Page 74 of Skins Game

Kingston warred between telling these guys the truth and desperately not wanting to let them down. “The business I bought for the bet is a dud. The owner didn’t disclose a lien on the business operations at acquisition. It’s farther in the hole than we thought, a lot farther. It’s worse than the Hospilala Pharmaceutics.”

Everyone winced. Their only saving grace for that bad apple was that they’d disposed of it immediately instead of wallowing in their bad investment, trying to turn it around.

“Morrissey reviewed the new information,” Kingston said. “He’ll discuss the legal aspects.”

Morrissey Sand, the quiet one of the group, the one most likely to give nonfiction books for Christmas presents, paused before he spoke. “Kingston did his due diligence. I looked it over. The previous owner committed fraud by not disclosing a lien on the business operations. We have a basis to sue him. If we do, I don’t think we’ll recover our costs if for no other reason than this guy, Joe Flanagan, is likely to declare bankruptcy by the end of the week. He is succumbing to a cocaine addiction.”

All of the guys shifted in their seats, uncomfortable. That kind of bad-faith negotiation is always a risk in business.

Kingston’s tone turned particularly dry. “We didn’t realize that his addiction was quite so advanced that he would lie about his business in a sale, probably to get more money for drugs. We should consider adding a tox screen to our standard acquisition procedure.”

There, it was out. Kingston had not deceived his friends.

“In the meantime,” Morrissey said, “I’ll be looking over what legal and accounting measures can be brought into play tomitigate the damage to Kingston’s wager. It doesn’t seem fair in the spirit of the wager that fraud should be a variable.”

Mitchell Saltonstall stared at his water glass like it might grow a snake head and bite him. “And do we expect Gabriel Fish to agree to such a change in the wager rules?”

“Of course not,” Morrissey said. “He’d be a fool if he did, but maybe we can use it as a negotiating position on other points.”

Ever the math guy, Jericho said to Kingston, “Well, you can always increase your total percentage profit by increasing your final net, even though you are not going to benefit as much from a lower denominator.”

Kingston nodded, even though that was impossible, too.

Morrissey tapped the papers in front of him, aligning the edges. “Okay, guys, good meeting.

The other two guys murmured encouragement before they left Kingston alone in the conference room to think over his strategy for Sidewinder Golf.

Well, there were a couple of ways to save Last Chance, Inc.

If they couldn’t win the bet and lost nearly half a billion dollars, they’d better make damn sure that Last Chance could absorb the loss and not go bankrupt.

If Sidewinder was a lost cause, Kingston should concentrate on Last Chance’s other assets.

Even as Kingston thought of it, he disregarded the idea.

Nothing was ever a lost cause.

There was always another day, another route, another fight to win the prize.

He had a month before returning to California for the strategy meeting before the first trade show, so he needed to hustle and make some money.

29

Gia Terranova

NICOLE LAMB

Monday morning, Nicole stood outside Gia Terranova’s office, waiting for Gia as she rolled in carrying two four-cup-holders stacked with venti-size lattes and a long, pink doughnut box perched on top.

“I need to talk to you right now,” Nicole said.

“No, you need to get my office door for me right now,” Gia said, the over-tall stack of breakfast swaying like she was spinning plates on sticks. “Damn, I hate performance review season when your direct reports get to review you, too. Gone are the days when managers terrorized everyone else with performance reviews. The whole world is turned on its head.”

Nicole took Gia’s badge off the top of the doughnut box and swiped her door.

The lock buzzed and turned green, and Nicole flattened herself out of the way.

Gia completed her circus act and set the coffees and doughnuts on her desk. “What is so all-fire important that it elicits this much emotion on a Monday morning?”