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“We did,” I answered.
“Then go ahead and get more aggressive,” he said. “But you have to make your numbers.”
“Thanks, Syd,” I told him. “We’re moving on it. We have two candidates in mind already.”
We finished the call with the requisite goodbyes.
Josh shook his head. “Well, that was clear.”
“Crystal,” I concurred.
“Yeah, and those reminders about meeting the numbers, do you think that’s just a negotiating ploy?”
I shifted in my seat. “Possibly.” I didn’t tell him I was virtually certain that Syd would pull out if given the option.
Josh’s expression fell. “Sorry I got us into foods,” he said glumly.
“Don’t sweat it. We’re in this together. Let’s just fix it.”
He managed a weak smile.
I stretched my shoulders. “When’s the Tiffany’s meeting?”
“Two at their place. I can come along if you want. I’ll introduce you to Sam Tiffany.”
“No, I don’t need any help. Thanks.”
“Just saying, this is important and if you’re not feeling a hundred percent, I——”
I stood up. “I’ve got this.”
Taking my cue, he rose from his chair. “This should be easier than the Schmulian deal.”
He didn’t need to remind me that the biggest impediment to capturing the Schmulian business was the old man's feelings about my lifestyle.
“Blow me,” I said, giving him the evil eye.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, already. I get it. You can’t admit the chick has you off your game.”
“Fuck you, and go figure out some of that strategic marketing shit I pay you for.”
He was good at the marketing crap, I had to admit. He was also good at calling me on my bullshit, but I didn’t care for it right now.
Josh’s one-liner grin appeared, the one that usually preceded a good-natured poke at me. “Hope you can stay awake that long.” He shut the door on his way out.
What I needed to do was salvage the mess he’d gotten us into, and that was best done without him in the room.
He and Martin from finance had met with the Tiffany’s people before to get preliminary numbers from them. I’d instructed them to be clear about our intentions, but with Josh in the room, marketing-speak often bent the truth.
Martin had confided in me after the last meeting that the Tiffany’s people weren’t keen on selling, but had suggested we invest in their company for a partial ownership stake. Josh, of course, never wanted to shut down any line of inquiry and had told them we might be persuaded to consider it.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. So now it was my job to get the discussions back on track before it was too late. We didn’t take minority positions in other companies. That rule was inviolate.
With the Tiffany’s spreadsheets in front of me, I needed some lunch to counteract the caffeine jitters, but first I had another task.
I dialed Syd back.
“Have you given any more thought to the Chameleon deal?” I asked.
