Chapter 8 - Nine Million Dollars
Nina Ellis had a habit of taking off her glasses whenever somebody tried to rush her.
She was fifty-two, a trust attorney by training, and had served as the independent trustee for Wesley's inheritance since Thomas Mercer died.
She didn't owe Graham obedience.
She certainly didn't owe Marjorie any.
Which was why Marjorie had spent years describing her as difficult.
Nina considered that an endorsement.
"Let's talk about the numbers," she said.
Graham sat opposite her in the small conference room.
On the table lay Sycamore's $9.2 million offer.
Nina placed a second document beside it.
"This is a preliminary opinion from the appraisal firm I retained. It isn't the final report, but they're reviewing the updated road access."
Graham scanned the highlighted section.
"$17.4 million?"
"An initial valuation indication, subject to assumptions, permits, environmental liabilities, and final review."
He sat back.
"That's eight million more than Sycamore's offering."
"Roughly, yes. The buyer says it's assuming certain remediation obligations, so the difference isn't quite as simple as subtracting those two numbers."
"Still."
"Still," Nina agreed.
Graham rubbed his forehead.
"Why didn't my finance department bring me this information?"
"That's a question for your finance department."
"Mom says delay could push the company into default."
"The bank's letter doesn't say that."
She handed him another document.
Graham read carefully.
The company's revolving credit facility was scheduled for review in November. The bank had requested updated financial statements and a liquidity plan, not immediate repayment of every outstanding loan.
"It says we need a plan," Graham said.
"Yes."
"Not that we need to sell Ash Creek before Halloween."
"Correct."
He let out a slow breath.
Nina folded her hands.
"Graham, before we go any further, there's something else."
He looked up.
"I received an email yesterday from a family law firm claiming your recent conduct raised concerns about your fitness to participate in decisions affecting Wesley's trust."
Graham's stomach dropped.
"What conduct?"
"The altercation by the pool."
"Who contacted them?"
"The letter was submitted on behalf of someone described as a concerned family member."
"Mom."
Nina didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
"Can they remove me from the company?"
"Not because an anonymous letter says you had a bad afternoon. And your position as Wesley's father is separate from my duties as trustee. But allegations can create complications if somebody chooses to pursue them."
Graham stared out the window.
His mother had told him that everything she did was for the family.
Now she was apparently using his worst mistake as leverage.
Nina leaned forward.
"I'll ask you something, and I want a straight answer."
"Okay."
"Did you strike Travis Bennett?"
"Yes."
"Was he threatening Wesley?"
"No. He was rescuing him."
"Have you told the police that?"
"Not yet. They've asked to speak with me."
"Then I suggest you stop trying to work out how this makes you look and start telling people what actually happened."
Graham gave a short, exhausted laugh.
"You're beginning to sound like Travis."
"Good. He sounds sensible."
That afternoon, Graham confronted Victor Kline.
The CFO was sitting at his office desk, eating almonds from a glass bowl.
He offered Graham one.
Graham ignored it.
"Why did you tell me the bank was threatening immediate default?"
Victor frowned.
"I said the company's financial position was urgent."
"You said we'd be out of options by the end of October."
"That remains a legitimate concern."
"Based on what?"
Victor removed his glasses.
"Graham, are you questioning my financial judgment?"
"Yes."
The directness seemed to surprise him.
Graham laid the preliminary appraisal on the desk.
"Did you see the county road approval?"
"Of course."
"Then why did the valuation packet use the old access assumptions?"
"We believed the new corridor introduced additional uncertainties."
"Uncertainties that could nearly double the land value?"
"Potentially. But that isn't a guaranteed sale price."
"Neither is nine million."
Victor pursed his lips.
"You're being emotional."
Graham stood.
"Interesting. My mother said the same thing."
He turned toward the door.
Victor spoke.
"If you delay this transaction, there may be consequences you haven't considered."
Graham looked back.
"That sounds like a threat."
"It's a warning."
"Then put it in writing."
Victor said nothing.
Across town, Marjorie sat in a parked car outside a private bank.
She had just finished a call with her financial adviser.
A personal credit obligation was coming due.
The collateral pledged against it included investments she couldn't readily sell without taking a loss.
She needed cash.
Not company cash, at least not directly.
She needed her interest in Sycamore's acquisition structure to become valuable enough to satisfy the obligation.
The adviser had been blunt.
"Mrs. Mercer, we cannot extend this indefinitely."
Marjorie gripped the steering wheel.
She'd spent forty years refusing to be the woman who lost everything after her husband died.
She had survived business failures, bad partners, and men who dismissed her contributions while praising Thomas for the same decisions.
Now her own son was listening to the neighbor.
She called Victor.
"Tell me Graham hasn't discovered the consulting agreement."
A pause.
Then Victor answered.
"Not yet."
May you like
Marjorie closed her eyes.
"That's not nearly as comforting as you think."
