The Request #2

“You know I don’t mind. In fact,” I clarify, “I like small, charming places. It’ll be a pleasure to stay there and discover what else the town has to offer.”

“We’ll see if you’re not too disappointed when it doesn’t live up to your expectations.” Now he kisses my cheek. “As soon as I have the reservation, I’ll send it your way too. One week?”

“I hope I won’t have to stay that long, but sounds good,” I nod and smile at him.

“One week with the possibility of extension,” he adds just like that as he’s already walking out the door, leaving me wondering just how attached the owner and his son are to their company.

The fact that my father thinks I’ll need more time to convince them to sell us the business is not a good sign, since he’s always been the embodiment of optimism.

Ten minutes later, the reports arrive and I read them carefully, trying to understand what went wrong and how we could fix it.

My job isn’t just to give them an offer and convince them to accept it; I also show them what the business will look like once we help them improve it.

That’s where my effectiveness lies. My colleagues talk about purchase figures; I talk about the sustainable future of their company.

When it comes to family businesses, it’s more feasible to grant them an active stake—even a small one—than to try to buy the company and leave them with nothing.

“Wow…”

I lean back in my chair after seeing how sales have been declining over the past years.

Despite being in a small, fairly isolated town, they managed to collaborate with major designers and rack up astronomical numbers, which is impressive.

However, seemingly overnight, the graphs started dropping and they’ve now had two years of substantial losses.

If things don’t change soon, they’ll have to close.

And that’s the reason my father has taken an interest in them.

I search for information about the town online and barely find a couple of news articles about it.

However, when it comes to Odell Textiles, the story changes considerably.

It was a benchmark in the eighties and I can’t understand how such a thriving business could collapse so suddenly.

There’s something I’m missing and I need to find out what it is so I can use it in the negotiations.

I’ve learned from experience that even the most insignificant detail can tip the scales one way or the other.

“Come in,” I say, opening the way for whoever is knocking on my door.

“I’m going out for lunch,” Rebecca announces, peeking in with her long blonde hair. “Want to join me?”

“What time is it?” I ask, looking at the wall clock. I’ve been so engrossed that the morning flew by. “So late already!”

“So, are you coming?”

“I’m not done yet,” I decline with a shake of my head. “I’ll go later.”

“I’ll bring you something when I’m back.”

She knows me well enough to know I’m not going.

When I dive into a new project, I always like to be thorough.

I admit it’s a problem because I forget about everything else, but I need to be prepared for any contingency that might arise.

Success isn’t achieved by adding more zeros to the offer, as some of my colleagues believe, but by giving them what they truly need.

“Thank you, Rebecca.” I smile and then add: “You can take the afternoon off. I won’t need you.”

“Thank you.” She returns the gesture before leaving.

When she comes back with my order, I decide to stop and eat. It doesn’t take me long because I’m intrigued by this business, so I continue working on the reports until I receive a call from my father.

“Twice in one day,” I tease. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“You’ll be away for a while,” he explains. “I thought it would be nice for you to come to the house, since you’re still around.”

“Sounds like you have little faith in me, Dad.”

I swivel my chair to take in the view from the large window in my office. The city lights are on, which tells me I’ve gotten absorbed in work again.

“I have little faith in them, more like,” he corrects me. “Mr. Odell is old school, sweetheart. He won’t be easy to convince.”

“You’re speaking from experience, obviously.” I smile, knowing I’m right. He’s thinking about how he would react if someone tried to buy his company.

“I wouldn’t like people coming in to tell me how to run my business,” he confirms.

“Well, when things aren’t working, it’s good to accept advice that helps you improve.”

“If only it were that simple.”

“Yes, that would make my job a lot easier.” I laugh.

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“I suppose you’re right,” I concede. A good challenge is irresistible.

“I’ll expect you at seven.” He ends the conversation just like that.

“I’ll be there.”

Sometimes I miss living with him, because I long for the deep conversations before bed with the advice and anecdotes he shares, or the dinners together.

But life is about moving forward. It’s my time to head in the direction I believe I should go, with my own victories and my defeats, and not to stagnate in the past, however cozy and sheltering it may seem.

It’s the same thing I try to show the owners of those companies we’ve been absorbing. Change doesn’t always have to be bad.