ShelfLife

by Barrie Seppings

  The door closed behind him and the boardroom was silent once again. Now the walls seemed much closer, the door much further away. Trent cradled the envelope in his lap for a while but didn’t open it, fearing it might trigger some sort of automatic extradition. Or firing squad.

  ‘Mr Carlisle?’ it was Headset Boy again.

  ‘What now?’ Trent said without looking up.

  A deep clearing of the throat. ‘Sorry I’m late, old chap. Mind if I step in for a quick chat?’ Charles lingered in the doorway like a vampire angling for a formal invitation.

  Trent sat up with a start, fumbling with the unopened document.

  ‘Pressing matters?’ Charles asked, gesturing to the envelope.

  Trent wanted Charles to iron out this morning’s wrinkle with the investors before tackling the issue of a litigious parent.

  ‘Minor issue with the family firm. Where were you this morning?’ Trent reached for the stack of papers left on the table. ‘I could have done with a bit of Archer-Ellis muscle to keep our investor friends in check. They got a bit snotty. They appear to have forgotten who’s actually running this company.’

  Charles walked to the far end of the table but made no move to be seated. ‘Yes, look, about that …’

  Trent started leafing through the pages. ‘They were a little rude – but if you get them to calm down, I promise I’m not going to hold a grudge. After all, it’s just business,’ said Trent, the pace of his page-leafing subsiding as he took in more of the document. ‘They’re kind of over-reacting with these demands, aren’t they?’

  ‘They’re not demands, old chap, they’re instructions,’ said Charles. ‘And it is expected you will follow them.’

  ‘They’re asking me to sign over almost my entire stake in the company,’ Trent slapped the pages with the back of his hand. ‘Why do they think I would do that?’

  ‘Because I told them you would,’ said Charles.

  Trent stopped reading and looked up, hoping to find Charles’ familiar sly grin, the one that indicated an utterly brilliant and completely unexpected strategy was about to unfurl. There was no grin.

  ‘You had a great idea, sunshine, but the ideas market is in surplus. Execution is the only thing in demand and yours has been flawed from the get-go,’ Charles shot his arms out and adjusted his cufflinks. ‘I told you to get some oversight on board, demonstrate you were serious about addressing the investors’ concerns. The grown-ups will take it from here.’

  Was Charles role-playing here? Practising a speech for another meeting? Trent had seen Charles pursue the hard line before, but to find himself on the receiving end was disconcerting.

  ‘I know I wasn’t keen about getting someone senior in to handle operations when we talked about it the first time, but now with the scale we’re achieving, it’s starting to make a lot more sense.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Carlisle, give yourself an uppercut.’ Charles gripped the back of the chair with both hands. ‘I told you to put a psychologist on retainer to prevent these high-risk life rentals from sneaking through and you ignored my advice.’

  ‘You told me not spend a cent on those guys, that we didn’t need them.’

  ‘If you’d listened, you would have heard me tell you that you couldn’t afford them. If you’d spent less time making promises and more time delivering results, you would’ve had the revenue to cover your basic opex requirements.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this,’ said Trent.

  ‘And I can’t believe how quickly you’ve become the handbrake on this business, Trent. I’m here to take back the wheel.’

  Trent sank back into his chair, gripping the arms for support.

  ‘Did you even listen to what the investors were saying to you this morning? You kids are giving people all sorts of ideas, telling them that they can be anything. This country can’t handle that sort of social instability,’ Charles pointed his finger at Trent. ‘Not everybody gets everything they want. Including you.’

  Trent had admired Charles’ chameleon-like ability to fit any situation, which he’d always done with a wink and a nod. This transformation was complete and unnerving.

  ‘The offer you’ve just been handed is a very good one, Trent. You walk away and get one point one mil in cash, local currency, which is nothing to sneeze at. Plus, you keep a small parcel of shares, almost a half a per cent, which is a nice souvenir for you. It’s also an insurance policy for us, in case you want to use your last fifteen minutes of startup fame to say something stupid in public.’

  Trent’s throat constricted. This seemed like the part where he was getting kicked out of his own company.

  ‘Don’t look so glum, Carlisle. Most founders get shown the exit long before this,’ Charles stepped closer and lowered his voice. ‘You’ve actually hung in reasonably well, for a novice.’

  Trent had admired Charles for his ruthlessness, had even sought to emulate it on occasion, so it was a shock to realise Charles had always regarded him as disposable. It embarrassed him that he hadn’t seen it until now.

  ‘Not signing.’

  ‘What’s that, old chap? Didn’t catch that one,’ said Charles.

  ‘I said I’m not signing,’ Trent placed the documents on the boardroom table. ‘I’m not giving up my own company.’

  ‘I’ve got a lab test says you will,’ Charles took a small screwtop jar from his suit pocket and placed it on the document stack. ‘Try not to miss, eh?’

  Trent looked up, open-mouthed.

  ‘You think you were invited to all those parties for your sparkling personality?’ Charles snarled. ‘I recommend you read the section of your Director’s agreement that pertains to drug-testing.’

  ‘Drug testing?’

  ‘Doesn’t anyone from your generation do their fucking homework?’ Charles straightened his back and folded his arms across his chest. ‘You kids think you’re so smart when you discover a shortcut, then you complain when it takes you right back to where you started. So have a little think and a good, long read of your contract this time. It’s your only way out.’

  Trent clenched his fists under the table. ‘What happens to Gavin and Shanti?’

  ‘I told you to keep a closer watch on those two. Letting your hipster go missing was a bad idea,’ Charles walked towards the main door. ‘And as for your little coder friend, you might want to ask her how a bunch of rich kids from São Paulo with no technical experience launched an exact copy of our site in just a few weeks. I’m told even the code is identical.’

  Trent glared at Charles, his urge to choke the older man stayed by the realisation Charles was expecting it. An assault charge would be an even cleaner way to remove him from the company.

  ‘You can either sign the fucking papers, or piss in this jar and hope the lab somehow screws up the results.’ Charles pushed open the double doors of the boardroom. ‘I know which one I’d rather do.’

  Trent sat and stared at the pile of documents from the investors, the envelope from his mother and the sample jar from Charles.

  ‘Fuck me,’ he said, running both hands through his hair. He was at zero from three. He wondered if the boardroom was jinxed. The explanation appealed to his ‘why me?’ gene.

  He’d known his mother was angry, pretty much since birth, and the investors always seemed hard to please, but he couldn’t understand why Charles had turned on him. Should he call a lawyer? Get the documents looked over, their weaknesses exposed? Maybe he could use Charles’ own gambit to oust him from the company, regain a majority stake and put the investors back in their box. Trent reached for the document, knocking over the empty sample jar. It spun lazily on the glossy black table.

  ‘Fuck,’ he said to himself, again, in the empty room.

  Initially, he’d been hesitant to indulge, mindful of the signs and posters and leaflets and forms that had spelled out Singapore’s intolerance of all recreational substances except booze. But soon it seemed like a rule that only applied to other people. Sure
, if you weren’t connected, you’d be a fool to tempt the laws of the state, but Charles had connected Trent to ‘the right people’ from the moment he landed.

  And there it was. Charles’ connections. Charles’ investors. Charles’ party friends. And now, Charles’ sample jar.

  ‘Fuck, I’m such an idiot,’ he said, again to no-one.

  ‘Sometimes.’ Ping had slipped in through the gap between the double doors, sat next to Trent and took his hands. ‘But not all of the time.’

  Trent managed a weak smile as he slumped back in his chair. His hands slid from hers.

  ‘What is it? You look so worried.’

  His face had betrayed him. ‘Oh, a tough meeting with the investors.’

  ‘For the whole morning?’

  Trent checked his watch. ‘It felt longer, to be honest. But hey, what’s happening with you? I haven’t seen you in a week.’

  ‘It’s been almost two. I thought you were in Taipei for a few more days, whipping up more press coverage for yourself?’

  ‘For ShelfLife. Every time I get on stage, it’s for the company,’ he countered. ‘But we had a thing in Syria that was looking serious for us, so Charles called me back.’

  ‘It’s looking serious for the French journalist,’ she shot back.

  ‘Oh god, look, I’m sorry. That sounded stupid,’ Trent offered.

  ‘Gavin’s the stupid one. What did he think would happen in a civil war?’

  ‘How did you know Gavin was involved?’ Trent’s eyes narrowed. What if Ping was part of Charles’ plan to infiltrate the company? Is that why she had been spending more time with him over the last month or so?

  ‘Shanti asked me to help track him down. One of the new hires stumbled across a whole stash of secret listings,’ she took Trent’s hands again. ‘We found the life Gavin had rented, completely off the books. When the news broke about the kidnapped journalist, we tracked him down and got him out, just in case he was mixed up in it.’

  ‘But that guy’s an actual war photographer. Gavin is just some designer from Melbourne who likes taking photos. I mean, why did he even go over there?’

  ‘Is it because you’re so focused on your work,’ Ping brushed Trent’s fringe from his eyes, ‘or are you really that oblivious to the human condition?’

  Trent shook his head, unable to follow the logic.

  ‘Can’t you see it, Trent? Gavin was trying to get her attention.’

  ‘Get her attention? But they work together. We all live in the same apartment block. Couldn’t he just talk to her?’

  ‘Oh boy, you’re in your own little world right now, aren’t you?’

  Trent exhaled and realised he most definitely was: a family out to sue him, a mentor out to frame him and business partners trying to desert him. At this point, he couldn’t decide if Ping was his soul-mate or part of Charles’ set-up. He’d have to make a choice fairly quickly.

  ‘I came to tell you I’m thinking of leaving,’ said Ping before Trent could make the mental coin toss. She took some papers from her satchel and laid them out on the table. ‘I wanted your opinion on a couple of things first. Charles is pushing me to take another round of funding from a panel of investors he has lined up.’

  Trent sucked in his breath. It was bad enough he might be losing her, the fact that it was Charles stealing her away pushed it into the realm of horrible. Was this another part of Charles’ plan?

  ‘Don’t worry, I don’t like it either,’ Ping quickly leafed through the document. ‘Their valuation is based on us becoming a white-label courier drone service, aimed mainly at marketers.’

  ‘Like that thing with the soda on the building site?’

  ‘So limited, right? Plus, I can’t stand Charles because he’s a stupid inbred sack of meat.’ She blew a stray hair from her face. ‘I know he’s your mentor but don’t expect me say nice things about him.’

  Trent leaned over and kissed Ping.

  ‘That was a strange response,’ she said. ‘I thought we weren’t supposed to kiss in the office. Or are you changing the rules again without telling me?’

  ‘It’s been a strange day. I think lots of rules are changing right now,’ he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled gamely. ‘What’s the other interesting development? Who else wants to take you away?’

  ‘Wow, possessive too,’ she smiled as she shuffled the papers. ‘Next thing you’ll be wanting to tell me your life story and introduce me to your parents.’

  ‘Trust me, you don’t want anything to do with my parents,’ Trent shook his head. ‘What’s this other thing?’

  ‘Another offer, looks more promising. It’s a fund that invests in technology to support medical industries in developing countries. The kind of partner I’ve been looking for.’

  ‘That’s great news,’ Trent lied. ‘Where are they based?’

  ‘The offer is from their Hong Kong office. They’ve just opened there, but their HQ is in New York, so I figured you might know them. Didn’t you tell me you worked in med tech back home?’

  Trent scanned the pages, pretending to take in the detail, but froze when he flipped back to the cover. The funding proposal was from Biomia Ventures, the innovation arm of Mediclinical.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ he said, shaking his head and letting the document fall to the table.

  ‘I know,’ said Ping. ‘It seems like a low offer but I’m going to accept if they’re legitimate.’

  ‘Oh they’re legitimate, all right,’ said Trent. ‘They’re actually kind of a big deal.’

  ‘So you have heard of them?’ her eyes narrowed.

  ‘You could say that,’ he smiled weakly, gripping the envelope in his lap. ‘But you should move fast if you’re going to do it. They get their R & D funding from a big corporation that’s, well, entering a period of instability. Let’s leave it at that.’

  ‘How can I leave it at that, Trent? Clearly you know these people, why wouldn’t you tell me about them?’

  ‘Because these people are connected to my parents.’

  ‘Oh, so the no-talking-about-family rule is still in effect, is it?’

  ‘Ping, I’m trying to do something without my parents’ involvement, so I prefer not to talk about them. I know family means more to you than it does for me but I’m not trying to hide anything. I’m just doing things my own way. Like you leaving the incubator, getting your own investors.’

  ‘Investors you have information on, but won’t share with me,’ Ping slapped the papers. ‘If you won’t tell me as your kinda-sorta-maybe girlfriend, then at tell me as a fellow entrepreneur. C’mon, founder to founder.’

  Trent exhaled and looked her in the eye. If he couldn’t bring himself to tell her he had started think of her as his girlfriend, he could at least tell her who she was getting into bed with financially.

  ‘It’s my dad.’

  ‘Your dad works for Bioma?’

  ‘He’s on the board. He didn’t write the offer, but he would have approved it. They’d be a good partner for Rotronica.’

  ‘The father you won’t tell me anything about would make a great investor in my company?’

  ‘Dad’s okay. My mother’s the problem. My dad is just, y’know, married to her. So they come as a set. Which is why I’ve been trying to have as little to do with them as possible. But if you like this deal, then do it. Bioma is a good firm and they have connections everywhere.’

  ‘Not that I need your blessing,’ Ping smiled.

  ‘You don’t need anyone’s blessing.’

  ‘But I want you to understand that it means moving the project out into the field,’ she took his wrists. He found her intensity unnerving at times. ‘This is my chance to take Rotronica into the real world. See if we can help change people’s lives. So maybe we should stop this while it’s still just a casual thing.’

  ‘Casual? It’s not completely casual, is it?’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ She didn’t sound angry.

  A knock sounded at the boardroo
m door. Ping let go of Trent’s wrists, but he continued to cling.

  ‘I don’t want to see anyone else,’ he said.

  ‘Maybe they have the boardroom booked. You’ve had it for hours.’

  ‘No. I mean you. I only want to see you. I am only seeing you. I work, I travel, I do meetings, I do interviews and I see you. That’s it. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I want you to…’ Trent trailed off, realising he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

  ‘You’re not very good at this, are you?’ said Ping.

  Trent shook his head. ‘There’s a lot of things I thought I was good at, turns out I’m not.’

  Ping pulled Trent towards her and kissed him. He pulled back for a moment and searched her face. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just…’

  ‘It’s OK. I’ve just not seen you look like you need anyone before,’ she slipped a wrist free and snaked her hand around the back of his neck, stroking it. ‘It’s nice. You should try it more often.’

  A knock on the conference door again, more forceful this time.

  ‘I don’t think I can handle any more surprises today,’ Trent blew a lungful of apprehension out through a nervous laugh. ‘If it’s Charles again, can you make sure I don’t stab the fat fucker in the face? Apparently Singapore has laws against that.’

  She smiled at Trent and called to the door. ‘Come in.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you two were together,’ Shanti stopped in the doorway. ‘I mean, I didn’t know you were together in here. Wait. Are you two together?’

  ‘Funny, that’s just what I was asking him,’ said Ping, removing her hand from Trent’s neck. ‘I’m not sure he knows either.’

  ‘Gavin’s flight is landing soon. I don’t know what state he’s going to be in, so I sent a car to collect him. I’m going to wait for him at the apartments, see if he’s okay.’

  ‘Now I’m the one who’s interrupting. I’ll be around if you need me,’ said Ping, as she collected up her investment proposals, giving Trent a look as she left.

  ‘Is Ping angry at you?’ said Shanti, taking a seat.