Chapter 12 - A Buyer Wanted The Company Without The Carters
We received three expressions of interest.
Two were garbage.
One was real.
Hollis Workplace Systems, a regional competitor we'd fought over contracts for years, wanted our customer book, selected equipment, warehouse lease rights and a portion of the workforce.
Forty-eight possible jobs.
Not seventy-four.
Dad hated them.
That was not a financial argument.
Their CEO, Karen Hollis, came to the plant herself.
She walked the shop with me.
Asked intelligent questions.
She knew machines.
That irritated me because I wanted her to be a spreadsheet vulture.
She stopped near the finishing line.
“How many can run this?”
“Six fully trained.”
“How many would you lose if we moved production?”
“Probably four immediately.”
“So keep it here.”
I stared.
“You'd lease this plant?”
“If numbers work.”
That surprised me.
Then she said:
“One condition.”
Of course.
“What?”
“No Carter family control.”
I laughed.
“You really came in person for that?”
“I came because you're good at operations.”
I stared.
She continued.
“Hollis would offer you plant director.”
“What about Dad?”
“No.”
“Mom?”
“No governance role.”
“Rachel?”
Karen looked at the conference room where Rachel was working with Elaine.
“If she clears diligence and wants a finance role, we'd consider her. Not my decision today.”
I appreciated that.
No instant redemption job.
“What about employees not rehired?”
“We contribute to a transition fund as part of the asset purchase if the deal closes.”
“How much?”
She gave a number.
Not enough.
Something.
I asked:
“Why me?”
“You've run this floor for nine years.”
“My father ran the company.”
“Exactly.”
I wasn't sure whether she'd insulted me.
Then she said:
“You also told your employees last week you didn't know when they'd be paid.”
“How do you know?”
“People talk.”
I felt exposed.
She continued.
“You could have told them Monday. You didn't.”
“Low bar.”
“Distressed acquisitions have lower bars.”
At least she was honest.
That evening, I told Claire.
She was sitting on our back steps.
“You'd work for Hollis.”
“Yes.”
“The company you and your father call ‘the funeral home’?”
“That nickname may have aged poorly.”
She smiled.
Then:
“Do you want it?”
“I don't know.”
“Because?”
“If I stay, maybe people think I helped sell Carter so I could keep my job.”
“People will think that.”
“Helpful.”
“You asked.”
“I didn't.”
“Your face did.”
I sat beside her.
“If I leave, forty-eight people don't suddenly lose their offer.”
“No.”
“But Karen said part of the deal assumes I stay through transition.”
“Then you're useful.”
I looked at her.
Claire caught it.
“Bad word?”
“Complicated.”
She nodded.
“Do you want to stay because the work matters or because being needed makes leaving impossible?”
I hated the question immediately.
“Can it be both?”
“Yes.”
That was worse.
I told Dad the next morning.
He stared at the preliminary offer.
Then at me.
“You're going to work for her.”
“I haven't decided.”
“She wants our company.”
“She wants assets.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You've learned that word.”
“Apparently.”
Dad walked toward the office window.
“Hollis has been trying to undercut us for fifteen years.”
“And now they're solvent.”
He turned sharply.
“That what you think of me?”
“No.”
“What do you think?”
I took my time.
“I think you saved Carter six times.”
His expression shifted.
Then:
“And the seventh?”
“You ran out of things that belonged to you to risk.”
He stared.
That hurt him.
I did not take it back.
He asked:
“Would you accept their job?”
“I might.”
“And the Carter name?”
I looked at the sign above the shop floor.
Blue letters.
CARTER COMMERCIAL FIXTURES.
I had spent half my life beneath it.
“I don't know.”
Dad laughed softly.
“Your grandfather started this with four men.”
“I know.”
“And you're going to hand it to Karen Hollis.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You handed it to Monarch, Merrick and every next project we hadn't earned yet.”
His face went white.
That was cruel.
May you like
Also true.
I hated both facts.
