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The dining room door opened, and Miles stepped into the room. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Henry said, “I’ve just asked my son a question. I’m waiting for the answer.”
Doug hurried on. “You were back at home, I was out here, and I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you wanted this sale and I wanted you to enjoy your retirement, so I thought we’d just hang on. If I could keep this a secret from you, then I knew I could keep it a secret from Tartan, for several months at least.”
“Let’s go back to the other room,” Miles tried placatingly.
Henry stayed focused on Doug. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if the sale went through tonight and tomorrow Tartan discovered what was happening? And what about our shareholders?”
David knew for a fact that Randall Craig already knew some of what was going on in the factory and didn’t care. As for the shareholders…
Doug said, “The sale’s what I’ve been counting on. With the influx of cash we’ll be able to remedy all of our problems.”
“That’s right,” Miles soothed. “Don’t worry so much, Henry. Everyone’s nerves get frayed at the conclusion of a big deal like this. And we all appreciate that Knight International is your baby. It’s just eleventh-hour jitters.”
“He’s right, Dad, the sale has to go through. We’ve all worked so hard!”
Henry looked questioningly at David, but Henry wasn’t David’s client.
Miles, sensing Henry’s indecision, put a companionable hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Come, Henry, come back to the table. Once we get this over with, you’ll feel a lot better.”
Miles led Henry back to the dining room, where the Chinese bureaucrats looked unconcerned. Last-minute negotiations and delays were the norm. Miles, Doug, and his father resumed their seats. David remained standing, positioning himself so that he could see the whole table and not just the back of Miles’s and Randall’s heads.
“Is everything all right?” Randall asked.
Henry nodded.
“Good,” Randall said. “Miles, we’re all familiar with the terms of the sale, but maybe you should take us through them one more time.”
David watched Miles weigh the possibilities. If he’d so easily convinced Henry to come back to the table, then maybe Henry would sign right away. But one look at Henry made that seem a dicey proposition. He was slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the papers before him
. David caught an almost imperceptible nod as Miles made his decision. “The first three pages are mainly boilerplate,” Miles began, “so if you’ll all just turn to page four.”
Henry slowly reached out, picked up the papers, and flipped them over to the page Miles had ordered. The reading began. Several of the Chinese glanced at their watches. This was not part of tradition and very rude of their hosts to expect them to stand through this.
A half hour later, they came to the signature page. Randall picked up his pen and signed the original. Miss Quo picked it up and set it in front of Henry. He put the nib of his pen on the signature line, then just as easily lifted it. “I’m sorry, but I can’t sign.”
“Come on now, Henry,” Randall said pleasantly. “Sign and it will all be over.”
Henry pushed the contract away. “No.”
Murmurs rippled through the room as the Chinese who understood English translated this latest development to those who didn’t.
“If this is a last-minute plea for more money, I can tell you that you’re way off base,” Randall said.
But Henry just sat there.
“Look, Henry,” Randall said, “we all know that you love China and think her ways are great. But using Chinese delay tactics is going too far.”
Hearing this, a couple of the representatives from the Chinese ministries abruptly left the room. Sun and Amy Gao exchanged looks but kept their seats.
“It’s not that. I’m just not prepared to sign at this time.”
“Dad!”
“You can’t back out now, Henry,” Randall said.
“I just did.”
