Scratch The Surface - Mary Calmes Page 0,9

It was a brand-new experience for me. I always held myself so tight, so closed off, so rigid, so careful not to make a misstep, and then the one time I threw caution to the wind, the man had been a hustler. Anyone who knew me, even in passing, would pass out from shock. Spontaneous was not something I had ever been.

“Cam.”

I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit off my game this morning, but if you look at page five, you’ll see a list of their assets and the depreciation and amortization of––”

“Cam,” Mrs. Nichols said again.

“Yes, ma’am?” I asked, stopping and taking a breath.

Instead of speaking, she glanced around the table, then returned her pale blue gaze to me. “I just wanted to say that we appreciate your candor. You give us the facts and then allow us to decide, and it usually takes a bit of prodding to get you to share your insights or give us your informed opinion. As you are the senior manager on our account, I prefer you to advise us on the viability of an investment and then, if we disagree, to go over the pros and cons of the acquisition, but this—I think I speak for everyone here when I say, whatever prompted this change, please carry on.”

Looking around the table, I saw the nods. Drake’s eyes were narrowed, and he was staring at me with a bemused expression. I was, apparently, a strange new creature. “Well.” I looked back down at the proposal I had planned to leave with them rather than go over. I didn’t do that. I didn’t lead discussions. I prodded, I suggested, but I didn’t give my opinion because they were the client. They chose; I merely presented the facts. Mr. Stein had told me on several occasions that clients wanted management along with facts and figures, and it was our job to steer them into making the right decision. I always argued that guidance was called for instead. He felt I was too passive, but as I was within the mandate of the firm, he didn’t argue with my approach. At the moment, with me giving a definitive judgment, he would be crowing in happiness.

I was about to walk it back, had my mouth open to change my mind, when Mrs. Nichols told me to go ahead. “We’re all listening,” she apprised me.

Taking a breath, I dove in.

I spoke about the documents I’d already collected from the Lass Corporation, their profit-and-loss statement for the previous year and the first six months of this one, and said that I would have engagement letters, request lists, and a breakdown of their 10-K SEC filings by later in the week if they were interested in moving forward.

“Yes,” Mrs. Nichols assured me, “we’re very interested in following your suggestion.”

Huh.

“I’ll let Emily Todd over at Dunbar know we won’t be moving forward, and I’ll contact—is it Rachel Evans you have listed here at Lass?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll contact her and see if we can have a meeting at the beginning of next week. Will you be available to meet as well?”

“Of course. We’re here to service the client.”

“Excellent. Can we expect you to give us a progress report and account review for the consultation with the full board next week?”

“Certainly,” I agreed, and when I turned to glance at Doug, he was still sitting there, mouth open, gaping at me. He was probably wondering who I was and what had happened to the seemingly middle-of-the-road, vanilla coworker he’d met at the airport the day prior.

“Also,” Drake spoke up quickly, “one of our holding companies, Axton Enterprises, is the parent company of Country Porch restaurants. They’re looking to acquire several profitable restaurants across the state and rebrand them instead of building new. One of the ones they’re extremely interested in is in Barrett Crossing, but they’re having issues with the acquisition.”

“In what way?”

“The owner doesn’t want to sell.”

I squinted at him. “Well, then, don’t buy it. Skip the location.”

He grimaced. “The problem is Axton made a promise to their investors that they would put a Country Porch in every town in the state.”

Which was why they were looking to buy already existing restaurants; it would cut down on the upfront costs in a state the size of California. “That seems to be over-promising, does it not?”

“Oh, it does,” Mrs. Nichols agreed, her expression letting me know she was not pleased. “The chairman of the board of directors at Axton announced this plan at

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