Chương 3
Then back to me.
Her eyebrows rose by approximately an inch.
I ignored her.
Mr. Sterling gestured toward the empty chairs across from him.
"Please."
His voice had changed.
At the airport, it had been low and dry and almost private.
Here, it carried the quiet authority of someone who had never needed to repeat himself in a boardroom.
I sat down.
Mara took the chair beside me and placed our presentation folders on the table.
No one spoke for several seconds.
One of the executives cleared his throat.
"Should we begin?"
"Of course," Mr. Sterling said.
His eyes remained on me for one beat longer than necessary.
Then he looked down at the materials in front of him.
I opened my laptop.
My hands were steady.
I was absurdly proud of that.
"Thank you for meeting with us," I began.
My voice sounded normal too.
Apparently the human body could perform remarkable administrative functions while the brain screamed.
"We've spent the last four months studying the regional acquisition patterns you asked us to evaluate, with particular attention to mid-market healthcare services and the operational risks that tend to disappear in conventional diligence."
The executive to Mr. Sterling's right, a silver-haired woman named Diane Walsh, leaned forward.
"What do you mean by disappear?"
I answered her.
Then another director asked about our sample.
Then someone challenged one of our assumptions.
The work took over.
That was the only thing that saved me.
Numbers behaved.
Data had definitions.
A bad retention curve did not send a voice message saying it hoped you had a good trip.
For forty minutes, I forgot the airport.
I forgot Preston.
I almost forgot the man at the end of the table had once held me while I cried onto his shoulder.
Then Mr. Sterling interrupted.
"Slide twenty-three."
I stopped.
Our presentation was on slide seventeen.
He tapped the printed deck beside his hand.
"Go to twenty-three."
I did.
The slide showed a set of regional expansion scenarios for one of Sterling Capital's portfolio companies.
A note in the bottom-right corner marked our confidence level as moderate.
Mr. Sterling folded his hands.
"You recommend against the acquisition."
"At the proposed valuation, yes."
"Why?"
I explained the reimbursement concentration, the staffing exposure, and the inflated utilization assumptions embedded in the target's projections.
He listened without expression.
When I finished, he asked, "If I told you we already own thirty-eight percent of that company?"
Mara's foot touched mine beneath the table.
I looked at him.
"Then I'd say you own thirty-eight percent of a company you shouldn't buy the rest of at that price."
One of the executives inhaled sharply.
Diane Walsh looked down, hiding what might have been a smile.
Mr. Sterling's face did not change.
"You'd say that to a client?"
"I just did."
Silence settled over the table.
The younger version of me would have softened the answer.
My father certainly would have.
He could tell someone their favorite strategy was financially suicidal and somehow make them feel thanked afterward.
I had inherited his company, not his diplomacy.
Mr. Sterling glanced at the slide.
"Suppose the board insists."
"Then our recommendation doesn't change."
"You'd risk the account?"
Mara's foot pressed harder against mine.
I resisted the urge to kick her.
"We'd risk the account before we'd alter the research to protect it."
He studied me.
It lasted long enough to become uncomfortable.
Then he closed the printed deck.
"Good."
The meeting continued for another hour.
By the end, my mouth was dry and the coffee in front of me had gone cold.
Diane Walsh asked several precise questions about implementation.
A man from legal wanted to know how we handled conflicts in expert interviews.
Someone from operations challenged our staffing assumptions and eventually conceded two of them after Mara produced data from three competing markets.
Mr. Sterling mostly listened.
That somehow felt more dangerous than if he had spoken constantly.
When the presentation ended, the executives began gathering their papers.
Diane stood and shook my hand.
"Strong work."
"Thank you."
She looked toward Mr. Sterling.
"Especially slide twenty-three."
Then she left.
The others followed.
Mara remained seated.
I began closing my laptop.
Mr. Sterling did not move.
His assistant appeared at the doorway.
He shook his head once.
The assistant disappeared.
Mara looked at me.
Then at him.
Then back at me.
"I should probably go make a phone call."
"No," I said too quickly.
She smiled with all the warmth of a traitor.
"I definitely should."
"Mara."
"Very important call."
"You don't have a call."
"I have several."
She gathered her folder and stood.
At the door, she paused beside Mr. Sterling.
"Her research is better when her personal life isn't detonating."
I stared at her.
"Mara."
Mr. Sterling's mouth moved slightly.
"So I've observed."
Mara left before I could fire her from the company she partly owned.
The door closed.
I looked at Mr. Sterling.
He looked at me.
"This is horrifying," I said.
"Which part?"
"All of it."
"That seems broad."
I folded my hands in my lap.
"You knew who I was."
"At the airport?"
"Yes."
"No."
"But you asked my full name."
"I asked your name."
"That distinction is doing a lot of work."
He leaned back.
"I didn't connect you to Mercer & Vale until later."
"When?"
"That evening."
"How?"
"You told me your name."
"And then you researched the crying woman who attacked your jacket?"
"You didn't attack it."
"I grabbed you."
"Briefly."
"That is an alarmingly generous interpretation."
A faint smile appeared.
"I had an investment committee packet waiting in the car."
Understanding came slowly.
My name would have been in it.
Our firm's name certainly was.
"You recognized it."
"Eventually."
I felt heat rising into my face.
"So you knew before today."
"Yes."
"And you didn't warn me."
"How?"
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
He continued.
"I didn't have your number."
"You have people."
May you like
"I do."
"Your people could probably find the phone number of a woman who sells handmade candles in a cabin in Alaska."
