Twenty-nine years old, he’d been with me the last three – ever since that situation in Brazil. I guess I should have taken the hint when my father was kidnapped five years ago, but… I’m a little stubborn sometimes.
I stepped out and gave Johnny a look. “You’re kind of blowing my cover.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a uniform on. They’ll just think I’m a sedan service or something.”
It was true; he was dressed in a regular suit. He could follow me anywhere inconspicuously – which he was about to suggest in three, two, one –
“I’m really not comfortable letting you go in there by yourself,” he said.
“It’s a business building, not a slum. We’re in LA, not Mexico City. And there hasn’t been anything on the radar in over six months.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s not something on the horizon,” he pointed out.
“Too bad. I can’t exactly waltz in there incognito if I have a bodyguard with me.”
“You can tell them I’m a… a consultant.”
“A consultant for what, breaking arms?”
He grinned. “Whatever needs getting done.”
“Look, I’ll be in and out, an hour tops. Speaking of which, go get yourself an In ‘N Out burger. I know you’ve been thinking about it ever since we landed.”
Johnny sighed. “You do know my weakness.”
I laughed. “That’s my gift, knowing people’s weaknesses. Go on – I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
“Just promise me you won’t leave the building until I get here.”
I held up my hand like I was taking the Presidential Oath of office. “I swear.”
“Yeah, right,” he said, and gave me a sideways glance as he got back in the Bentley.
“First Sebastian, now you – why does nobody trust me?” I asked as I backed away towards the Exerton Building.
“‘Cause we know you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as he shut the door. He hung out, though, until I was safely inside the building.
4
Exerton Consulting.
Bane of my existence.
I was the primary stockholder in LMGK, an international consulting firm. The board of directors had been making noise for years about acquiring Exerton – a much smaller company with some top-notch contracts.
Only problem was, I was convinced that there was some rot in the middle of the woodpile.
For one, their Executive Compensation department was run by a halfwit named Klaus Zimmerman. The worst kind of asshole – supremely confident yet inherently lazy. I’d seen a report he’d put together for one of my friend’s companies, and it just stank to high heaven of cooked numbers.
Then I’d actually listened in on him during a conference call.
It constantly amazes me how far some people can fail upwards.
Which was another problem: any organization that lets a guy like that stay on as an executive is a corporation that needs a major gutting and overhauling.
Not one you pay top dollar for in a buyout.
I’d raised my concerns – loudly – but LMGK’s CEO and the board were obsessed with acquiring Exerton. Which is stupid beyond belief: never, ever be so attached to something that you can’t walk away from it at a second’s notice.
That goes for businesses… and people.
Everybody else thought I was being overly cautious, overly demanding. They didn’t stop to wonder if that was one of the reasons I was worth over ten billion and they weren’t, but… oh well.
At 22% of outstanding stock, I didn’t have a controlling share in LMGK, so I couldn’t torpedo the buyout alone. And everybody wanted it but me. Next Monday was the big day when the final decision would be made. Which meant that I stood to lose, oh, fifty million if the stock price tanked. Which I was fairly sure would happen, sooner or later.
I could have just sold the stock, but… fuck that.
Nobody tells me no.
I fought them so hard and so long, they finally gave in out of exhaustion. LMGK’s board agreed I could scuttle the deal – if I had proof.
Exerton’s CEO, a guy named Dave Westerholtz (another problem; nice guy, but not CEO material) was so damn eager to have the buyout go through that he was willing to give me carte blanche in looking at the Exec Comp records.
Which should have been another warning sign since, strictly speaking, it wasn’t legal. Those reports were the property of the corporations that had paid for them. I was a shareholder in some of their competitors, so I doubt they would have appreciated my going in and looking at what they’d paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for. Their lawyers surely wouldn’t.