Scorpio Series Boxed Set

by Monique Domovitch

  Andrew threw the stock report on his desk. “Take a look at that.”

  Alex read the paper and blanched. He looked up. “What do you think that means?” he asked, already guessing the answer. His stomach was in a knot.

  “It can only mean one thing. Somebody is trying to sandbag us.”

  “Who?”

  “I have no idea,” replied Andrew.

  For a moment both men were silent. “Call a board meeting immediately,” ordered Alex. “We’d better look into this right now.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the board of directors was assembled in the conference room. Alex spoke with icy calm. “I think we might be in for a rough ride. Somebody has been buying up large chunks of Power Properties stock and it looks like the first step toward a hostile takeover bid.”

  “Who do you think it could be?” asked Gerald.

  “It could be anyone. There’s no way of knowing until we complete the research.”

  “If they are serious, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did much of the buying in the name of dummy corporations. I doubt the research will tell us anything,” continued Gerald Masson calmly. “I only wish we hadn’t stretched ourselves so thin with the purchase of Atlantic Airlines. Now we don’t have the available cash to start buying more shares ourselves.”

  Alex felt his stomach tighten up again. “What we have to do is make sure that all our investors hold on to their stock. Meanwhile—”

  “Alex,” Gerald insisted. “We don’t have the capital to buy back any large blocks of our stock, if that’s what you’re thinking. Don’t forget, we all had to dilute our shares considerably when we went public.”

  “I know you were planning to leave in a few weeks, but whatever you do, don’t dump your stock now, Gerald. That would kill us.”

  “How much stock does the bastard already have?” asked Natalia from across the table.

  Andrew waited for Alex to answer. When he didn’t, Andrew spoke for him. “We estimate that he holds approximately twenty percent of the stock. And that is a conservative estimate. He could have been buying under a few other company names.”

  “Oh my God, what are we going to do?” asked Natalia.

  Alex thought for a moment. Then he spoke. “Whoever this is, he hasn’t made himself known yet, and the legal minimum for the offering period is twenty business days. That means that even if he made his offer tomorrow, we have over three weeks to prepare. Meanwhile, I suggest we go on the biggest publicity blitz we’ve ever had. We are Power Properties,” he said. “Not only the single most prestigious company in the country, but also the fastest-growing.”

  He paused and thought quickly. “Natalia, I want you to update the list of shareholders. I think we should have a special evening for them, remind them of everything we have accomplished, and give them a glimpse of what we’re planning for the future. With any luck, we’ll be able to prevent them from selling out. As far as I know, twenty percent of a company is not enough for a takeover. We and our stockholders will still hold eighty.”

  Four pairs of eyes stared back at him unconvinced. The odds of preventing a well-planned and well-financed hostile takeover were only one in five.

  “We’ll have to move fast,” said Natalia, breaking the silence. She was already heaving herself out of her chair. “I’ll book the ballroom of the Pierre for the first available date.”

  “I’ll help you get the updated version of the shareholder lists,” said Andrew as he rose from his chair.

  “Richard, I want you to look into preparing our strategy. We have a maze of anti-takeover defenses woven into Power Properties Holding’s bylaws.”

  “I’ll pull our corporate charter,” said Richard as he hurried out.

  Gerald Masson sat quietly. This whole takeover business was ruining his plans. Now he had no choice but to sit tight for another few months. “Isn’t it interesting,” he said as soon as he and Alex were alone, “how the timing of this takeover was so well planned?”

  Alex stopped and looked at Gerald piercingly. “Do you really think the timing was planned?”

  “Do you really think it was a fluke?” replied Gerald. “Now, of all times, they decide to strike—when I’m scheduled to leave the company and when we’ve just made the single largest purchase in the history of the company. Power Properties has never been so cash poor.”

  “Only the board of directors had access to that information,” said Alex softly.

  Gerald cocked his finger at Alex. “Bingo! You just read my mind,” he said.

  * * *

  Chapter 25

  The weeks flew by in a flurry of preparations and strategy meetings, and suddenly it was the day of the shareholder gala. Now that there was no more time, no more plans to put into effect, Alex felt overwhelmed with fatigue. He and his board of directors had worked harder than ever, reassuring stockholders, squelching rumors everywhere, and during all that time, trying to find out who was behind the takeover bid. Alex glanced at his watch. Four o’clock. It was time to go home and get ready.

  Just as he was leaving, Natalia barged in. “What is it, Natalia?” he asked wearily.

  Natalia crossed the room without a word and dropped into the chair across from his desk. “The switchboard just lit up like the fourth of July. He’s just made his bid.”

  Alex sat back down. “Who is it?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  Natalia shook her mass of graying blonde hair. “I don’t get it. I’ve never heard of the man. It’s someone by the name of William Brandon. Have you ever heard of him?”

  Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “William Brandon!”

  “He’s offering forty-two dollars per share.”

  Alex leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “William Brandon. He must be a hundred years old by now. What the hell does he want with me?”

  “This William Brandon, is he someone you stepped on?”

  For a moment his chest felt unbearably tight. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain passed. “Stepped on?” he said.

  “Alex, you’ve built yourself a fortune, an empire. You stepped on a lot of toes and made a lot of enemies along the way. This is personal, isn’t it?”

  “How much time have we got before we need to show up at the Pierre?” asked Alex, disregarding Natalia’s question.

  “Five, maybe six hours.” Still Natalia waited for a moment. Then she sighed and struggled out of her chair. “I guess we’d better get to work. If a dozen shareholders got the offer, you can be sure they all did.” Alex cringed.

  Natalia must have noticed the look of pain on his face. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine—just an upset stomach. Is everybody still here?”

  Natalia nodded.

  “Call an emergency meeting,” continued Alex. “We’d better take another look at our strategy for tonight.”

  * * *

  Anne Turner was suspicious. She was also extremely nervous. For nearly three weeks she had been leaving message after message for Richard and still he did not call back.

  What is he up to? If he is trying to cut me out of this deal… She slammed down the receiver one more time and stood beside the phone, tapping her long red fingernails on the table.

  “Damn him,” she muttered to the mirror in the front hall as she grabbed her purse and stormed out.

  She taxied over to his apartment in a huff and banged on his door. “There you are,” she screeched when he finally opened the door. She was about to launch into a litany of abusive language when she realized that Richard was wearing his tuxedo. “Where. The hell. Are you going all dressed up like a penguin?”

  “Nice to see you, too, Mother,” replied Richard as he walked back into his apartment, leaving the door open. Anne strode in behind him.

  “What the hell is going on? And don’t bother telling me that I’m imagining things. For weeks now, I’ve known that something has been going on at Power Properties, but you won’t tell me anything about it. And don’t imagine that you�
�re leaving here until you do.”

  “In that case, make yourself at home. You might be here for awhile.”

  Anne followed Richard to the bedroom as he knotted his bow tie. “Listen here, you dumb jerk. I’m your mother. Don’t start acting up with me.”

  Richard spun around and glared at her. “The only reason I haven’t kept you up on what’s been happening is that it is very important that everything remain confidential right now. The success of everything I’ve worked for depends on it.”

  Anne’s eyebrows shot up. “So something is going on. What is it?” She waited expectantly. “Hey, I’m in this, too, you know. I’ve been very patient, letting everything go your way.”

  Richard finished knotting his tie and for the first time he noticed the expensive new clothes his mother was wearing. “I see you’ve been shopping. Where did you get the money?”

  Anne looked guilty for a moment. “I got myself a few credit cards.” She shrugged. “Don’t try to change the subject. What’s going on?”

  Richard turned away. “We have a problem. This afternoon, Alex found out that someone by the name of William Brandon is trying to take over Power Properties. Tonight, Alex is going to give a speech to all of the shareholders in hopes of keeping their vote.”

  Anne felt the blood drain from her face. “I think you’d better tell me all about it.”

  When Richard finished telling her the story, Anne was stunned.

  “Mom, are you all right?”

  Anne’s calm was almost eerie. “Yeah! Sure! Don’t worry about me,” she answered with a shrug. She got up from the couch and picked up her designer handbag. “I think I’ll go home now.”

  “You do that,” replied Richard as he escorted her to the door. “I’ll let you know what happens as soon as I find out myself.”

  Half an hour later, Anne let herself into her apartment, headed straight for the liquor cabinet, and poured herself a double scotch.

  “I can’t let William Brandon ruin everything,” she mumbled to herself. “I’ve waited too long for this and I refuse to let anyone stand in my way.” She nursed her drink for awhile as her mind spun furiously.

  * * *

  That evening when Alex walked into the ballroom of the Pierre Hotel, resplendent in his tuxedo, he appeared confident. He had chewed on half a dozen Rolaids and felt slightly better. He plastered a friendly smile on his face and walked through the tables with Brigitte on his arm. The crowd of shareholders was already pleasantly mellowed by endless glasses of champagne, and the noise was that of a successful party in full swing. Music played softly in the background while waiters rushed about. Guests spoke in low drones and the air of pleasant company mingled with the brilliant lights and rich smells of the buffet.

  Alex stopped for a moment and looked around. “This is it, sweetheart,” he said to Brigitte, and took her by the elbow as he escorted her to the head table.

  Tonight, he thought, as he helped his wife into her chair and looked around at his Vice-Presidents, I am giving the best performance of my life. The performance had nothing to do with the speech he was about to give. One of you has been leaking information to my enemy.

  “Are you ready for your speech, Alex?” asked Richard as he leaned over.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Alex took a deep breath and turned toward the dais. “Richard, do me a favor. Get me a scotch. I have a feeling I’ll need it when I come back.”

  Alex finished his speech and the applause came thunderously. He stood on the podium while the familiar velvety voice of Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York filled the room. On the screen behind him flashed publicity pictures of Power Properties real estate projects. He looked out into the room and recognized some of the faces. There was Andrew, standing near the front talking to the mayor. Behind him was Brigitte, chatting with a woman he thought he recognized. A moment later, he spotted Richard and Natalia in a lively discussion with the host of a television morning show.

  A feeling of dizziness swept over him. He grabbed the edge of the lectern to steady himself. The anxiety came rushing back and with it, the same painful tightness in his chest that he had felt earlier.

  Shit, the handful of Rolaids I took earlier should have done the job. He stepped off and shouldered his way through the glittering crowd.

  "Great speech Alex," someone shouted in his ear and clapped him on the back.

  He smiled and nodded, grateful that nobody could guess how awful he felt. Under his tuxedo jacket, his shirt was soaked. He restrained the almost overwhelming urge to loosen his bowtie and kept his confident smile plastered on. The comments he heard along the way to his table were positive.

  "He’s made the company what it is, why would I…?” someone said close by.

  "Whoever that Brandon guy is, he…” The rest of the sentence disappeared in the noise.

  Back at the head table, Richard congratulated him. "Great speech, Alex.” He offered Alex a glass. “Here, I got you that scotch you asked for."

  Alex downed the drink in one quick shot.

  "Good stuff," Alex said, setting the glass down. "At the price the Pierre is charging me for this ballroom, I guess the least I can expect is a good glass of scotch." He looked around and some of his nervousness dissipated.

  The room looked stunning. Three large glittering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their Austrian crystal lit like millions of candles. Fresh flower arrangements decorated the center of each table, and everywhere, white-gloved waiters rushed about pouring endless glasses of champagne. Even the Plaza's ballroom, with the millions Trump had pumped into the place, could not rival the Pierre's.

  "For a while there, I thought you’d forgotten what you wanted to say," said Richard.

  "To tell you the truth, I don’t know how the hell I pulled it off. I’m still not sure what I said up there," answered Alex, his smile still in place. He leaned over to Brigitte, and kissed her on the mouth.

  "Congratulations, Alex," she said. Alex, always the showman, pulled her up to her feet and into his arms for a passionate embrace. A few people from nearby tables cheered.

  He released her just as Natalia joined them.

  “Hey, Alex, you did a good job up there. I think it’s in the can,” she said, heaving her weight onto one of the fragile chairs. Luckily it held.

  Alex sat and leaned in close to her. The aging movie star was the only member of his board he trusted completely. She was, after all, the only one who had no reason to hate him.

  “Who do you think is behind this?” he asked.

  Natalia returned his gaze with surprise. “I don’t understand what you mean. We know who’s behind this, Alex. It’s William Brandon, who else?”

  Alex shook his head vehemently. “No. I’ve thought about it and there are just too many coincidences. The timing for one thing.” He leaned in closer. “I think it’s one of us.”

  Natalia scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Alex chose not to argue. He nodded instead. “You’re probably right.” He could not afford to let his emotions show.

  Whoever you are, you bastard, I'll find out and I'll make you pay. Although he had his suspicions, he skimmed over the group warily.

  Alex turned back to Brigitte. She had been his wife for over a quarter of a century, almost half his life. Without her unwavering love and devotion during all those years, he would have never had the energy to build Power Properties. She looked up at him, and he suddenly realized how beautiful she still was.

  A beautiful stranger. Sadness swept over him. What is wrong with me? he wondered, unused to feeling emotional. He tried to push away the thought that nagged in the back of his mind. Maybe losing Power would not be such a bad thing. I could spend some time with Brigitte. Get to know her again. Would she even want to?

  He tried to remember the last time they had made love, but couldn't. It had been way too long. I'm like king Midas, he thought. I built a fortune, but lost all the people I loved most.

  Age was catching up with
him. He had alienated too many people during his life, some of them people he truly cared for. Now Brandon was trying to steal Power from him. It's too late. I will never be able to recapture what was. Or can I?

  Brigitte smiled at him and he saw only indifference in her eyes. His heart lurched. A wave of exhaustion hit him and suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but there.

  "Let's get out of here," he yelled to Brigitte above the racket. She nodded and Richard Conrad jumped up to follow them. Alex said a quick goodbye to the others and opened the way to the entrance of the ballroom. He went down the curving stairs of the rotunda with Brigitte, followed closely by Richard.

  Alex put his arm around her and hurried her on.

  "Why are we leaving so soon?" asked Brigitte nervously "I would have thought you'd want to stay and speak with a few of the shareholders."

  "I have a better idea" replied Alex.

  "There's a lot riding on this, Alex. I don't know if it's such a good idea to leave now. We could lose a fortune," said Richard.

  "Nobody knows that better than I do, Richard. You don't have to tell me how to run my business," Alex shot back gruffly. "I built this company. Nobody wants to keep it more than me."

  From above, the last words of Sinatra's song carried out to them—something about making a brand new life.

  They entered the lobby. A doorman noticed them and rushed over. "Can I get your car, Mister Ivanov?" he asked. Alex handed him the parking stub. The man turned and rushed out.