Terminal Value (3 page)

Sandeep closed his browser and pushed himself back to the desk, where he remained deep in thought for the remainder of the day.

Chapter 3

January 21, 9:00 a.m. Boston

With the terms of the acquisition set, things moved quickly. Positions changed, some for the better, some not. Dylan had watched as Art skillfully placed people in the roles he felt best suited them in the growing organization, and although Dylan did not agree with everything, he stood by and quietly watched.

The plans had moved with swift accuracy since earlier in the month when everyone agreed to the acquisition. Art Williams had just completed the initial registration with the SEC, and while they awaited approval, the positions in the Boston office seemed to be on a merry-go-round.

Dylan looked out the window of his office, watching the winter storm pelt the windows. Large snowflakes banded together in heavy clumps that slithered down the frosted glass. He had received a request from Christine Rohnmann for the financial information, which he provided through Rich. Dylan found her to be aloof and removed, but thought she was probably annoyed with him for mentioning her premature request for financial information to Art.

His distant thoughts muffled the knock on his door.

“Hey!” Tony called.

Dylan spun around to see his best friend, disheveled and unkempt, standing across from him. Tony Caruso stood five foot seven in his stocking feet. He was thin to the point of being described as “gaunt,” and his light brown hair and skin told of his northern Italian background.

“Hey!” Dylan said, smiling. “What's up?”

“Just got off the phone with Sandeep Nigam at Mantric. He tells me I will be reporting directly to him.”

Dylan showed his surprise. “I was not aware of that.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope, not at all. He has a great reputation, and besides, if I don't have to make the heavy decisions, it opens me up for some of my own work.”

“You got something going on the side?” Dylan asked with a smirk. Tony always had something going on the side.

“Actually, I do, but it's in such a preliminary stage I'm not ready to talk about it. Doing some research with a guy in New Jersey. When I get it a little further along, I'll send you something on it. I value your comments, you know.”

“Thanks. I'll look forward to giving you my thoughts. And you're sure you're okay with being second banana?”

Tony threw a wad of paper in the air and caught it. “Yep. Not a problem. Just thought you should know.” He threw the wad of paper at Dylan, who caught it with his left hand. “Nice catch,” Tony said, and turned and left the office.

Dylan had not met the full Mantric senior staff, and yet his own staff members were getting calls without his involvement. He wondered about this as he turned back to watch the snow drizzle down the window.

* * *

January 21, 10:00 a.m. Boston

Rob Townsend had been named Senior Vice President of Operations for Mantric. While it was a new role at Mantric, and he hadn't even been given a formal job description, he really didn't care. He felt it fit well with his Harvard MBA. Rob was sitting behind his desk working on a spreadsheet when Heather walked in.

“What are you doing?” she asked, smiling. “Planning on how you're going to spend those millions?” The team continued to reel over the potential windfall of earnings they anticipated as a result of the acquisition by Mantric.

Rob quickly closed the spreadsheet and looked up. “Yeah, this is almost too good to be true. You don't think anything can happen to jinx the deal, do you?” He took the papers he had been working on and threw them into the top right-hand desk drawer.

Heather scrunched up her crooked nose and considered his question. “Why would you think that? Have you heard something that might indicate a problem?”

“No, no! I've just been working out some different scenarios, and it sometimes seems almost impossible.”

“You've been doodling with numbers ever since Dylan told us about this. He's working with Art Williams—jeez—those Mantric people have been all over this building. Of course, nothing is going to go wrong. Dylan wouldn't let that happen to us.”

“Right. Dylan.” Rob quickly looked up at Heather and realized she was annoyed with his line of questioning. “How about lunch?”

Heather smiled. “Sounds good!”

Rob locked his desk, rose, and quickly walked around to take Heather's elbow and direct her away from the office.

“Were you working on something specific?” Heather asked.

“No! Quit bugging me!” Rob snapped.

Heather removed her arm from his hand and stepped away from him.

Across the hall, Dylan watched as Heather pulled away from Rob.
Hmm,
he wondered.
What's that all about?

* * *

January 21, 11:00 a.m. Boston

Tony Caruso watched over the Hyperfōn account like a mother hen clucking over its chicks. Before MobiCelus was acquired, Hyperfōn was MobiCelus's biggest client. With the acquisition all but official, it transferred to Mantric, but Tony remained at its helm.

Hyperfōn presented a slick new business design geared to transform the way consumers used their smartphones. Hyperfōn members would create their own personal “hyperspace” with informative and custom-designed interactive applications called “tiles” that reflected their personal interests and lifestyles. The concept advanced beyond Apple's iPhone, which had generic websites crunched onto a mobile screen. These “tiles” could easily be sent via phone to other Hyperfōn members, allowing communities of friends to quickly embrace, share, and use whatever suited their unique interests. And since new smartphones were being launched every month with different technologies, Hyperfōn had cleverly developed a state-of-the-art adaptive platform that would work on any phone.

Dylan and Rob had worked hard on developing Hyperfōn's strategy, and before the acquisition, Dylan transferred total control of the client to Tony. Tony selected Matt Smith as his second, to focus full attention on the imminent web-based marketing campaign. But it was Tony's extraordinary programming skills that had made Hyperfōn's technology possible. Rob and Dylan remained involved, but in the background.

Tony scratched his head, unsure of something he had just noticed, when Matt walked into his office. “Hey—Tony. You left a message. You wanted to see me?”

Tony looked up from his computer. “Yeah. Did you do something to the account report for Hyperfōn?”

Matt frowned. “No, I haven't done anything with Hyperfōn in about a week. There have been so many Mantric people stopping into my office without notice, just to ask a question, I haven't really had a chance to do anything with Hyperfōn. Why, what's up?”

“I'm not sure, but I went into the account files today, just to get ready for the next few weeks when we launch the campaign, and it seems like some of the information has been accessed. There are very few of us who have access to those files, and I can't imagine who would be opening them.”

“Did you talk to Dylan?” Matt asked. “Maybe he needed to do something.”

“Not like him to keep me out of the loop. But hey, listen—maybe it's just my imagination. I'll talk to Dylan and Rob and see if they did something.”

Matt nodded his head. “I tell ya, there are so many things happening all at once, it's hard to tell what's being done to what! Let me know when you want to get back into this. That campaign is going to be on us before we know it.”

“Yeah, let's plan on getting back into it tomorrow. Let's meet here at nine a.m.”

Matt pulled out his smartphone and noted the appointment, then shoved it back into his pocket. “See you then. Let me know if you want me to bring anything.”

“Right.” Tony watched Matt as he left the office. Sure he was alone, he turned back to the computer and looked at the file list.
Matt's right. Too many things happening at once—too many people involved,
he thought, and closed the file.

Chapter 4

February 15, 9:30 a.m. Boston

A late-winter storm had formed off the coast of the Carolinas and strengthened dramatically as it moved up the coast and raged through Boston. A classic nor'easter.

The weather became the lead story on every news station imaginable, with the forecasters absolutely giddy about the prospect of the storm racing up the coast, dumping not inches but feet of snow in its aftermath—snarling traffic, closing airports and train stations, and making life generally miserable for everyone. In this case, their forecasts were spot-on. Rob parked his new blue Ferrari California in the first-floor garage of the MobiCelus building, taking a spot farthest away from any other vehicles. As he exited the car, he stamped his feet on the concrete floor of the garage to ward off the cold air that swirled around him. He lifted the trunk lid and retrieved a soft woolen cloth from a plastic bag and began brushing the snow from the car.

“Damn!” he said to no one in particular. “I can't believe we're getting a storm like this right after I bought this beauty. That ass in the KIA almost slammed into me!”

He stood back and looked at the car, dabbing here and wiping there to remove every vestige of snow from its shiny exterior. “Yeah, a magnet, for sure!” He reopened the trunk, laid the cloth flat on the carpet inside to dry, and locked the car.

He hurried through the cold garage to the far side of the building, where he rang for the old service elevator. It lumbered slowly down toward him. He pushed the button for the fourth floor, and as the elevator began its crawl up, he fingered the car keys in his pocket and smiled.

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Rob exited, turned left, and walked to his office. The storm had left the bullpen almost empty, except for the few brave souls who lived close to the building. Rob looked around at those who now worked double assignments. Every day, as the date of the official announcement of the acquisition approached, he knew there could be no mistakes, no last-minute problems that might arise and upset the final deal. He had not worked this long and hard to watch everything fall around him.

He entered his office, removed his silk scarf and camelhair coat, carefully hung them up in the closet, and rubbed his hands together to ward off the final remainder of cold. He ran his fingers through his blond hair, turned on his computer and saw three messages—Heather, Dylan, and Molly—his secretary. He dialed Molly.

* * *

February 15, 10:00 a.m. Boston

Heather scanned the multiple flat-panel displays on a table that occupied much of her office, scrutinizing the various designs. Tony and Matt stood on either side of her, following the graceful line made by her slender finger as she drew their attention from one design to another.

“I like this one best, but you two have to select maybe three designs to present to Joe Ferrano. Hyperfōn is his baby, and he will have to make the final decision on the overall appearance of these tiles.”

Matt leaned forward and studied all of the samples on the screens. “I agree with you. I think this one is the best, but there are going to have to be a lot of tile styles once this thing gets moving, so we do want to present him with some initial choices and still have a lot of designs as backup.”

“Hey, you guys, I leave this decision up to you. I'm the geek, remember?” Tony remained removed from the two of them, but kept his eye on the displays.

Heather and Matt looked at each other, then at him. Heather laughed. “Yeah, right. Like you wouldn't put your two cents worth in if you didn't agree. Seriously, Tony, we all have to be in agreement on this. Joe's been really cool about letting us go with our ideas and not hovering over us, but he's no fool. If we don't give him something exceptional, he'll nail it immediately.”

Tony nodded in agreement. “Of course, you're right. I don't disagree with anything you've got here. Have you talked to Dylan or Rob about these choices?”

“Not yet. I wanted some strength in numbers. If you guys don't agree with me, then I have to go back to the drawing board.” She looked at her watch and then let her eyes wander over to the computer on her desk.

Tony caught her glance. “So why don't you call one of them? I saw Dylan earlier this morning when he arrived. Haven't seen Rob yet. Have you?”

It was an awkward moment. Tony knew Heather and Rob were an item, but the atmosphere around them recently seemed cool. He hated getting into personal lives and avoided asking the obvious questions. Now he felt intrusive.

Heather smiled. She knew what was going through his mind. “No, I haven't heard from him. He told me he was picking up a new car last night, so I expect he will be driving very carefully, if you know what I mean.” She nodded toward the window where enormous snowflakes clumped and slid down, pulled by their own weight.

Tony changed the subject. “Okay, I think we agree with you on the best designs to present to Joe. Let me know when you talk to Dylan and Rob, then e-mail me the designs, and I'll put them in the presentation folder. In the meantime, we'll leave you and get back to our other projects.”

Heather knew what Tony meant by “other projects.” He always kept one step ahead of technology, and although she did not know what he was working on, she was sure it would be huge and he would tell them about it when the time was right. She did not question him.

“Right. I'll probably get back to you later today.” She walked them to the door and listened to their conversation until they disappeared down the hallway toward their offices. She looked at her watch again. Ten-thirty, and she still had not heard from Rob. Their conversation the night before had been terse, and she regretted sticking her nose into his business, but she felt the car purchase was premature. He made a point of telling her, in very short sentences, that it was not her business, and their conversation ended abruptly.