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Charlie looked to Todd, who nodded to him, and then Charlie took another deep breath before he continued. “You see, Taylor, Preston Corp. cannot continue on without money to fix errors in the way it has been run. We need money to fix buildings, and make updates, we need …”
“How much?” Taylor asked, rubbing her temples, trying to process all of this. To think that this morning she had been worried about whether or not she had brewed regular in the decaf coffee station. Damn, that stress was like heaven to what she felt right now. “How much do we need?”
“More than you have in your trusts,” Charlie said, answering both the spoken and unspoken questions.
It was worth a shot, Taylor mused to herself. “Okay, then, how much do we need?”
“Approximately 189 million dollars.”
Taylor gawked at him. “Oh my God.” That was insane. “How do we get that kind of money? Do we go to a bank? Or a lot of banks?” This was exactly why she did not belong running a company, Taylor thought, she had no idea how to handle something like this.
“No,” Charlie answered quickly, “word of this cannot get out. Going to banks will make the public lose confidence in Preston Corp. Public opinion is already dwindling, and if this gets out, it will make any confidence we still have disappear—and that would be near impossible to repair.”
Taylor nodded, taking it all in. That made sense, she couldn’t help people keep their jobs if no one would do business with the corporation, and business dealings would be gone if anyone found out they were broke. “Okay, so is there a plan?”
“Yes,” Charlie said softly, hesitantly. “There is a company who is willing to assist with financing.”
Taylor took a second to evaluate the two men before her. “Okay,” she said slowly, hesitantly. “Who?”
“Fletcher Enterprises.”
In the same second that Charlie answered, Todd knocked on a door in the back of the plane. She really had forgotten how big this freaking plane was. There was a whole suite behind them, and after the knock from Todd, it opened and out walked two men. Simon Fletcher and his son Derrick stood before Taylor now.
The thoughtOh God, noran laps around Taylor’s mind. She knew she was gawking, but she could not compose herself.
“Hello, Taylor,” Simon said, breaking the silence. He reached out a hand and touched her cheek. Taylor noticed he had a cane, and he was thinner than when she had seen him about seven years ago. “You look different,” he said, smiling, taking in her wild hair and glasses.
Taylor’s eyes cut between father and son, and her breath caught in her chest. She had not seen Derrick in just as long as his father, except for the times his gorgeous face graced magazine covers or tabloids left around the coffee shop. She and Derrick had been close once, and then, well, they just weren’t anymore.
“Hi, Tay,” Derrick said quietly, a small smile on his perfect lips. He stood behind his father and made no move to come closer. It both infuriated and relieved her.
Taylor took in a deep breath. She needed to keep a clear head. She had business to handle.
She looked up to Simon, “Hi, Simon,” she said, and the quake in her voice was repulsive to her own ears. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “So, your company is willing to help Preston Corp.?”
Simon’s eyes softened as they looked at Taylor. “Yes, yes we are, Taylor.”
Derrick leaned in and whispered to his father and then nodded to a chair. Simon nodded back and sat. It was weird; this was not how their interactions usually went, at least not what she remembered from their past. These two had always been as far apart as possible. Perhaps things had changed; Taylor wondered at the reason behind it.
Charlie interrupted Taylor’s assessment of the interaction. “Todd and I contacted Mr. Fletcher because we knew that the Preston and Fletcher families have always been so close and that they would understand,” he explained. “We have been in discussions on how we can keep Preston Corp. afloat until we start to turn a significant profit, make the necessary repairs, and reinstate a new board of trustees—”
“Hold on,” Taylor said, trying to keep her mind in the present. “This all went down in the last ten hours?”
“Uh no,” Charlie said, swallowing as he chose his next words, but Todd jumped in and answered for him. “There was an obvious decline in the functioning of the corporation under Cedric’s rule. So, no, discussions didn’t begin ten hours ago—planning started months ago.” That made more sense, but Taylor needed to digest this whole conversation later. For now, moving forward was the name of the game, “All right, go on,” she encouraged Charlie, keenly aware of everyone’s gaze on her, especially Derrick’s.
Charlie nodded and started to pace, his familiar meeting pace Taylor had seen dozens of times before when she had gone to meetings with father or grandfather. “Together, Taylor, Fletcher Enterprises, and we have come to see that saving Preston Corporation isn’t just about money. Even with money, once Cedric’s death comes out and you take over, stocks may still plummet.
“But, you see, Taylor,” Charlie continued, “it’s not just about how many businesses Preston Corp. has, it’s also about public perception. Preston Corp. has always been a family-run organization that represents the American dream and services all walks of life. Unfortunately, Cedric dragged that reputation through the mud, and we need to revive it, we need to restore faith, we need to show people that Preston Corp. has not turned into an industry that is turning out spoiled brats with endless spending accounts.”
Well, that was the shittiest motivational speech ever, Taylor decided.
“I don’t get it. I thought you said his buying made people more optimistic.”
“It did, but it’s not enough. Cedric hasn’t actually been seen in public or heard from in about a month. Prior to that, all his, um, handlings were performed via phone, email, or courier. Preston has always been a face-to-face, handshake organization, and that was what your grandfather wanted to perpetuate, even through the electronic age. People like to handle big business the old fashioned way with handshakes, with face to face interaction. The fact that no one has seen a Preston in a month does not present that character to anyone.”
Taylor nodded, Charlie was good at this, and he was selling her. And he was right—her grandfather had wanted it that way, and she would do anything for him “Okay, so what do we need to do?”
“We need to give the public, our supporters, what they want, Taylor,” Charlie’s enthusiasm spilled over. “In order to obtain new clients and more investors, we need to show them we at Preston Corp. still stand behind the same old traditions. We need to draw positive attention.”