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Mr. Walsh’s face is strained, and I don’t blame him for feeling like he does. It’s not easy to give up something you’ve worked so hard on. I see it every time I make a deal like this when I buy out companies. I used to feel remorse, but as time went on and my empire grew, it grew harder to feel emotions. I’ve trained myself not to mix business and emotion. That’s why I’m one of the most successful billionaires on the East Coast.
I stand and hold my hand out to Mr. Walsh. He stares at my outstretched hand for a moment, and I wonder if he will refuse.But he gives in, standing from his seat and giving my hand a firm shake.
“You’re nothing if not persistent, Mr. Vallejo,” he says, and I swear a smile tugs at his lip.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I chuckle, releasing his hand.
Our lawyers stand from the table too, none of us wanting to be in each other’s presence any longer than needed. We’ve spent enough time together. I straighten the front of my suit as Elliott stacks the papers before handing them to me. I tuck them carefully in my briefcase and then suck in a quiet breath.
I know I’m about to walk out into a room of people who probably hate me, and have been keeping a watchful eye on me ever since I walked into the building this morning. It’s no surprise I’ve been trying to take over the paper. I know I’m not their first choice, but it’s business. They have to understand.
I don’t want to be the one to deliver the news. Mr. Walsh can do that, however he sees fit. I prefer to be gone before he does. I’m sure they’ll see the blood in the water as The Shark leaves the building. They don’t call me that for nothing. Today is proof of the reputation I have acquired.
Before I follow Elliott out of the room, I turn and look at Mr. Walsh who has sat back down. He seems older than when I had walked in this morning.
“What will you do now?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.
He waits a moment, looking thoughtful. “Probably retire, thanks to you. Maybe move closer to my grandkids,” he says, the tiniest sparkle in his eye of defeat.
“Good for you,” I say. “Family is important.”
He lets out a laugh through his nose as if I just delivered a punchline.
“Good day, gentlemen,” I say, slipping out the door and closing it behind me.
Elliott and I walk down the hallway to the elevator. I feel the eyes of the room on us, but I try not to give anything away. I walk expressionless into the elevator and it’s not until the doors close that I pat Elliott on the back.
“We finally did it,” I say through my sigh of relief.
“I told you it would happen.” He grins.
“I guess it’s hard to turn down a few million.” I shrug.
“How does it feel to be the new owner ofThe NY Daily News?”
“Fucking phenomenal.”
“Should we celebrate?” asks Elliott mischievously, checking his watch. It can’t be past noon. The offer to throw back a couple glasses of bourbon for lunch is appealing, so is the idea ofvisiting the coffee shop and convincing the redhead barista to take a long break.
“Soon,” I say, knowing both of those ideas will have to wait.
“Always on the grind,” says Elliott knowingly.
“Always.”
There is a lot of work to do. Acquiring a company is no easy feat. Figuring out what to do with it is an even harder one, though Mr. Walsh did have me jumping through hoops.
I head back to my office after saying goodbye to Elliott, and settle in at my desk with the freshly signed contracts. I set them in front of me as if they’re a trophy, and begin making a checklist of all the things I need to do now that the paper is mine.
I need to begin the process of moving the paper in a more virtual direction. Websites are easier and cheaper to run than publishing physical papers. It’s why my journalistic pursuits have been so successful. I cut the costs, but keep bringing news to the people in a way that’s with the times. Everything is on screens now. Computers. Phones. iPads. I hardly ever see anyone holding a paper in hand. Yet, I understand the appeal of it to those who want to hold on to that nostalgia. While I won’t get rid of newspapers completely, cutting back on printing is necessary to turn a worthwhile profit.
I also need to move the entire operation to this building, where my other journalistic endeavors are housed. It’s easier to haveeverything in one place for me to oversee things. Each paper has its own floor, keeping them separate, but close enough for me to run things all in one place. It’s a tricky thing running multiple rival newspapers, but I’ve found success in playing them against one another by finding their niche of loyal readers for each one.
I also need to begin layoffs. If I’m to make a profit from a failing newspaper, then downsizing is necessary. On my way back to my office, I called my assistant and had her contact human resources to obtain their employee documents. I need to see which ones are the best to keep on, and which ones are on the chopping block.
I don’t plan on being as harsh this time by completely obliterating the company’s infrastructure. Ever since I met that woman, Erica, at last year’s party, I can’t fight the little bit of guilt that’s been eating away at me. The way she spoke about the paper and the family-like environment of the office, I can’t find it in me to fire most everyone like I usually do. Still, decisions must be made.
I lean back in my chair as her face enters my mind, fresh as ever. It’s as if I met her yesterday, even though it’s been far longer than that. My memory is persistent in keeping her alive by popping in images of her green eyes every so often. I can’t seem to shake her, even though we only had that one night together. A night I sometimes dream about.