Page 86 of The List

“Have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly. Can I get either of you anything to drink?”

He and Hank declined, saying they would wait until dinner.

“It’s a lovely house,” he said.

“My home in Atlanta is mostly Italian. My office English. So I decided to make this place decidedly French.”

They chitchatted for a few minutes about nonsense. Finally, Bozin asked Hank, “How do you think the negotiations are going?”

“So far, so good.”

“What about after tomorrow? We’re going to change our offer from three to five years in the morning. The unions ready?”

“They don’t like it, but they’re expecting the shift. I already have my counteroffer ready. So do the other locals. It wasn’t easy. Everyone is greedy as hell, but everything so far is within the arranged deal.”

Bozin smiled. “Efficient as always, Hank. I knew you could pull it off. But it’s a good deal for the employees. Three percent on wages is generous, considering all the extras we provide. Our people have the best health care and retirement program around. Name one mill with anything better.”

“You’re preachin’ to the choir on that one,” Hank said. “I have no complaints.”

“We did the right thing, years ago, going self-insured. It’s allowed great flexibility in dealing with a changing marketplace. I don’t mind telling you it scared the hell out of me at first, but internalizing health care and retirement has proven a sound move. Which really paid off when the Affordable Care Act was passed. It didn’t take much to match our plan to its mandates. We are one of the few companies to do that successfully,” Bozin continued, pointing a finger, “without breaking the bank. I hope we can keep that up. Times are getting rough.”

The comment was strange, so Brent asked, “How so?”

“The domestic paper industry is not in one of its strongestcycles. Foreign competition is driving our prices below production costs. Most companies are expanding overseas, taking advantage of cheap labor, but we haven’t. Southern Republic has committed itself to being one hundred percent American. Perhaps a foolish decision, but our employees should certainly appreciate it.”

Brent couldn’t help but wonder if the information was true or just another ploy used in bargaining, perhaps like the dinner invitation itself.

“Thankfully, we’re sufficiently diversified into lumber and building products. As the price of paper plummets, selling building products can buoy our bottom line, and has for years now.”

The older man seemed genuinely pleased.

“Caution is the word,” Bozin said. “Hank, the deal you and Hamilton hammered out is a good one. It’ll allow us to keep moving forward. We’re talking about building a massive new plant to handle recycled paper, a $100 million investment, which will probably be located here in Woods County, or nearby. Think of the jobs.”

A steward appeared in the doorway and informed them dinner was ready.

“Shall we, gentlemen,” Bozin said, gesturing.

6:00P.M.

BRENT SAT AT THE TABLE.

Dinner was served in a formal dining room, opulent with a polished black marble floor and oversized gateleg table lined with eight high-backed upholstered chairs. A carved chest acted as a server, a seventeenth-century oil painting Bozin calledPortrait of a Young Girlhung above it. The main course was a bass fillet that their host explained came from the lake behind the house. A baked potato, corn soufflé, and citrus salad rounded out the meal. Everything was served on bone china that bore the gold-embossed Hickory Row emblem. Wine was offered but he and Hank both declined, having iced tea instead.

“Hank, exactly how long have you worked at the mill?” Bozin asked, while they ate.

“Thirty-seven years this October.”

“Have you liked it?”

“Southern Republic provides an excellent living.”

“Brent, your father worked at the mill, didn’t he?”

“Over forty years. Started with Republic Board. He helped build the plant, then was hired on as a machinist.”

“I never knew him, but there’ve been a lot of men like your father through our years in business. They’ve been good to us.”

They certainly have, Brent thought, looking around the room again.