Page 75 of Tell Me What you Think

Olga opens the folder she brought and hands out copies of a document to everyone in the room — a portfolio summary Nauta had provided back in October.

"Ribeiro, Baltar, Nogueira, and the two Setúbal accounts," Marina says in a tone that's almost frozen, which Olga is enjoying tremendously. "These five clients account for thirty-five percent of recurring revenue and are listed as stable contracts with no special conditions."

Roca puts on his glasses and skims the page.

"But that documentation was also missing the same appendixes Olga flagged in the last meeting — the ones that were sent to us afterward."

Roca shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Duarte straightens his tie.

"It was an oversight, an error in the documentation that we had no problem correcting as soon as it was flagged," Roca says, as though they should be thanking him.

"After reviewing those appendixes," Marina continues, looking straight at him as if she couldn't care less what he just said, "we found that these clients have volume discounts ranging from twelve to nineteen percent, two rates frozen for the next three years, and in the case of Baltar and Nogueira, a no-penalty exit clause if ownership of the company changes. You call it an error, but it's a very convenient one, because if we hadn't caught it, we would have paid a price for this portfolio that exceeds its actual value."

"That's operational documentation filed separately," Roca says calmly. "If there was a failure in how the files were transferred, we regret it and we own it, but no one here has hidden anything."

"A failure in how the files were transferred," Marina repeats. "There are one hundred and forty contracts, Mr. Roca, and the special conditions only appear in the five we weren't given from the start."

Through the screen, Olga watches Javier's lip twitch as he tries to hold back a satisfied smile.

"Those five contracts are a third of the revenue, so please explain to me the logic of that error, because I've been thinking about it for days and I can't find one."

The room goes quiet for a moment while Marina takes her time studying the faces around her — but especially Duarte's and Roca's. Duarte is red with embarrassment; Roca is probably red with rage, cornered with nowhere to go.

"We regret the oversight," Duarte says at last.

"I'm sure you do," the vice president replies.

"What are you proposing?" Roca asks, his voice slightly strained, as though sitting there watching a woman dismantle him is more than he can handle.

"We review the portfolio with the appendixes factored in, assess what those clauses actually mean, recalculate against real revenue, and adjust the purchase price downward," the vice president replies, "with a portion deferred and contingent on those five clients staying with us eighteen months from now. If they're as loyal as you told us when we started this negotiation, that shouldn't worry you."

"The level of distrust here seems excessive," Roca says.

"The distrust was created by you when you tried to withhold information. This is our offer, as it stands now. If there's nothing else to add, we can call the meeting closed."

Marina glances toward the screen to see if Javier wants to add anything, but he shakes his head, leaning comfortably back in his chair, enjoying the show.

The two women leave the building five minutes later, and when they step out onto the street and the Nauta door closes behind them, Olga turns to Marina with an enormous grin.

"God, that was so satisfying," she says in a burst of honesty. "It's a shame I couldn't laugh in there. Did you see Roca's face? It kept shifting the whole time you were talking. And Javier — he was holding it together by a thread the entire meeting."

"Glad we could entertain you both so much," Marina says, letting her lips curve just a little.

They have lunch at the same restaurant as last time, and when they leave, they wander through the city without any rush — stopping at shop windows, taking photos of the views, talking nonstop. They end up at a lookout point, have dinner at a restaurant that looks like someone's house from the outside, and make their way back to the hotel exhausted. They pass Olga's room and exchange a knowing look as they keep walking to Marina's, where the vice president drops her bag and kicks off her shoes before even taking off her coat.

"Tired?" Olga asks.

Marina hangs her coat on a hook and sits on the edge of the bed, then lets herself fall back to test the mattress.

"Depends on what for."

Olga laughs softly through her nose and lies down beside her. Marina turns her head to look at her and finds those green eyes fixed right on her.

"Any suggestions?" she asks, just as Olga's hand slides to the back of her neck.

"I have a couple of ideas," she says, and kisses her.

Chapter 29