Storymania - This Little Piggy by Matt Crisci

This Little Piggy (7)
Matt Crisci

   Just before the doors of the exhibit opened, Ed took the microphone and thanked all for attending, “The Museum has graciously agreed to provide us with guides to explain the subtleties of the displays and there are photographers to take souvenir pictures. When the exhibit ends, we’ll retire to the side rotunda for dinner. And don’t worry, there’ll be a continuous flow of champagne.”
     Then he spotted Michael and Sandra. “So nice to see you again Sandra” he said, kissing her hand. “I hope you are enjoying yourself. I bet you were delighted to hear about Michael’s promotion. All those late nights paid off.”
     When Ed went off to greet other guests, Michael was alone in his wife’s eyes.
     “Damn,” he swore convincingly. “Ed accidentally ruined the surprise. I was going to tell you after dinner at the Stanhope, where I planned a romantic nightcap. Ed and Jay made me an Executive Vice President. There’s a little raise and some other deferred programs. I’ll get the details next week.”
     Sandra welled up. “I’m so, so proud of you.”
     But what about Bob?
                                                                      *
   THE NEXT MORNING he called.
    “I’ve got sensational news!” shouted Bob. “Thanks to Allan’s meticulous attention to detail, the SEC has approved the offering memorandum a lot sooner than expected. Between Norwest and my other market advisors, the offering is pretty much funded. We’ll be ready to go to market in two weeks.”
     Michael hung up. The time had come. First he called Sandra who reluctantly agreed to go along with any decision he made, but asked, “Doesn’t the recent promotion at A&J give you any cause for doubt?”
    A good question. But as always, Michael had an answer. This one with a new wrinkle. “At another time, you, the kids and the promotion would have been enough. But, being realistic, I’ve probably peaked at A&J. Jay will be President for the next decade. I want the opportunity to run my own show. I really think ITI is it.”
Sandra tried to balance Michael’s passion for what was a unique opportunity with the fact that he hadn’t told her about the promotion.
    “I’m not you, so I can only imagine the craving you have for this ITI thing. You’ve never kept anything from me before,” she said tenderly. “But please, be careful. Bob…his women, his dogs, his friends. They’re in a different place than you and I.”
     Michael was embarrassed. He tried to rationalize.
‘Honey, I didn’t keep anything from you, I was just waiting on the A&J stuff until…”
“Michael, please, don’t,” she begged sternly.
Michael knew it was time for full disclosure. He wanted Sandra to love him always. But he also craved her respect.
       “Sandra, baby. Let’s call a spade a spade. Down deep, I have this irrational urge to become filthy rich. I don’t know why and I don’t know if it’s right or wrong. This journey is going to take us into unchartered waters and I don’t know how either of us will react. I just know I don’t want to be staring into the mirror twenty years from now saying, ‘If only I had...’”
                                                                       *
      IT WAS MICHAEL’S BIRTHDAY. Sandra had planned a surprise party for that evening. Coincidentally, Michael had scheduled THE meeting with Chairman Ney for that morning. It would be no party.
      Ed was on the phone when Michael entered his office. A continental breakfast had been thoughtfully arranged.
       “Sit down,” smiled Ed, cupping the phone. “I’ll only be another moment.”
       Michael waited quietly. The sword would not be falling. He held it in his hand.
       “Joe, I appreciate your point about wanting to open two additional offices in Australia, but why don’t we make Sydney a model operation first. It’s remarkable what you’ve done so far,” said Ed over the phone. “You young bucks. Slow down a little. The opportunity to expand isn’t going to evaporate.” Another pause. “Say hello to Essie. Ellen and I look forward to having dinner the next time you’re up from down under.”
         Ed hung up and pressed a little button on the side of his chair. Eerily, the door to the private study closed automatically. They were alone together for the last time.
        “Good to see you, Michael,” Ed smiled warmly. “I thought we might want a little privacy. I haven’t had time for breakfast yet. Can I offer you something?”
       Michael declined, intimidated by his genuine graciousness.
      “You said you wanted to see me.” Ed chided affectionately. “You’re not going to put the touch on me for another raise, are you?”
     “I don’t know if you realize,” began a somewhat embarrassed Michael. “My Dad died about ten years ago. Since that time I’ve thought of you as a father figure, somebody I really would like to emulate. This feeling for you is what makes what I’m about to say so difficult.”
       Ed raised an eyebrow.
       “An opportunity has come my way that can change my life forever,” continued Michael, afraid if he stopped talking, he’d crumble. “To be the co-founder of a startup public company. A chance to be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, to achieve it all in record time.”
       “Oh,” said a surprised Ney. “It doesn’t sound like we’re heading to another advertising agency.”
“No I’m entering the world of Wall Street. I’m becoming a principal in a start-up public company, which will execute a series of financings to create growth through strategic mergers and acquisitions. The day I met with you and Jay, I was so proud, but I had already given my word.”
“How does Sandra feel? She’s a wonderful lady.”
“She frightened, but supportive.”
        “Then your mind is made up?”
        Michael nodded solemnly.
“Would you mind a little advice?”
“I’m honored that you care,” responded Michael.
       “I’ve sensed your desire for the good life for quite some time,” said Ed plainly. “There is no crime in wanting to be rich. I’d be a hypocrite if I said otherwise. I know firsthand that wealth brings pleasures otherwise unachievable. But as somebody a few years older, and perhaps a little wiser, let me give you a bit of wisdom as you begin your new journey.”
      Michael looked at him hard, as if every word he was about to say would be treasured forever. As words filled the room, Michael’s subconscious sourced a dreamy, wholesome, child-like image of Sandra, and placed it next to Ed. Was she an A&J surrogate? Was she Ed’s surrogate? Or, was she Michael’s support system?
      “How you accumulate that wealth can be as important as the wealth itself,” said Ed, sounding older than he had in years. “I’m confident you’ll achieve all your dreams. You’re that kind of person. But your road will be filled with forks. Go down a wrong one and it will be difficult to find your way back.”
      “I understand and appreciate what you are saying,” replied Michael. “And no one could have said it better.”
      “I wish you and Sandra only the best.”
      Ed gave Michael a hug as if he were saying good-bye to a son who could never be like his father. Michael left with tears in his eyes.
                                                              *
“SURPRISE!” SHOUTED 40 PEOPLE as Michael entered the house, depressed about his emotional departure from A& J earlier that day.
“Happy birthday, darling,” said a beaming Sandra.
As Michael looked around the spacious and gaily decorated living room he saw all his close friends and family, as well as his two best friends from A&J, Frank Vuono and Taylor Pyne, and their wives, Dorothy and Somali.
The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was celebrate. But after a couple of Chivas Regals on the rocks, eight or so pieces of his favorite appetizer, spicy tuna roll, and a few bad jokes from his neighbor Tom about some honey in a zipper dress that accidentally split, he began to be his old self.
Besides, just before he got on the train to leave New York, he had called Bob to tell him the A&J deed was done. Bob offered congratulations, and mentioned the stock had already quadrupled to 40 cents, which meant Michael was now sitting on eight million dollars.
“Honey,” said Sandra, “Your friends and I decided to pool our resources and get you one gift.”
“One gift,” smiled Michael to the circling crowd. “That’s all I’m worth? I’ll remember that when it comes time for your birthdays.”
Everybody in the room smiled as Sandra waved a large refrigerated wine cooler into the living room on a dolly. It was stocked with 48 bottles of wine.
“And, what’s this,” said Michael.
“We all know how much you like you’re wines. This cooler is stocked with one bottle each of the last 48 vintage red wines that were rated a perfect 100 by Wine Spectator magazine.”
Michael was blown away.
He thanked everybody in the room. He then held his glass high. “I’d like to toast all of you for coming tonight.”
He then looked deep into Sandra’s eyes. “And, I’d especially like to thank the love of my life for making this an evening I’ll never forget. As best friends go, she is a perfect 100. Always has been, and always will be.”
They embraced intensely and passionately in the presence of all their friends. When they came up for air, Frank and Taylor made like guests at a wedding reception by tapping their glasses, requesting a repeat performance.
When they finished, Michael again raised his hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to make another announcement. I’d like you to wish Michael and Sandra good luck and good fortune on their next journey. I resigned from A&J today to start my own business. Michael is going to be an entrepreneur. With a little luck, you’ll be reading about my venture in Fortune Magazine.
Sandra was stunned at the timing of the announcement. The rest of the room raised their glasses with forced enthusiasm
########

Part Two:

Making it Big

Chapter 6.
Astrid & The Lipstick Building
IT WAS MICHAEL’S FIRST OFFICIAL DAY at ITI and he was ready to carve up the world, but first...
       “I figure we need about five thousand square feet for the next two years for our corporate headquarters,” said John, in charge of real estate options. “Offices for each of us, space for some administrative assistants, a financial group and a few conference rooms. I assumed all the acquisitions would remain in their existing space during this period.”
     “Sounds about right,” responded Bob. “What have you got?”
     “For the last three weeks one of Cushman & Carpenter’s top Manhattan commercial real estate specialists, Leslie Haller and I, have worked closely together looking at nearly two dozen availabilities,” said John. “We’ve narrowed it down to three locations, two in midtown, the third on Park Avenue South around 28th Street.”
     “What’s the deal?” blurted Bob impatiently.
     “The Park Avenue South location is a renovated Bank building. Lots of high ceilings, a very avant-garde space. Unusual big old brass windows, figures painted on the ceiling. Hip location East 28th Street.”
     “How much?”
     “Pretty reasonable: twenty-eight dollars a square foot, triple net, plus they are willing to negotiate concessions on build-outs and carpeting. We also get three free months rental concession.”
     “And Midtown?”
     “Our best options are the Lipstick and The Seagram’s Buildings,” said John.
     “I love the Seagram’s Building, that’s one of the classiest buildings in New York, but what’s the Lipstick Building?” asked Bob.
      “It’s that new red granite building on Third Avenue and 51st, shaped like a sphere,” said Michael, who knew all about nicknames and word games.
      “I’ll bite. Why the hell is it called the Lipstick Building?”
      John shrugged his shoulders, laughing, “I haven’t got a clue. I asked Leslie the same question. She had no idea either.”
       “How much?”
       “Thirty-eight dollars a square foot, two months rent-free. Plus some carpet and painting concessions.”
      “And the Seagram’s Building.”
       “The space is gorgeous,” said John. All floor-to-ceiling windows, two beautiful wood paneled conference rooms, brand new carpeting and the offices are perfectly configured for our needs. Plus it’s available for immediate occupancy.”
       “Love that cafeteria!” mused Bob.
       “’What cafeteria’?” said John.
       “The Four Seasons,” smiled Bob. “We can have our employee meetings every day in the Pool Room.”
      “What floor is the space?”
      “Fifty-fourth. Spectacular city views.”
      “Sounds perfect. Let’s take it.”
      “But don’t we want to know how much the space is in order to analyze the pros and cons?” asked Michael.
     “Oh, yeah.” Bob’s tone telegraphed he couldn’t care less.
     “Admittedly, it’s a bit pricey,” said John. “Sixty-four dollars a square foot.”
     “What concessions are they willing to negotiate?” asked Michael.
     “None.”
     “Look, if we ran the numbers, by the time we finished with construction, upgrades etc., etc., etc., the rents would be roughly comparable,” rationalized Bob.
    “With all due respect Bob, how that could possibly be?” asked Michael who hadn’t figured out that the decision had already been made.
    “Christ, Michael, we don’t need to waste the time doing an analysis,” exploded Bob. “The location is goddamn perfect. It will make a great statement to acquisition candidates, investors, and the financial community. Trust me. I’ve done this stuff before. I know what we need.”
      “But…”
      “Let’s take a vote,” insisted Bob. “John?”
      “The Seagram’s Building.”
      Michael looked to Krotsky who had yet to open his mouth. “Well?”
      “Allan has no vote on operational matters,” responded Bob. “So there we have it, Michael, two to one. John, call Leslie and tell her to get the lease drawn. I’m getting hungry. Let’s break for lunch. My treat in the cafeteria.”
        Krotsky and Michael were stunned. Both understood they should have known better.
                                                                       *
       “GENTLEMEN,” ANNOUNCED JOHN. “This is real estate agent Leslie Haller who’s been working on our behalf these last few weeks. She wants to review the lease.”
      But first they reviewed Leslie, one hot property herself. Sophisticated and impeccably groomed with shoulder length brown hair and a dark, silky complexion, perfectly augmented by a beautifully proportioned figure tastefully masked in a pastel silk shirt and modest see-through blouse. Bob and Michael wondered how long John had been leasing her.
       “As you know, this is not my prime project,” she began with a look in her eye that had Bob instantly enthralled. “I’m investing my time because I understand you’re on the fast track, and will need a major space very quickly. That’s when I’ll make my money. As you know, Jewish girls in Manhattan don’t live by bread alone.”
    With that she slid the lease in front of Bob.
    “It’s boilerplate,” she said sweetly. “No special clauses, no curveballs. I’ve even included a sixty-day out provision, so you can easily upgrade to a larger space in the building. The landlord had no problems with the clause because they feel the space is so desirable. They can re-rent it in a matter of days.”
    “What about a sublease clause, in case we want to keep the space or use it for one of our acquisitions?” asked Bob.
   “I thought about that, but the landlord wanted a seven dollar per foot increase for the right to include a sublease clause increase. It didn’t seem to make good economic sense given your aggressive acquisition and financing plans. However, if you wish, I’d be happy to revisit the issue.”
      Leslie slowly crossed her legs and stared at him soulfully. Bob signed with a flurry.
     “I also need the counter signature of your COO. Would that be John?” she asked.
      “John?” said Bob who pushed the lease across the desk to Michael. “Congratulations. You are about to execute your first act as the ITI Chief Operating Officer.”
      Michael followed Bob’s lead and signed without looking at a single clause.
      “See you about eight?” asked John as Leslie packed her bag.
      “Don’t be late,” she smiled back over her shoulder. “It’s not often I cook at home.”
       “Hallelujah! We’re going uptown.” Bob threw up his arms.
       Everything was going up all around them.
                                                      *
“SO HOW GOES IT AT ITI?” said Sandra sweetly in front of a crackling fire, as Michael held her in his arms during evening quiet time.
“It’s certainly different than A&J.”
“Are we happy?”
Michael read concern in Sandra’s body language. “Relax baby. It’s nothing like that. It’s just a lot more free wheeling than I’ve been used to.”
“Translation, please.”
“Today, we signed on the dotted line for our first corporate space.”
“So.”
“I think we committed about three million dollars on the spot. No committee meetings, no financial reviews, no detailed analysis.”
“Holy crap, three million dollars. What did you guys buy?”
“Five thousand square feet at The Seagram’s Building.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. If I made a recommendation like that at the hospital they’d think I was crazy. We can build a whole wing for that kind of money.”

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