by John Oakes
Tex took two big steps out in front of them, and turned to face them again holding his arms out wide. "And this here is the battlefield of my choosing."
"So, you want to have a camp for Japanese Business men...that's filled with the Tiny Tacklers?" Cody had thought he understood, but when it came out of his mouth, it didn't sound right.
But Big Tex turned, slammed his meat paws together and hooted. "That's more or less the idea! It's gonna take a bit of work, oughta make it themed somehow. Gotta prep food, entertainment..."
"So, where do I come in?"
"Well, right here partner!" Big Tex swept arms in all directions. "It's your show!"
"I thought you wanted the battlefield."
"Well I do. But..." Big Tex shook his head. "See it's like this," he explained. "I don't have a budget for building and maintaining a midget-themed resort, nor do I have a stable of talented tiny folks. More importantly, I don't have the energy or man power for it, which brings us back to you."
"So, you want me to build it?"
"There you go." Tex worked his hands together. "And then one hand washes the other."
Big Tex hadn't been kidding about getting them a meeting that day with the owner of the property. Fridays were big days at the mall, so Cody hadn't bothered to bring Jason along to meet Tex only forty-five minutes west of Houston. Ricky was a businessman, true, and clearly a successful one, but Cody needed one of the more traditional variety. So he called Jason and asked him if he could get his Lexus-driving ass to Houston before their 5pm meeting. He called Winton too, but couldn't get ahold of him.
Jason met them at a bar on the outskirts of Houston. Ricky took the Trans-am to go run an errand of his own. Cody hopped in with Jason, and they dashed through rush hour traffic, trying to make the most important meeting of their lives. Cody wasn't dressed appropriately, as usual, but Jason had brought him a shirt. And thankfully it was winter, so at least Cody was wearing pants.
Cody hated Houston. It stank, and the traffic was terrible, but it was also the sort of city where you could find a possible investor for...whatever this was. Jason navigated them to the address Tex had given, while Cody was buttoning his shirt a second time after realizing he had it buttoned wrong the first time. They pulled up in front of a massive glass building at 4:59 pm. They hopped out and practically ran to the front doors.
"Cody?"
Cody looked back at Jason who was stopped, staring up at the beautiful, curved glass office building that reflected the weak, evening sun. Then he looked at Cody and made a dramatic, quizzical gesture.
"What's the hold-up?" Cody asked impatiently, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the entrance.
Jason, with bewilderment on his face, pointed to the top of the building.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Devil You Know
Cody looked up and saw bright blue letters "LMO" next to a small rock hammer logo. It was unmistakable.
Cody let out a slow, toe-curling string of foul curses.
They were running into the international headquarters of Latour Mining and Oil. Cody had been to the groundbreaking when he was 12, but had only seen the building two other times, both in his teens.
The concave structure glistened in the sun like an azure gem. It wasn't supposed to be that beautiful. In Cody's nightmares it more resembled Sauron's tower above Mount Doom.
Tex hooted from the entrance and held the door for them. Cody ambled into the building, mouth hung open.
"Glad you made it. Hell boy, you look like you seen Bin Laden's ghost!"
Cody looked his stricken face up at Tex's. "The man we're about to meet with. Is his name Latour?"
"Latour? You mean the head honcho, Latour?"
Cody's eyes widened a bit.
"Heavens no!" Tex said with a chuckle.
Cody almost fell to the floor with relief that his father was not the investor they had come to speak with.
"There's the gentleman now," Tex said, pointing to a row of elevators. Out stepped a man in a dark charcoal suit, the color of which matched his hair and eyes. He strode over to the three of them and shook Tex's hand warmly. Then he extended his hand to Cody with a kind smile.
Cody shook it, speechless.
"Hello Mr. Latour. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."
Astounded by the man's genuine affability more than anything, Cody paused a moment before responding.
"Hello, Tagg."
Tagg let his smiling eyes linger on Cody's for a fraction of a second before quickly shaking Jason's hand to complete the formality.
"You two know each other?" Tex asked
"Of course we do! Tex you're looking at Cody Latour." He emphasized the last name. "As in Latour Mining and Oil."
Tex looked perplexed. "Latour? I thought your name was Lafleur!"
Tex barked a laugh that shook the floor beneath them. He clapped Cody on the shoulder. "Latour! No wonder you were shocked to be showing up here!"
At the diner franchise across the street, the waitress took their orders. Cody ordered food, knowing he wouldn't be able to eat a bite of it.
Jason spoke up a little uneasily. "We're very happy to be able to meet with you. We only found out about this opportunity today, and here we are already! A good omen, I'd say."
Jason shot a wink in Cody's direction. It had probably been meant to comfort Cody, but was woefully inadequate to the task. Nothing about this felt right.
"I too found this coincidence remarkable," Tagg said with earnest expression.
"How do you know each other?" Cody asked toward Tex and Tagg, trying not to vomit in his mouth.
"Corporate softball league," Tex said. "But it's more of a swig-and-swing kind of affair." Tex tipped back an imaginary bottle.
"Ah, don't be so modest." Tagg said to Tex. He patted him on the shoulder and turned to Cody. "Tex here played farm team ball, and he can still knock the leather off it."
"Teehee. Well, those were the days," Tex said with a smile down at the table.
"Tex put the word out that he was looking for a property suitable for repurposing. And I figured I had just the thing for him."
Cody's eyes narrowed. He glanced at Jason, but he was so pleased to be a part of a real life business meeting that he clearly wasn't seeing the same disconcerting picture Cody was.
"In 2007, some friends and I started a private equity firm, of which I am COO."
"Chief Operating Officer," Jason said, nodding at Cody.
"Our first project was an ambitious one," Tagg continued, "to begin developing a senior living resort. The idea was to capture the baby boomer market. We thought it was a slam dunk."
"We were all young and stupid once." Tex jabbed an elbow into Tagg's arm.
Tagg chuckled politely and continued, "The baby boomers were going to start retiring, especially those with money to spend. We felt the time was right to jump on these people. We did research that supported our idea that people want to retire out of the city in deluxe accommodation, but don't always want to move very far from family and friends to do it."
"Home away from home," Jason chimed in.
"We planned well. What we didn't plan for was the housing bubble."
"Oh man," Cody said in sudden realization. "That sucks."
"Yes, indeed, it sucks very much," Tagg said, without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Fortunately we had a fixed rate on our land and, well, I'll save you the gory details. But we had to stop construction. And since we had already started building up the land, we really didn't want to give it back to the bank."
"They caught you with your pants down," Jason said, shaking his head. Then he took his plate from the waitress.
"Our pants were down, but we decided to let them stay down. The best course for us was to simply wait out the storm and spend the minimum on maintenance and tax."
"So, it's all been just sitting there? Half done?" Cody asked.
"It's nowhere near half done." Tagg said. "And thankfully so. We ha
d barely started sinking funds into the planned construction."
For a moment, Cody marveled at the oddity of having a conversation with Tagg, a sober one at least. It was like he was an entirely different person wearing a Tagg mask.
"We've been hoping that the economy would improve. However, this hasn't happened. Consumer confidence is still very low, and on top of that, the most conservative consumers are retirees on a fixed income. Even if it's a large income, they tend to shelter it more carefully."
"So you are waiting until the old people stop being scared to spend their money?" Cody asked.
"We were waiting, but with no light at the end of the tunnel, we've started to search for creative repurposing."
"What do you propose?" Jason asked.
"Well, Tex filled you in on the broad strokes, didn't he?"
Cody and Jason nodded. "Cody filled me in," Jason said.
"But hold on. Did you miss the controversy we stirred up?" Cody asked.
"Ah, the reporter, Melissa St. James," Tagg said.
"Yeah, her," Cody said, dejected.
"She said some terrible things," Tagg said.
Jason came to Cody's defense. "But it was all lies and such."
"But who honestly gives a shit?" Tagg leaned his head back in disregard. "She just wanted a story. You think people really care about what she said?"
"BSU cared. They cancelled us from the Alamo Bowl."
"I didn't see it," Tex said. "But sounds like this reporter hurt you in public. That happens in business." Tex's face was conciliatory. He emphatically motioned both of his hands off and under the table. "You just need to do your business more in private. Take it from a defense contractor and an oil executive. If you think you have critics, then..." Tex shook his head and chuckled.
"Okay," Cody said feebly. "So, how does it all fit together?"
"There are three options for how the deal could then proceed," Tagg said. "Understand first, that our primary goal is eliminating the burden this property carries and recouping some costs if possible in the short term. We don't see it as a business we care to run on a day-to-day basis."
Cody looked to Jason, who nodded back at him.
"This is problematic because if you're a lease tenant, you don't want to make the improvements on land you don't own, and likewise if we paid for them, you could leave after the lease period and then our group would have to refit and repurpose the property again. The last thing we want is to have to keep dealing with this headache long-term."
"Or you could just buy it outright, for a steal!" Tex said. "Cleanest way to do it."
"How much would that cost?" Cody asked, knowing that their price range was very small.
"Well, that gets more complicated. The group sunk $1.2 million into the property in our own cash to secure an additional $3.2 million in financing for the 130 acres. We still hold most of the borrowed funds for the landscaping and building of the principal buildings, which we've held in interest bearing accounts to offset the interest we owe. So out of the original stake of 4.4 million, just under a million went into purchasing the land, starting construction and making re-negotiated mortgage payments back to the bank."
Cody was shaking his head meekly. He was talking gobs of money. Did Tagg still think Cody was minted after his grandfather's passing? Their conversation at the wedding indicated that was the case.
Tex saw someone he knew and excused himself to "shake hands" for a moment. Jason took the break as an opportunity to relieve his bladder from the long drive.
Cody leaned over the table and whispered low, "Cut the shit Tagg. What the hell is going on here? You hate me, remember?"
Tagg looked at Cody for a moment, hands pressed together in front of his face like he was praying. Then he laughed and smirked.
"Alright, shit stain. You are, for reasons that baffle me, finally dipping your toe into the business world. Good for you, but you're a noob."
Cody shook his head, not understanding.
"Cody, do you think when I'm in that building across the street that I get to work with people I like?"
The question caught Cody off guard.
"Every day it's some new problem with a scummy contractor, an Arab prince or a dictator," Tagg said, gesturing to the building across the street. "I deal with pieces of shit for a living."
Tagg looked around to make sure no one could hear him.
"You are less than nothing to me, and if you think you've seen anywhere near the full brunt of my animosity, then you are sorely mistaken. For instance, think how much love and respect I have for you. And then multiply that by a hundred to begin to understand how much I want to unload this bullshit property. It was my first big deal and I screwed the pooch, and I'm still on the hook with my investors."
Cody was almost relieved to see the real Tagg speaking to him now. Angry, greedy Tagg was oddly more relatable than the affable one.
"If businessmen had to like the people they got into bed with, nothing would ever get done. I don't have to like you. I don't have to respect you. I have to be able to trust you, to predict how you'll behave. And I happen to know you inside and out."
Cody considered that.
"So it may seem odd to you, but there are few people on this earth I'd be more eager to get into business with."
Jason and Tex returned, and Cody and Tagg both leaned back. Tagg started eating his food, which he'd thus far neglected.
"As of two months ago," Tagg said and wiped his mouth with his napkin, "the property appraised at a measly $687,000, far less than we paid. But even if someone was willing to buy at that price, we'd prefer to avoid taking a loss if we can help it, in addition to the improvements we started and the taxes and permits."
"So..." Cody began.
"So now we get down to the nitty-gritty. We would need to spend three or four million to get the property ready for senior living. Not happening." Tagg waved a hand over the table.
"We don't want to lease and we don't want to sell at a loss. So our hope is that we could take option three: We allow you entry into a partnership for a bargain price. We combine our property, your newly stationary service and Tex's clientele. Everybody wins. And then hopefully, in the short term, you can buy us out with your profits or your own secured financing, and we can finally move on to other capital projects more suited to our investment goals."
Cody looked at Jason hoping he would know what all that meant. Jason just nodded eagerly at Tagg.
"Since we've already made considerable cash investment, we feel that to establish this partnership, it would fall to you to purchase your way into it, for the sake of the improvements to be made specific to your business, or our business I should say."
"So, you want to go into business together?" Cody was in sheer disbelief. The details were beginning to make sense, a lot of sense. But partnering with Tagg?
"That's right. And I've already talked it over with my group. We are offering a 49% share for the sum of $350,000. That's not near half what we have already paid in and you will pay nothing more for capital improvements until the future buy out."
"Whoowee, that's a helluva deal!" Tex said.
"So you would run the show?" Cody asked.
Tagg smiled. "You, of course, would be president of the company we would create to oversee the day-to-day management of the resort and its functions. However, you would serve at the pleasure of the stockholders.
Cody was pretty sure that meant he would not in fact be the real boss. Was that so bad though? Tagg had said that they really had little interest in the business. They just wanted it to succeed so they could re-coop their investment and get out.
"Assuming for a second that we have access to that kind of cash, how much would it cost us to get majority ownership?" Cody asked.
"We're willing to consider all reasonable counter offers," Tagg offered congenially. "But I don't foresee us giving up the controlling interest after all we have done."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sellin
g Shares
"So that's how things stand." Cody looked down at his coffee and fidgeted with the paper sleeve on his to-go cup. "It seems like a killer deal, but I can't decide if it's a good idea or not. As much as Jason thinks it's a slam dunk—
"The kiosk guy?"
"Yeah," Cody answered with a short laugh.
Kelly looked at him from across their small table, with an expression he couldn't quite place. Weak sunlight shone through the floor to ceiling windows of the franchise coffee shop, lighting her face. It held an easiness he had never seen before, one that he hadn't expected to encounter after their last meeting.
"Listen, I know you aren't my lawyer. I know that. And I know you don't really like me all that much. And I know you don't respect what I do."
Kelly made to respond, but Cody kept speaking.
"But I don't care about any of that." Cody lifted his ball cap to scratch at his head. "I stand behind everything I said in your office. But I been thinking, and I think you really were trying to look out for me. When I thought about what happened last time we spoke, I decided to just chalk it up to that."
Kelly nodded slightly again.
"I know I haven't been able to put my best foot forward exactly here, but I don't think you really get me. But I think you know that too. And to be fair, I don't really get me."
Cody hoped she wouldn't take offense to any of what he'd said, because it was a real relief to get it out. He waited with great strain for her to start speaking. He wanted so much for them to find common ground.
"Mr. Latour...Cody, I don't like my job."
Cody reared back slowly. His eyebrows bent at odd angles in surprise.
"No. I actually hate it." Kelly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "My father is on the Texas Supreme Court. Cleveland Carson III. Look him up."
Kelly gestured to Cody's phone resting on the table.
"It was basically decided for me since birth that I was going into law to become the next generation of Carson justices. I went along with it, because I told myself that I would be able to help people. And that's what I wanted to do. Help people."