much?”
“A lot more than you think we have.”
“How much is that?”
“Most of it from a single deal I put together in Singapore. And I think I can pull together a syndicate of a few more smaller players in Singapore and Hong Kong for the rest.”
“No. How fucking much?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Then you’ve just bankrupted this firm. We close our doors in less than a month.”
“We – ”
“Get out. Get the fuck out. Just get the fuck out.”
I made a performance of drawing a breath, exhaling in overly tried patience; articulating that I was winning because Kyle was losing his temper.
“Before I went to Bangkok,” I announced conspicuously, “we agreed I was going to run with this one.” I opened my palms, concentrated on sprinting ahead of Kyle’s next outburst. “When I came back from Bangkok – ”
“That wasn’t – ”
“And reported on the preliminary negotiations, we agreed to run hard with it.”
“What we planned – ”
“And I have.”
“That’s an understatement! Paris, we talked buying on a best-efforts basis. About paying maybe twenty million, tops. From our own capital. And dialling for dollars to syndicate another twenty or thirty million. But only taking what we could pay for or pre-sell in syndication. Not a penny more.”
“And paying for the rest of the offering by using the financing from Singapore.”
“Agreed. You were supposed to be bringing on Bank of South Asia in Singapore to back us up with the additional mezzanine financing.”
“Which I have.”
“But we were going to broker the deal. Not buy it outright. We didn’t expect to buy the entire bond issue and have to pay for the whole damn thing sight unseen. Now we’re expected to settle up on a hundred million with Bangkok Commercial Bank. By March fuckin’ tenth.”
I waited.
In the diameters of discord and uneasy quiet that persisted between us, it seemed that we were breathing in unison. To break the grip of Kyle’s anger and accusation I found myself expanding my chest and holding my lungs full.
“Paris, our treasury people are fielding all kinds of flack about where do we expect to get that kind of capital. Even if we sold off everything we owned in a fire sale, and leveraged that right to the hilt, we could barely raise half that much. Am I missing something? Was I not listening when you told me about how some rich uncle just died last week and left you a spare hundred million?”
I measured Kyle’s rhythm, tried to interrupt it at a weak link. “That’s not the important thing this minute.”
“If it’s not, I’d sure as hell like to know what is.”
“The important thing is that we got the entire issue with no competition and no interference. And because we cut the competition out of the market, we got the deal at a much better price. A lot more profit for us. That’s the important point.”
“Except now we can’t pay for it.” Kyle hesitated. Sniffed savagely. “And that’s the sure-as-shit important point!”
I listened to the heat pumping into the room and to the wind scouring the wide windows. Over Kyle’s shoulder the city skyline wobbled in the ashen winter light.
Kyle struck swiftly, lowering his voice, levelling his tone, thrusting the allegation in his words. “You’ve been on shaky ground this past half year. Since …”
“Since what?”
“Since you damn well know what.”
“Let’s,” I stated, “keep my personal life out of this.”
“Okay then,” Kyle conceded in lemon tones, “let’s keep it to your performance around here.”
“Where the numbers speak for themselves.”
“Sure. On your own you’ve produced as much income for the firm as the rest of us combined.”
This was familiar between us; we recited our responses as if reprising them from previous dissonance.
“That’s right,” I said.
“But I built this firm with a team of partners,” Kyle proclaimed. “Not with lone players.”
“Yeah. Well. Fine.” Giving ground would only give him momentum.
“I’m sure the directors would be interested in having their newest executive vice-president give them that fuck-you attitude at the next board meeting.”
This was sour. And suspicious. Kyle gathering fuel from as many sources as possible to ensure that his accusations consumed everything in their path.
I refused Kyle sufficient quarrel, or voice, to let it go any further.
Scooping up the silence, Kyle regrouped, resumed his original censure. “You bring this deal to us last summer, sell us on your promise to pull if off, and then you miss half the meetings, missed half of everything around here, once we take it on.”
This was a portent. Kyle resuming the course of least resistance. Refusing to concede the possibility of success for the bond sales, leaving me with the minimal defence of trying to brush aside the potential for failure. Seeking to lay the predicament at my feet in his indictment of my consistency, if not my competence. It was unsafe to remain in the path of such determination. Kyle had already choreographed this entire meeting in his mind ahead of time. There was no use trying to change any of it now. If I was lured into trying, I would be absorbed into his agenda. Better to cut it off. Get out.
“I missed those meetings for a reason,” I told Kyle succinctly. “You know why. You saw it then. You just don’t want to see it now.”
It was a weak statement that I didn’t feel entitled to truly believe. But it served. I watched Kyle’s face slowly fill with coppery indignation, spreading from his nose out across his cheeks towards his temples.
“If you don’t want to,” I added, losing momentum, “I can’t make you.”
That was the end of it. We had both circled our conflicts long enough, talking around them to purposely ignore each other’s points. Neither of us owned any progress. Neither could be bothered with any further arguing. Both of us were equally betrayed by it.
“Get out,” Kyle grumbled blandly.
As much as I wanted to stand, pivot, and leave without another word, let Kyle re-breathe the staleness of his own aggression, I needed Kyle’s cooperation. I needed the firm. I needed its capital and resources to ensure the success of my bonds. Let myself be reduced to striking back in similar rage and I would dilute the mortar necessary to join my deal and my career, to mend my life with fresh momentum.
Ducking his disregard, I tried to purge my tone of any admission or apology. “Give me a chance to make a few calls and check my faxes and email. And double-check our financing arrangements in Singapore overnight. It’ll take the best part of twenty-four hours. We might as well put the exact numbers on the table. First thing tomorrow morning.”
“We might as well, Paris.”
Kyle was dismissing me; making it apparent that, in his opinion, I had lost the argument, if not something more.
As I turned, he caught me between the shoulder blades with a parting thrust. “If you had bothered to come to the office yesterday we wouldn’t have to waste time waiting for this information now. Would we?”
Another of Kyle’s perfected tactics, reducing