CHAPTER NINE
Clint
She loves me.
For three hours, that’s the only thing that matters.
She loves me, and everything else just doesn’t make a damned bit of difference.
I really want to pay attention to my computer screen. I really want to be the kind of businessman who can completely compartmentalize things. It’s impossible. I end up spending the first hour trying to make real decisions before I finally accept I won’t accomplish anything complicated. So, I just look over financial reports from portfolio companies. For me, that’s as easy as reading a junior high textbook.
I look over six sets of financials and there are no big issues at all. In fact, there really aren’t any small issues. I go through the motions of sending a few follow-up questions and comments to my staff but that has a lot more to do with making sure the portfolio companies know we look at the numbers than because we need any real information. I guess it also lets my staff know I look at the reports even if I’m miles away.
“Daddy?”
I turn at the sound of Billie’s voice with a big smile on my face. The smile disappears when I see the expression on her face. She’s been crying. She looks devastated. “What’s wrong, princess?”
She’s holding an overnight envelope. “I got the paperwork,” she says. God, her tone makes me feel like I’m going to be sick. “I’ve been dreaming about this project for almost fifteen years. From when I first found a book about real estate when I was ten years old. I mean, not this particular project but a project like this.”
“What’s wrong, little girl?”
“And the whole point was that I could do it. I could make it happen. Even though I was a girl, I could make it happen.” I stare at her, completely unable to comprehend what’s going on and her eyes narrow from sadness to anger. “How could you?”
“What? How could I what?”
“How dare you?” she yells. “How dare you take my dream and make it into something else?” She shakes her head and says bitterly, “I really believed all your bullshit, too. I really believed you cared about me growing, me learning how to manage things, about me becoming a stronger person.” Her face wears an expression that makes me believe if she had a gun, she’d shoot me without any hesitation at all. “All I am is just another one of your fucking trophies.”
“Damn it, little girl,” I say as I stand up. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Fuck you!” she screams and throws the envelope at me. It hits me in the face and she storms out. I haven’t got the slightest idea what the hell she’s talking about. I almost run after her but instead, I reach down and open the envelope. I pull the paperwork out and glance through it. It takes me a while to see the problem.
Except she’s wrong.
She thinks I arranged the funding, and that I used my company to make this happen for her. She thinks it wasn’t her work but my money. One thing clear in our relationship from the outset was that my influence in her business is limited to advice when requested.
She thinks I just ignored that rule and did it.
And she’s gone ballistic instead of just talking to me about it.
I get my phone and type a message.
Why is your development company a corporation instead of an LLC?
She replies immediately.
How the hell can you ask me that right now?
I don’t respond. Instead, I put the paperwork back in the envelope. I go to the bathroom to wash my hands and see an ugly red spot where the envelope hit my cheek below my eye. I sigh and head back. She’s at the door. “You want to explain to me why the fuck you would ask that?”
“No,” I say as I walk right past her into the office. “I just want your answer.”
I don’t look at her but I think she’s going to explode. She screams, “Because I don’t want a pass-through entity when I plan for it to be enormous at some point!”
I still don’t turn around. “That’s why my company is a corporation, too,” I say.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she shouts.
“Nothing at all,” I reply. I point to the envelope. “Would you please take your package from West Funding, LLC, out of my office?”