“Then why keep the percentage?” I ask, not liking the unusual set-up. “Brandon?”
“They’re betting on themselves, sir. They’re basically so sure that their patents are going to corner the market that they’re making sales projections based on profits higher than what we’re using for our more conservative figures. If it does sell at the level they think, then they’ll come out ahead while we don’t take over the company.”
They’re betting on themselves. On the surface, it shows a lot of confidence, or just some big brass balls. Honestly, I can appreciate both in a business owner.
Still, as I look over the report, something seems . . . off.
Mark and Brandon are saying all the right things, and the numbers look great, but there’s something in my gut that’s bothering me. I’m not one to listen to nondescript vibes. I like data and information, but no matter how much I try to use concrete intel, this feeling won’t go away.
Mark looks over his shoulder at Ricky and Billy, who are sitting off to the side, both staring at their phones and ignoring us. More than likely, Ricky’s reading an article on volleyball training while Billy . . . I may not want to know.
But Mark’s look hooks in my brain. He seems . . . nervous? Maybe that’s what’s giving me pause. Ricky and Billy are certainly intimidating, but why would Mark look at them that way when they’re not doing anything?
I clear my throat, and like the pros they are, Ricky and Billy look up in unison at the subtle cue. Billy flexes his biceps, and for a moment, I’m thankful for his extra reps at the gym, even if it’s probably the lowest form of intimidation in the world.
Sure, before, I was pissed when he showed off to Tiffany. But what pisses you off one day is an invaluable tool the next. It’s all in how you use it.
Meanwhile, Ricky gives a cold, dead eye stare to Mark, then lets his eyes cut to Brandon and Shaun.
Tension shoots through the three men, Mark and Brandon in particular, which I find interesting. Shaun’s younger than the other two, but even he’s looking around like ‘what’s happening?’
I need to know what the hell’s going on. Now. And definitely before this deal goes any further.
“Okay, gentlemen, keep me up to date,” I tell them. “Mark, what’s the timeline from their office on getting this signed?”
“Ah, the sooner the better, sir,” Mark says. “I mean, all the numbers line up. You can do it now and really get a foot up.”
“Perhaps, but I do want to read all the boilerplate over personally,” I tell them. “I know Legal’s been through it, but I like to have a hand in every honey pot. Always have and always will.”
Mark’s jaw tightens almost imperceptively, but I see it. My instincts are right, putting me on the the right track. Now, I need to find the issue and fix it.
“Also, double-check those sales projections. I want to know who’s off, them or us.”
“Will do,” Mark says, standing up. They leave, Mark and Brandon nearly fleeing my office while Shaun looks nervous as he walks out. After they leave, I look to Billy and Ricky, who sets his phone aside, and I see that he was faking it the whole time. He was paying attention.
Of course he was.
“That was weird, right?” Ricky says. “Seriously, they were like cats in a room full of dogs.”
Billy nods. “Looked like they were going to piss themselves, and I was just finishing up the next level on my sudoku game.”
I shake my head, tapping my finger on the contract. “I don’t like it. Something’s up with them. Or the contract. Or the company.”
Ricky sits forward, instantly alert. “What do you want us to do?”
Billy’s right there with him, his elbows on his knees. “We’re on it.”
People underestimate Ricky and Billy, thinking them nothing more than big buffoons I hired because of nepotism. But as they showed with their knowledge of Tiffany, they’re capable and insightful and use people’s perceptions of them to their benefit.
They don’t simply follow me around in case some would-be attacker jumps out of the bushes. Or do runs to the corner store to get my groceries. Not errand boys, not bodyguards, they’re friends, confidants, and a key to my business success.
“Something’s been bothering me about this deal, but I don’t know what it is,” I tell them. “I’ve been over the contract and data dozens of times, and it should be a slam dunk, even with this patent percentage change, but my gut is saying no.” That perks them up because as much as I trust them, they trust my instincts too. “Do some digging into the company, especially ownership. Be discreet. And . . . find out what you can about Mark and Brandon. Just to be sure. I don’t like how squirrely they were being.”