my undying gratitude too. It should be fun. Expensive, sure, but we still need fun. Gotta go. See you, later? The club? Yeah, tomorrow morning. Okay. Bye.”
Moving from behind the large desk, Randall joined Maria near the couch, dropping his large frame into an oversized wingback chair and propping his feet comfortably on the coffee table. He could have been waiting for a ball game to start on TV he looked so relaxed, but Maria knew that the moment she talked shop she would have his undivided attention.
“I have been thinking,” she began slowly, placing the magazine neatly back in the fanned stack, “about Huyler. I could actually use some advice. I have located two potential buyers but from what we are able to tell, neither is poised to move. I think Steel Frank is the better option. They want those existing contracts and more of the employees than AF Brooks does. Sloane should be able to get a higher price from them.”
“I agree,” Randall said, leaning forward, returning his feet to the floor to rest his elbows on his knees. Maria recognized the posture. He was fully engaged, his attention laser focused. “So what is the issue? Timing? What is standing in the way of moving them forward? Price doesn’t actually seem to be a factor for Steel Frank as much as for Brooks, so it has to be something else.”
“Publicity and reputation maybe? The taint is not fully off Huyler yet. I thought I had that fixed though. I talked to the attorneys about a closed door deal that would keep publicity down.”
“Good plan.”
“Thanks, but they didn’t budge, so that wasn’t key, I guess.”
“What about Sloane herself. Have they been told she is stepping aside? That could be a factor. No senior management from Huyler to interfere with their plans. She would stay for a smooth transition of course, but then move on.”
“That might make a difference. Personally, I think if that doesn’t get a response it will mean they fear losing the existing contracts. We need to prove that the buyer retains all the rights and commitments that Huyler has now, that a buyout won’t void the HI contracts.”
“That might be just the key, Maria. That uncertainty would keep me from buying, if I was the decision maker.”
“I already have our lawyers looking for anything we might have missed, Sloane is getting the additional documentation they requested. I have Joanie and Seth over at the law firm reviewing the contract terms, but they may need more help to move things fast enough.”
“I agree. You need to get more of your staff and lawyers working on this. You can take those two associates, LuAnn and Alan, who you have working with us on our strategic plans. I will let them know they have been reassigned. Try to get a full review done by the end of next week, and then let’s talk again. Sound like a plan?”
“Sounds perfect, Randall. Thanks.”
Randall had already picked up the phone to contact LuAnn’s boss before Maria was out of earshot.
Maria did not hear the conversation about Alan or she would have heard something slightly different from the call about LuAnn. He did get Alan reassigned to the project, but Randall also asked Alan to provide him with a list of all the contracts they were reviewing and the name and phone number for the key decision maker at each company. Randall demanded it by Friday. With no further explanation, Randall told him the list was ‘just between the two of us.’
Having taken care of that, Randall went to the Children’s Hospital website and got the necessary information about the benefit. Then he placed a call to the head of his HR department asking her to purchase a table for the event on behalf of PPHP if she had not already done so.
“We have two, sir. But you told me to offer the seats to our top annual performers and their clients, so I did.”
“Are they going? Find out please, Carly. I need one entirely empty table that I plan to fill personally. If you cannot arrange that fr
om the two we already bought, buy a third, please.”
“Happy to handle that for you, Randall. It is certainly well within our foundation budget and guidelines. I will take care of it now and get back to you shortly.”
Randall checked the markets and was happy to discover they had closed ‘up’ for the day. He handled some issues for the company’s most important clients and sent his father an email summarizing a few corporate activities in case he wanted to be bothered with them.
His father was chasing the early snows in South America like a surfer chases waves. He managed to ski almost twelve months a year now. When Randall’s mother was still alive, the family spent the winters skiing together, but since her death, the Parker family hobby had become his father’s obsession.
Randall missed having family around him. As an only child, his mother had fussed over him and he had flourished under her love. His father, in contrast, had been a strict disciplinarian with high expectations and no room for excuses. By high school, the demands relaxed but by then Randall knew they expected him to be a top achiever. Together, his parents had provided the balance a precocious and overly intelligent child needed. Once he was a young adult they had given him enough rope to hang himself and instead Randall had soared.
He was a young star at the office, taking over more and more of his father’s responsibility without slowing his stride. That worked out well when his mother became ill and his father lost interest in everything but her. Suzanne had been fighting a hepatitis infection since childhood and each time it reoccurred she became weaker and weaker until the doctors recommended hospice. Not long after, she died.
The two men struggled to connect after that. His father became inconsolable and withdrawn. He started traveling to avoid their empty home. Randall buried himself in work and women. They exchanged emails for almost a year before his father returned to sell the Lake Forest house and move to Aspen permanently. He retained an office at PPHP but almost never used it. Instead, the men would meet for a week or two of skiing at Lake Tahoe or Aspen each winter with Wyatt, Tyler and Alex tagging along as company and to serve as a much-needed buffer. His father and he had become colleagues and friends. There were long stretches of silence, or email, but they reconnected for the few weeks they were together. The arrangement worked for them.
Randall had learned to be something of a lone wolf. He kept his own counsel,
worked hard and played harder. He dated a revolving door of beautiful women who meant nothing to him, tamped whatever loneliness he felt in a few too many drinks, and played hockey or lifted weights to burn off excess energy and keep fit for his latest lady.
Wyatt, Tyler and Alex were the brothers he’d wished he had; he would trust them with his life. He would give them the shirt off his back and he knew they would do the same. He had not felt this need to protect and care for someone since his mother had died--until Sloane. He had never felt this willingness to put someone’s needs ahead of his. Suddenly there was this feisty, difficult woman tying him in knots. He was jumping through hoops for her, risking his reputation, and perhaps his fortune. He would do more, too, if he just knew what it would take to win her.
How the hell do I outmaneuver a woman known for her ability to outmaneuver everyone else?
Randall texted Alex, checking to verify that he would be at the East Bank Club after work. Alexander Gaines had the best head on his shoulders of anyone that Randall knew and his perspective on Sloane, as a girlfriend and as an investment, would give Randall a badly needed second opinion.
Within minutes Randall received the response he’d hoped for and a plan was made to meet in the weight room around 7:00 PM. Randall hated working out at night, preferring to lift before his workday began. He knew his buddies felt the same, since they saw each other most mornings in the upscale health club. Had Alex worked out already and agreed to lift again just to spend the time with Randall? If so, he would never confess it, but Randall suspected it and was grateful.
Dragging a bit lately, Randall had been unable to motivate himself to make it to East bank by 5:30 AM. He felt the weight of Sloane’s problems on his shoulders and the burden was a heavy one to bear. He was not exactly sure when he made her problems his own but he could not shake his need to solve this mess for her. So he dragged into work every morning, exhausted from worrying. It needed to stop here so he could get back to his peak performance. He had the gala covered and Alex would help him figure out the rest.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Don’t wimp out on me now, Randall. This workout was your idea.”
“Yeah, stupid me. I forgot what a tough taskmaster you can be, Alex. Give me a friggin’ break. It is almost 8:00 and I am exhausted.”
“And that, my fine fellow, is why you work out before you go to work and not when you are beat and dying to relax. Give me three more reps and we can call it a night.”
Randall pushed the heavy weights up from his chest counting out the three last presses. His chest muscles bulged with the effort, his arms quivered under the strain but he completed the task. Grabbing the nearby towel, he wiped the sweat dripping from his face, wiped down the bench as he rose from it and took a deep draught from the water bottle he kept handy.
“Remind me not to invite you to join me here again,” he said to Alex in a petulant tone that both knew he didn’t mean.
“You’ll thank me for this moment when you are taking your shirt off for some babe next weekend,” Alex responded wisely.
Randall stood a little taller at the allusion to his body. His flat stomach, broad chest, strong arms and legs were a testament to his hard work in the gym and on the ice. He was proud of the way he stayed in shape. It certainly didn’t hurt that women found him a hunk too.
“OK, lazy, meet you at the bar in twenty minutes or less, so don’t get too far ahead of me on drinks,” Randall told Alex, still annoyed that he’d worked out alone. He really needed to start getting out of bed early again. Alex had been in the gym that morning and again at lunch. Since he was in training, he insisted on staying on his regimen, refusing to lift with Randall. Instead, Alex kept his friend company and pushed his limits.
Freshly showered, dark hair still damp, Randall walked to the far end of the bar, catching the eye of several women along the way. He joined Alex, quickly downed a large glass of ice water, and then ordered a Sam Adams. The bartender put the bottle in front of Randall, confirmed that he would run a tab and moved away, leaving the men alone hidden in a quiet booth at the end of the club’s bar.
“So, now will you tell me what this is all about?” Alex began without preamble.
“Whatever do you mean? Did you think I had some ulterior motive for meeting up?”
“No, Randall. I know you have some ulterior motive. What is going on? Is it work or a woman?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, its both,” he admitted sheepishly. “It is a work problem that I acquired because of a woman.”
“Randall, are we still discussing Sloane? You have got to let go of this rescue fantasy before she takes you down with her.”
Okay, this was the advice I came here for. Alex calls it like it is and I just need to heed his sound advice.
“I hear you man. I do. But I cannot let this one go. First, she is paying for a crime that she did not commit and second, she intrigues the hell out of me.”
“Okay, first,” Alex stressed the word, “she has you by the balls, and second, you are assuming she is not guilty. If we are going to discuss this, let’s discuss this honestly. If you were not so hot for her, you would not necessarily believe she was innocent. You weren’t so sure before you wanted to get in her pants.”
Damn, I hate when Alex is right.
“Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, that you are right and I am hot for Sloane, as you so tactfully put it. And let’s also say that this attraction is clouding my judgment….”
“Randall, let me just stop you right there, cause after a couple more drinks you are going to get
belligerent. I would rather finish this conversation before we get to that point. You are hot for Sloane. Now you have to determine if it is real, or if it is more the vestige of your competition with Wyatt.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Randall responded a bit too forcefully.
“We can skirt this topic all you like, but the truth is that you compete with Wyatt over everything. For whatever reason, you have always wanted what Wyatt has, from his position on the hockey team, to his grades in school, to the class presidency. Frankly, you have been a bit of a sore loser. You pawed all of the women he dated.”
“Not so, Alex. I know to keep my hands off another man’s girl, especially Wyatt’s. I would never poach on any of you guys.”
“Sober you wouldn’t. So now, we come back to Sloane. She is just about the only woman you couldn’t quite touch. Until her father’s fall from grace knocked the lovely ice-queen off her pedestal.”
“You think I just want her cause she was Wyatt’s?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think, Randall. What matters is what you think.”
“Just between us, Alex,” Randall hesitated, taking a big gulp of beer before continuing, “I think I might be in love with her.”
“Are you shitting me? What on earth is there to fall in love with? This is Sloane Huyler you are talking about. She is cold, calculating and manipulative. She is a prima donna and a 'class A' bitch. Ask Wyatt.”
“True, she is absolutely all of those things, but she is stunningly beautiful, smart as a whip and when she gets bitchy she also gets pretty damn clever. I think I might be the man to stay one step ahead of her. When she is off-balance, I swear, she is adorable – frustrated, confused and totally adorable. I want to be the one to keep her off-balance, Alex.”
Beholden (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 2) Page 12