Grumpy Boss by Hamel, B. (best non fiction books to read TXT) 📗
Book online «Grumpy Boss by Hamel, B. (best non fiction books to read TXT) 📗». Author Hamel, B.
“But I’m guessing there are strings,” Rees said, his voice deadpan.
“Ah, come on,” Alfie said, laughing. “Strings, not really strings, more like, you know, a suggestion. Like a hint, you know?”
“Get to the point,” Rees said.
“Yeah, alright, alright, so here’s the thing. I invest my five million in your SPAC, and I want you to convince Fluke to do a deal with me. I just want to buy some bonds from her company, that’s all above-board. My bosses will flip shit if I can get old Lady Fluke to sell me some debt, you know?”
I frowned a little bit. I’d heard the name Lady Fluke before, but I couldn’t quite place it. Some part of my brain rang with alarm.
“No deal,” Rees said, shaking his head. “That’s absurd.”
“Come on, I know you know Fluke,” Alfie said.
Rees went to stand, but I reached out and touched his arm, making him hesitate. I wanted to know what was going on, and I didn’t want him to pass up on an easy fie million, not after I’d just potentially cost him more. I didn’t entirely blame myself—I mean, it wasn’t my fault Mirko was a scumbag—but I could’ve stayed behind at the hotel room and everything might’ve been fine. I owed it to him to try and hear Alfie out, at least.
“Who is Lady Fluke?” I asked.
“Lady Fluke is the owner of the Fluke Biscuit Company,” Rees said. “It’s the oldest and most prestigious British cookie company in the world.”
I laughed a little bit, but neither of the men seemed to think it was funny. Alfie had a serious expression, leaning forward on his elbows, almost pleading, and Reed looked a little pale.
“You’re joking?” I asked. “Cookies? Why do you want to buy bonds from a cookie company?”
“These aren’t just cookies,” Alfie said. “No way, no ma’am, they’re like mouth gold, edible bullion. Fluke’s company’s been profitable for the last two hundred years, and there’s never been an American bank that’s gotten a piece of them. She’s a real fucking nationalist.”
“It’s not realistic,” Rees said. “Fluke’s not even in America. She’s based in the UK and rarely leaves.”
“How do you now her?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“We met at a conference in London when I was young and getting started. I helped her company with their cloud services and hosted their website, and we sort of struck up a friendship.” He shook his head, glaring at Alfie. “A real friendship, one I’m not going to use for you.”
“Ah, come on,” Alfie said. “Look, Fluke’s in the US right now, doing some tour of a Nabisco plant. I think she wants to buy it, expand into the North American market some more, you know what I mean? Canadians love that shit? Anyway, she’s here, and since your’ besties…” He trailed off, holding his hands out, palm up.
Rees grimaced, looking uncomfortable. I didn’t know how he had a relationship with a British cookie heiress, but I got the sense that he genuinely liked her—or at least valued her friendship. Alfie, for his part, was a sleaze, but an honest one.
“She should’ve told me she was in the states,” Rees said, sounding slightly hurt, which surprised me.
“I’m sure she’s gonna. Come on, talk to her, get her to sell me some bonds. Doesn’t have to be a lot, just some. And I’ll give you five million.” Alfie was sweating, and I got the feeling he was desperate to make this happen. I could only imagine the sort of pressure men like him felt, working for massive multi-national banking conglomerates.
“I can’t convince her of anything,” Rees said. “Lady Fluke does whatever she wants.”
“Then talk to her at least. Here, I’ll write a check, right now. You can cash it tonight, and I’ll be invested, but please, promise me you’ll at least try. That’s all I’m asking. You can fuck me, if you want, but please take me out to dinner first.” He grinned stupidly, almost pathetically, and I felt bad for him suddenly.
“It can’t hurt,” I said, looking at Rees. “Maybe she’ll wat to invest too.”
He grimaced even more, like I’d stomped my heel down into his thigh. He was silent for a long moment, staring at the table, then at his hands, and finally he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a slow breath.
“Fine,” he said. “Write the check and I’ll try.”
“Perfect,” Alfie said, perking up instantly. He pulled a checkbook from his jacket pocket, like he was prepared for this exact moment. “Some bonds, not many, doesn’t have to be a lot, just some, just to get a foot in the door. You’re saving my life, Rees, I mean it, you literally are saving my fucking life.”
“Write the check,” Rees said again, rubbing his eyes.
Alfie wrote the check, ripped it out, and shoved it at Rees. He jumped to his feet and shuffling sideways, waving his hands as he went.
“You won’t regret it, really, it’ll be great, Goldman will be so happy, so happy, just thrilled, okay, thanks Rees, and Millie nice to meet you, okay.” Alfie got the hell out of there, practically running to the door.
I looked at Rees and shook my head, sort of mystified about what just happened, but elated as well. We turned what looked like a losing trip into something, pulled five million out of thin air.
Rees started at the check, and his face remained pale.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Lady Fluke hates me,” he said, slowly looking up at me, his face twisting into a confused smile. “Giana’s husband? That Italian parliament guy? He’s Lady Fluke’s second cousin.”
I covered my mouth and laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Rees grinned too and put the check into his pocket. What a stupid, absurd twist of fate. “Alfie doesn’t know?” I managed to ask.
“No,” he said. “Clearly not. It’s not
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