Chương 3
But the voting shares were his.
He could transfer them.
He intended to do so before the aircraft unveiling.
“Why?” Claire asked.
“Because I chose Nathan for the wrong reasons.”
The answer irritated her.
“Try again.”
Richard looked surprised.
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It sounded like something you planned to say after discussing liability with counsel.”
Richard leaned back.
“You haven’t changed.”
“I have. I’m less patient.”
“You were never patient.”
“That’s possible.”
A few seconds passed.
Then Richard said, “I thought he was hungry enough.”
Claire understood.
Sterling Aviation had been built by hunger.
Richard’s father repaired agricultural aircraft in Kansas. Richard had turned a regional maintenance operation into a manufacturer, then a charter network, then a global private-aviation company whose customers included people who had stopped asking how much things cost before Claire finished college.
Richard admired hunger because hunger had made him rich.
He had mistaken Nathan’s hunger for the same thing.
“What did you think I was?” Claire asked.
“Difficult.”
She almost smiled.
“That is more believable.”
“Competent.”
“Less flattering than difficult.”
“Independent.”
That one landed.
Claire looked away.
Richard continued.
“I thought independence was useful in staff roles. I didn’t understand that it was what leadership required until I watched everyone around Nathan become dependent on his approval.”
“You were around Nathan.”
“Yes.”
“Were you dependent on his approval?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you stop him?”
Richard did not answer.
That silence stayed with her for nine days.
At seven the morning after the unveiling, Claire entered Richard’s hotel suite wearing a navy suit, low black heels, and no sapphire.
Richard noticed immediately.
“You left it behind.”
“It’s in my room.”
“You should wear it.”
“I’m not a mascot.”
“It isn’t a mascot.”
“Then it can survive a day in a box.”
Richard stood near a breakfast table covered with food neither of them appeared interested in eating.
He had changed into a charcoal suit. No tie.
The mark on his hand from striking Nathan was gone.
Claire glanced at it anyway.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
Richard followed her gaze.
“He humiliated you.”
“You think that was about me?”
“He ordered security to remove the controlling shareholder from my event.”
“He didn’t know.”
“He should have.”
“That sentence is nonsense.”
Richard poured coffee.
Claire took the cup this time.
“You turned a governance crisis into a bar fight.”
“I slapped one man.”
“In front of three hundred people and at least twenty cameras.”
“Twenty-seven, according to communications.”
“That doesn’t help.”
Richard’s mouth tightened.
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“With me or Nathan?”
“At the moment? Efficiently, both.”
He gestured toward a chair.
Claire sat.
Richard remained standing until she looked at him.
Then he sat too.
“Where is Nathan?” she asked.
“His lawyer advised him not to come to the office.”
“Good lawyer.”
“I suspended his access last night.”
“You had authority until midnight.”
“And after midnight, you do.”
Claire drank coffee.
“What did the board do?”
“Emergency call at two.”
“Without me?”
“You were invited.”
“I was in a hotel elevator at two.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“I had owned the voting shares for two hours.”
“Welcome to governance.”
Claire stared at him.
Richard looked almost pleased with himself.
It made her want to throw the coffee.
Instead she said, “What did they decide?”
“Administrative leave for Nathan pending review. Preservation notices. Outside counsel is coordinating with the auditors.”
“And the lenders?”
Richard’s face changed slightly.
There it was.
The reason for the seven o’clock meeting.
“What?”
“Two journalists contacted First Continental overnight.”
Claire put the cup down.
First Continental led Sterling’s revolving credit facility.
“How?”
“The photograph brought attention.”
“The photograph of you hitting your executive?”
“Yes.”
“And somehow this is surprising?”
“No.”
“Richard.”
“The lenders have requested an update by five this afternoon.”
“On the audit?”
“On everything.”
Claire leaned back.
Outside the suite windows, morning traffic moved along the airport access road.
“Do they have the right?”
“They have enough rights that arguing about which one applies would be an expensive way to spend today.”
“What happens if they freeze the revolver?”
“We have cash.”
“How much?”
Richard hesitated.
Claire stood.
“How much?”
“Enough for normal operations.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Claire.”
She picked up her bag.
“If you transferred control of a company to me without telling me its actual liquidity position, I am going downstairs, getting my clothes, and calling every lawyer whose card I received yesterday.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“You accepted.”
“Based on representations from your counsel.”
“The representations were accurate.”
“Then give me the number.”
He looked at her for several seconds.
“Thirty-one days.”
She stopped.
“How many?”
“Thirty-one days of unrestricted operating cash if the revolver becomes unavailable and customer receipts stay within forecast.”
Claire sat again.
Very slowly.
Sterling Aviation employed more than two thousand people directly and supported several thousand jobs through suppliers, maintenance partners, charter operations, and service centers.
Thirty-one days was not bankruptcy.
It was not even necessarily crisis.
But it was close enough to crisis that no responsible person heard the number without recalculating the room.
“What does Nathan know?” she asked.
“All of it.”
“Who else?”
“CFO. Treasury. Some of the board.”
“Some?”
“Claire—”
“No. We’re done with ‘some.’ Names.”
Richard gave them to her.
She wrote them down.
“Who does not know?”
“The broader executive team.”
“Employees?”
“No.”
“Suppliers?”
“No.”
“Victoria?”
Richard frowned.
“Why would Victoria know?”
“I’m asking.”
“I doubt it.”
Claire tapped her pen against the page.
Richard watched.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I made a threat in front of three hundred people without understanding the company’s cash position.”
“You made a statement.”
“I said I would decide who still works here.”
“You will.”
“I sounded like him.”
Richard said nothing.
Claire hated him slightly for allowing her to hear the thought after she spoke it.
At eight-thirty, the Sterling Aviation headquarters lobby smelled faintly of flowers and floor polish.
May you like
Claire had forgotten the flowers.
Someone changed the arrangements every Monday. Nathan once complained during an executive meeting that they looked cheap. After that, the company paid almost twice as much for them, and nobody ever admitted who approved the increase.
