Simon

When I’d first heard my newest assignment would be in Dallas, I’d been less than thrilled about the location. I was an urban dweller who preferred larger cities, such as London or New York. However, a job was a job, so I flew in from New York at the last possible moment before my scheduled dinner with the owner of the newest company I was looking to buy on behalf of my client.

Only in small-town America did an owner wanting to discuss the potential sale of his business invite someone over for dinner rather than make a reservation at a fancy restaurant. But my client was adamant about purchasing this particular company and I didn’t make my millions by telling him no. The least I could do was drop by one of the local supermarkets to pick up a bottle of champagne beforehand.

What I hadn’t counted on was meeting the charming Ms. ‘Quite’ Single Peyton at the market, of all places. She’d been a breath of fresh air. Especially since I’d spent the last few years in Manhattan meeting women who were more interested in my zip code or net worth than anything else. Of course, when you worked eighty hours a week, who had time for dating anyhow?

I’d laughed more in the ten minutes spent with her than I could ever remember having laughed with anyone.

Once I was in the back of the sedan and pulling out from the grocery store, I rang my assistant, Emma.

“Hello, Simon,” she answered.

Emma had been my right arm over the last seven years and probably knew me better than anyone else did.

“Hello. You all packed?” She was flying out of New York tomorrow to meet me here and bringing along our accountant, Tom.

“I am. However, I’m not sure what to pack for Kansas.”

I grinned. “Texas. They get very perturbed here if you call it anything else.”

Emma was British like me. And like me, she didn’t often get the whole state pride thing. It was decidedly American. Nevertheless, I’d learned it didn’t do us any favors to piss off people by lumping them into the wrong state. It was almost as bad as getting the American football teams wrong.

“Fine. Fine. Is it hot?”

“Not too bad this time of year.” It was March and mild. However, I was told that in August it would be a different story. “Do you by chance have a status on my International Driver’s Permit?” Without one, I wasn’t eligible to drive here in the States. I realized I’d prefer to pick Peyton up for a date instead of showing up with a driver.

There hadn’t been a need to drive in New York City, which I’d called home for a decade. But if I was to be here in Texas for the next few weeks, I didn’t want to be chauffeured around. The look on Peyton’s face had been enough to confirm that wasn’t typical here in the Southwest. Plus, it had been a long time since I’d driven, and I was eager to try it again.

“Yes. The permit came in. I’ll email you a photo of the document, so at least you’ll have proof until the hard copy arrives. Although I don’t understand why you wouldn’t prefer to have a driver.”

“This isn’t New York. There’s a lot of space, and I’m anxious to take a car on the open road and step on the gas.” What could I say? Freedom was calling to me.

“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number. The Simon I know prefers not to waste any time and to work in the back of the car.”

She wasn’t wrong. It was how I often spent car or plane rides.

“You sure you want to rent a Mercedes? I can call back and get a fire-engine red Lamborghini.”

“Funny. Actually, what would fit in better here would be a pickup truck.”

“Oh, the horror. Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing boots and baling hay.”

“Keep making jokes, and I’ll change our hotel reservation to the Stagecoach Inn.”

Of course she had to have the last word. “As if you’d remember how to make your own reservation, let alone change one.”

Once again, she wasn’t wrong.

***

When I arrived at the owner of Maddox Consulting’s house, my first thought was that it was huge. After living in both Manhattan and London, where land was at a premium, I found it jolting to see such a sprawling house, with dozens more like it lining the street.

The man himself greeted me at the door, clasping my hand in a firm grip. “Hello, Mr. Granger. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Please call me Simon, Mr. Owens.”

“In that case, call me George.” He ushered me in. He was a big man with a bona fide Texas handlebar moustache. A silver belt buckle the size of a plate held up jeans that boasted creases which had obviously been pressed with care.

I immediately wanted to like him. This wasn’t typical. Normally, I didn’t have feelings one way or another about the people involved with the companies we bought. In my job, there were no personal ties as I couldn’t afford to let anything like that get in the way of a deal.

I offered up the bottle of champagne, and he took it gracefully. Now, after meeting the man, I guessed he would’ve preferred a bottle of whiskey.

“Thank you. Hope you’re a steak eater. I’m grilling up some nice rib eyes.”

“I am, indeed.”

He led me out to the patio where he had the steaks on the grill. A woman who was around his age was setting the table on a beautifully decorated outdoor patio space that overlooked the pool just beyond it. Once again, the sheer amount of land was impressive.

 “Good. This is my wife, Carol. Carol, this is Simon Granger.”

She greeted me with a kind smile. “Hello, Simon. Nice to meet you. Do you want me to take your suit jacket?”

I was overdressed. That much was evident as she was also wearing jeans. “No, but thank you.”

“We don’t stand on much ceremony here in Dallas, which is why I love this state and this city. Sorry, I should’ve told you to arrive casual,” George offered.

Ironically, I felt the most comfortable in a suit, maybe because I spent most of my time in one. “It’s quite all right. I probably should’ve brought whiskey instead of champagne.”

“No, no. It’s fine. So, your boss says you’re an expert in the art of acquisitions. Considering the man isn’t generous with compliments, it’s quite a feat to garner one.”

I worked for Phillip Stone, billionaire and investor in over fifty companies and the owner of the Stone Group LLP. I’d been there for the last seven years and helped him buy over half of those companies. Sometimes he’d keep them; other times he’d turn around and sell the pieces. It was my job to advise what would make the most profit. Although Phillip wasn’t free with his compliments, as George pointed out, we’d struck a good balance. He trusted me enough with his money to find the best deals, and I turned over every rock to ensure we made good decisions.

“I appreciate his faith in me.” I watched as George flipped the steaks with practiced ease.

“Well earned, I hear. However, before selling my company, I want to be very clear about two things.”

Something told me this man honestly meant whatever he was about to say. Most owners were simply out to make money, but George seemed different. “All right.”

“One. I understand you want to interview all of the employees at Maddox Consulting to make a determination about who will fit into the new business. It’s basically a fancy way of saying you want to get rid of people you think won’t cut it.”

In a word, yes. Sometimes there were people in a company who’d been in the same position a lot of years who became complacent. “We simply want the type of people who are committed to the long term, which will include a lot of change. Not all employees want a new financial system, new policies and procedures. The interview process is integral to ensure everyone is on board.”

He sighed. “I get it. But you have to understand I care about these people. So in that vein of thought, I want to offer packages. I have some employees nearing retirement. I want to give them the option of an early retirement package. For everyone else, if you choose not to keep them, I’d like to give them a generous termination package.”

Although most owners didn’t particularly care to do this since it dipped into their profit from the sale, his suggestion wasn’t unheard of. “I’m certain we can accommodate your request. And what’s the second condition?”

“You let me be the one to tell my people. A lot of them have been with me a number of years. I want to be sure they understand my reasons. Also, you should be aware my director of accounting is the key to getting ninety percent of the information you need. She’s been acting CFO since Jerry retired. Hands down, she’s my biggest asset in the back office.”

I made a mental note. The first course of business was discovery. Having a key person to assist us with the audit and interviews expedited things greatly. “Of course you can tell them however you choose once the sale is final. And we can certainly use a point person on the inside for the audit, so it’s good to hear you have someone capable for us.”

Oftentimes, after examining the books and a company’s finances, the result was no deal at all and us walking away. One thing I never did was waste my boss’s money. Simply put: if he didn’t make money, then I didn’t make money.

“Why don’t you walk me through your process for audit, and I’ll answer any questions you may have?”

“Happy to.” It’s what I was here for. I might like George, but my loyalty would always reside with my boss and with my job.