The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set (76 page)

“I don’t plan to,” she said.
 
“But
I’m going through with
tonight’s opening.
 
This
isn’t
about
my father
any
more,
Michael.
 
This is
about
me—my
abilities.
 
All
of
New
York
will
be there
tonight.
 
Those who matter
will finally
be
watching
me.
 
I’ve
waited
too long
for
this.
 
If
I
quit
and go
to
work
for
my
father—assuming
he’ll hire
me—there’s
no
telling how long I’d
have
to
wait
for
a
moment
like
this.”

She
looked
at
him
with
such
impatience,
Michael
was taken
aback.

“Don’t you
see?” she
said.
 
“Ever since I was
a
kid
I’ve
watched
my
sister
and
him
shine.
 
Since
I was
a
kid,
I knew
I
could
do
everything they could do—but I
wasn’t
given
the chance.”
 
She
stepped
out
of
bed and
moved
naked to
the
bathroom.

“I don’t want
to
discuss
this,”
Leana
said.
 
“I’m
opening that hotel
tonight
and
I
hope
you’ll
be there
to support me—”

She
stopped
suddenly
and
turned toward
the
radio,
her
eyes
widening
as
it
was
announced
that WestTex,
the
floundering
shipping company
George Redman
reportedly
paid
$10
billion
for,
had become Redman
International’s earlier
that
morning.

“Watch
Redman
International’s
stock
when
the
Dow
opens
this
morning,”
the
commentator
said.
 
“How this plays out will be critical for George Redman.
 
If it
falls
any
further,
some critics say Redman
will
be
a
prime
candidate
for
a
takeover
himself.
 
In related news, the same isn’t true for
Anastassios Fondaras, the
Greek shipping
magnate
who
went
public
moments
ago
as
Iran’s new
chief
exporter
of oil.”

CHAPTER FIFTY

Confident, magnificent, his heart full for the first time in years, Louis Ryan left his office, stepped smartly down the busy hallway to his boardroom and faced his directors, most of whom were spirited to New York only last evening—leaving behind previous engagements, summer vacations in progress, mistresses in foreign countries.
 
The usual.

They were in groups of three or four, sipping steaming mugs of coffee or tea, unaware of his presence.
 
As Louis stood in the doorway, only dimly aware of their quiet babble of conversation, his gaze swept the room for Peter Horrigan, the Wall Street lawyer who had been hired to advise the directors of their rights and duties, and saw with a smile that he wasn’t there yet.
 
If he had been, if these men and women even sensed what he was about to propose, Louis knew he would be entering pandemonium.

He closed the door behind him and the conversations stopped.
 
They looked at him, their expressions ranging from minor annoyance to genuine concern.
 
Why had he brought them here?
 
What couldn’t have waited until their scheduled August board meeting?

Louis moved into the room, an old friend greeting each director with a warmth that was almost beguiling.
 
He asked after their wives, their husbands and their families, alleviating the tension with well-chosen jokes, a deep-throated laugh.
 
He knew he had alarmed them with the suddenness of this meeting and if he was to garner their support, it was imperative that he make them feel comfortable now.

Never had he been more charming.
 
His eyes shined with a light of mystery and sparkled with a sense of humor few had seen in him before.

And then, as he asked them to be seated, Peter Horrigan arrived.

To Louis, the crashing silence that followed was almost comical.
 
As Horrigan moved into the room, smiling to those people he knew, nodding at the few he didn’t, Louis looked at each of his directors and knew the time to act was now, while they were still too stunned to speak.

While the others sat, he remained standing and faced them all with a strength and purpose that was as compelling as they had come to expect from a man who had built from nothing a multi-billion dollar corporation.

“Welcome,” he said to the group.
 
“And again I want to thank you all for leaving your families and coming here on such short notice.
 
I understand many of you were enjoying summer vacations and I promise you that your time in New York will be short.
 
But since our last meeting, events have changed so dramatically with one of our competitors, I felt it was in the best interest of our shareholders to meet now and not only discuss the future of this great company, but also the fate of another—Redman International.”

He paused for effect, and noticed that all eyes turned briefly to Peter Horrigan, who was seated at Louis’ right, before turning back to Louis himself.

Louis continued.
 
“As I’m sure most of you are aware, this morning George Redman and his directors went against the odds and purchased WestTex Incorporated, the large shipping company based in Corpus Christi, Texas.
 
In the first twenty minutes of today’s Dow, Redman stock has fallen eleven points—and it’s still dropping.

“Before coming here, a source of mine at Redman International phoned to inform me that George Redman and his directors are in a state of panic.
 
In order to make this deal with WestTex work, Redman was counting on a deal he made privately with Iran.
 
It was a deal that not only would have made him Iran’s chief exporter of oil, but one that also would have made him billions.
 
In theory, his idea was brilliant—but the agreement was only verbal.
 
Redman chanced everything on a verbal commitment because Iran refused to sign anything until WestTex became Redman International’s.
 
They felt it was a waste of time to commit themselves otherwise, and they were correct.”

He shook his head as though the risk Redman took was wildly inappropriate. “Unfortunately for George Redman, Anastassios Fondaras had a similar deal in the works with Iran—and his was finalized only minutes after Redman signed the final papers with WestTex, thus leaving him with $10 billion in added debt, and a shipping company that can’t support itself.”

Glances were exchanged while Louis sat.
 
Then Charles Stout, a former chairman at American Express and a proverbial thorn in Louis’ side, spoke. “So, what are you suggesting, Louis?
 
That we take over the company?”

Louis smiled at Stout.
 
“That’s precisely what I’m suggesting, Charles.
 
By taking over Redman International, we not only will become a world leader in steel and textiles, but we’ll also acquire a commercial airline and some of the more attractive and profitable hotels and casinos in the world—not to mention the Redman International Building itself, which, if handled correctly, could be a veritable gold mine in rental opportunities.
 
We owe this to our shareholders.”

Stout was incredulous.
 
“Owe this to our shareholders?” he said.
 
“Are you implying that we owe it to our shareholders to take over a company that’s just assumed $10 billion in debt?
 
A shipping company that’s been floundering for months?
 
Our stock will plummet.
 
We’ll wind up where Redman is now.”

Louis was absolutely calm.
 
“Look at the big picture, Charles.
 
We’ll sell WestTex. We’ll get rid of the debt.’’

“Who are we selling it to, Louis?
 
Who in the world is going to buy that shipping company?
 
We’d be lucky if we could give it away, let alone sell it to someone for $10 billion dollars.”

For a long moment, no one spoke.
 
Then Louis, who had shown no reaction to Stout’s outburst, pulled his trump card and went in for the kill.
 
“I already have a buyer, Charles.
 
Before this meeting, I phoned Anastassios Fondaras in Iran and he’s agreed to buy WestTex in the event that Redman International becomes ours.
 
He needs a larger fleet with this new deal.
 
And he’s agreed to pay the full $10 billion.”