by Amy Brent
As I scanned over the costs associated with the expansion once more (I am a notorious triple-checker), my mind kept going back to the red flags I’d spotted on the older profit & loss reports the first time I’d reviewed them.
Part of the reason Anderson Telecommunications didn’t meet market estimates for revenue during those years was attributed to the cost of replacing older networks in the more rural areas the company served.
If the numbers I saw were indeed correct, and Anderson lost money during those periods, the balance sheet that they were presenting today would be inaccurate.
In fact, it could have been off by as much as a hundred million dollars. And if that was truly the case, the stock that Tanner would pay $31 per share for was worth more like $10 a share. If the SEC, the government, or a vested third party ever audited the older books, the discrepancies would come to light and Wright Enterprises’ stock could drop like a hot rock.
I pulled up the old P&Ls again, the ones that Henry Costas said were incorrect. I chewed on my thumbnail and went through the numbers again and got the same result.
The difference between what Anderson’s current balance sheet showed, and what the historical P&L’s showed, was too wide a gap to be missed by Tanner’s in-house people. Surely, they went back to investigate it.
Maybe that’s when the P&L’s were updated and I just didn’t get a new copy.
Either the numbers were wrong to begin with and were corrected after the mistake was found; or the numbers were correct in the first place and adjusted to show otherwise.
One, was incompetency.
Two, was highly illegal.
I stared at the screen for a moment, then a thought hit me. I picked up my phone and found the contact information for Ruth Bennett, my personal financial advisor. I didn’t have much money for Ruth to manage yet, but she knew I would someday, with any luck. It was the Sunday afternoon, so I called Ruth’s home number.
“Well hi, Candice,” Ruth said happily. When you manage other people’s money, you’re always happy for some reason. Even when they call you on a Sunday. “What can I do for you?”
“Hey Ruth, I just had a quick question about the stock of a company I’m consulting with. I apologize for calling you on the weekend, but I just needed to pick your brain if you have a moment.”
“Sure,” Ruth said. “What’s the company?”
“There are actually two companies,” I said. “Wright Enterprises and Anderson Telecommunications.”
Ruth put me on speakerphone. I could hear her typing. “Okay, Wright stock closed at $97 per share on Friday. The stock is trending up on the news that Wright is acquiring, ah, Anderson Telecommunications.”
“And what about Anderson’s stock?” I asked. “I assume its ticking up in anticipation of the takeover.”
She tapped on the computer keys. “It was up 2% of Friday at $29 per share. It looks like Wright is offering $31 a share, so the Anderson stock holders must be thrilled.”
“I’m sure they are,” I said, resting my chin on my hand as I stared at the numbers on my screen. “Ruth, what would happen if Wright acquired Anderson, then some issue came to light that showed Anderson’s stock was not worth what Tanner, I mean, Wright, paid for it?”
Ruth took me off speaker phone. Her voice was clear when she asked, “Why would you ask that question, Candice? Is Goldman consulting with Wright on the acquisition?”
“I really can’t say anything more,” I said. “Just tell me, what would be the repercussions if something like that happened?”
She sighed in my ear. “Well, if it comes to light that Wright overpaid for Anderson, both company stocks will plummet. The SEC and the state attorney general would launch an investigation and if anyone is found guilty of cooking the books or doing anything to falsely inflate the stock price, well, people could go to jail. At the very least, the fines could run into the hundreds of millions of dollars.”
I felt the breath catch in my throat.
“Candice? Are you there?”
“Yes, sorry. Um, one last question. And this is completely hypothetical. Why would someone do that? Cook the books to inflate a stock price before an acquisition?”
“There are a variety of reasons why someone might do that,” she said with an edge to her voice. “All highly illegal.”
“Like?”
“Like trying to make the deal look better than it really is. Or trying to make the company appear more sound than it really is. The best reason I can think of is if they were propping the company up so they could later knock it down. They would short both company stocks and when the stocks collapsed, they would make a fortune in the bargain.”
I chewed at my bottom lip. “Forgive my ignorance, Ruth, but can you explain to me what you mean by ‘short both company stocks’?”
“Basically, shorting a stock means that you are betting against the stock price going higher. You’re betting that it’s going to go lower in the future. You buy options called ‘puts’ that give you the right to purchase shares of stock at one price and sell it when the stock reaches a strike point. If you are shorting a stock, you option the stock when it’s at the higher price, and when the stock drops, you sell back the option and your profit is the difference.”
“So, if someone shorted Wright’s stock at $97 per share, with a strike price of say $57…”
“They would see a profit of $40 per share.” Ruth was quiet for a moment. “Candice, is there something going on that you’re not telling me?”
“No, Ruth, of course not,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing. “I’m just on the team doing due diligence for the acquisition and I have to look at every angle. That’s all. Just running hypotheticals through my head.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, dear,” she said with a sigh. I could tell by her tone that she was concerned that I was into something I shouldn’t be. She drove the point home by adding, “Because anyone involved in that kind of collusion and stock manipulation could go to jail.”
“Thanks, Ruth,” I said. “That’s good to know.”
Candice
I spent the rest of Sunday finalizing my report for Monday’s wrap-up meeting with Stan and the rest of the Goldman team. The discrepancies in the old P&Ls kept nagging at my brain, but I managed to brush them aside long enough to finish the report.
The report was all sunshine and unicorns.
There was nothing there that would cause an issue with the acquisition going forward.
The red flags had been lowered, now it was full speed ahead.
I patted myself on the back for a job well done.
The one thing I couldn’t brush aside was the fact that I missed Tanner terribly. I was amazed at how close I felt to him after our brief time in Tucson. I’m not saying that I’m in love, mind you. I’m just saying that he was constantly on my mind. I hoped that I was on his mind, too.
We didn’t talk at all over the weekend, but I knew he was super busy in Atlanta. And the undefined status of our relationship prevented me from calling him every two minutes like I was dying to do. I didn’t want to frighten him away, but I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t want to hear from him either.
It was the age-old single girl dilemma.
Do I call him or wait until he calls me?
But what if he doesn’t call me?
What do I do, oh dating gods?
What do I do?
I decided that it was within modern dating etiquette to send a few short texts, adequately spaced out over the weekend so I wouldn’t sound too needy.
His responses were short and to the point.
Super busy.
In meetings.
With Henry.
Getting lap dance from stripper …
Getting blowjob in limo …
Okay, I made those last two up, but sometimes that’s where my jealous imagination ventured. I forced those thoughts out of my head and focused on work.
Tanner would call soon. I just knew
it.
I’d hear his voice and know everything was all right.
I went to bed around midnight on Sunday with all my work done. The wrap-up meeting with the Goldman team was at ten the next morning.
I was going to knock their socks off.
I dropped my purse and briefcase behind my desk, then pried the lid off the cup of black coffee from the shop downstairs and fired up my computer.
Immediately, a message from Stan popped onto the screen.
Please come to my office as soon as you arrive. Stan.
I sipped the hot coffee and stared at the message for a moment. It wasn’t unusual to have inner-office messages waiting for me when I arrived, but this one popped up even before I was logged into the company network.
I slowly lowered the cup to the desk and clicked the login button on the screen. My fingers trembled as I typed in my user name and password and hit Enter.
I swallowed the lump that was in my throat as I read the words that flashed back at me from the screen.
Account Restricted. Contact System Administrator.
“What the fuck…” I typed in my user name and password again, pounding my fingers against the keys as if I thought that would do the trick. It was like hitting an elevator button over and over thinking it would get the elevator there faster.
I held my breath and hit Enter.
Account Restricted. Contact System Administrator.
I slowly withdrew my hands from the keyboard.
My fingers curled into my palms.
My heart began to race.
I struggled to keep the tears from welling in my eyes.
I knew exactly what was happening.
My god, how could I have been such a fool.
When I got to Stan’s office, his secretary escorted me to a conference room. She ushered me in and closed the door.
Stan was sitting at the conference table with his hands folded neatly in front of him. He had a nervous look on his face. He motioned for me to sit across from the table from him.
There was a sour-looking older lady sitting next to Stan.
Next to her was serious-looking man with salt and pepper hair and a Brooks Brothers suit.
I pegged them immediately.
She was from human resources and he was from legal.
They were all there to fuck me. And not in a good way.
Stan introduced them as if we were meeting at a cocktail party. “Candice, this is Mrs. Nelson from Human Resources and Mr. Griffin from our legal department. They both looked at me without saying a word.
“What’s up, Stan?” I asked, forcing a smile that didn’t want to be there. Stan cleared his throat and clenched his hands together until the knuckles turned white.
“Candice, it’s come to our attention that during your trip to Tucson you engaged in certain activities that… well… quite frankly, are not acceptable as proper conduct for a Goldman & Stern employee.”
There it was.
I had literally fucked my way out of a job.
I tried to hold the smile, but it was no use. It melted from my lips like a snowman on a hot day. I did the only thing I knew to do. I played dumb.
I said, “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
The lawyer chimed in. His tone was brisk, like a prosecutor questioning a witness. “Miss Carlson, while you were in Tucson did you engage in sexual relations with Tanner Wright, CEO of Wright Enterprises?”
I suddenly knew how Bill Clinton felt when he was caught banging Monica Lewinski in the oval office.
I did not have relations with that woman, Miss Lewinski…
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand why that’s anyone’s business…”
“It’s a simple question, Miss Carlson,” the lawyer said with a dismissive shrug. “Did you or did you not have sexual relations with Tanner Wright, CEO of Wright Enterprises and a client of Goldman & Stern, while you were in Tucson. Just answer yes or no.”
I blinked at the woman from HR. She was looking at me like she’d caught me banging her husband in her bed. It was a look of disgust and disbelief.
I leaned in to her and said, “Do I have to answer these questions? Don’t I have rights under the EEOC or something?”
“I’m afraid the Equal Employment Opportunity rules are not pertinent in this situation, Miss Carlson,” she said, looking down her nose in judgment at me. “Just answer Mr. Griffin’s question, please.”
I glanced at Stan. He was studying his hands on the table. He wouldn’t look up at me. I set my jaw and looked directly at the lawyer.
I said, “Yes, while I was in Tucson I was involved in a personal relationship with Tanner Wright.”
The lawyer’s eyes went around my face. I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. This was kind of turning him on a little. Douchebag.
He said, “You were involved in a sexual relationship.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what, Miss Carlson?”
I took a deep breath as my career vanished before my eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Griffin. While I was in Tucson I was involved in a sexual relationship with Tanner Griffin, CEO of Wright Enterprises.” I gritted my teeth at him. “Is that good enough for you.”
“It is,” Griffin said with a nod.
“In that case, we have no choice but to terminate your employment immediately and have you escorted from the building,” the HR lady said. She blew out a heavy sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time.
“Stan, you can’t let them do this,” I said, desperation creeping into my voice. “I’m the best analyst you have. Stan? Talk to me.”
Stan finally looked up and shook his head. It was that moment that I knew all was lost.
“I’m sorry, Candice, but your actions have put Goldman & Stern -- and our relationship with Wright Enterprises – in a very precarious position. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
The lawyer stood up and opened the conference room door. A burly security guard was standing at parade rest outside the door.
The lawyer nodded to me and said, “Escort Miss Carlson to her desk and see that she retrieves only her personal property, then show her out of the building.”
Tanner
I felt like a total douchebag when Henry told me that Goldman had fired Candice because of our affair. I felt like a douchebag because I knew ahead of time that she was going to get fired and I didn’t do a fucking thing to stop it or to warn her.
Jesus, what an asshole I was!
That sort of thing wouldn’t have bothered me a bit before I met her. Now, it ate away at my gut like a cancer.
I also knew that Henry was the one who demanded she be fired. I was livid at first, but finally came to see that he was right: I had to stop thinking with my cock and start thinking with my brain.
I liked Candice a lot – AN AWFUL LOT -- but if news of our relationship came to light, it could create the appearance of impropriety that could kill the Anderson deal.
As Henry so aptly pointed out, the financial news media would have a field day. “I can see the headlines now,” he said, holding his hands in their air with thumbs touching. “Billionaire playboy fucks management consultant doing due diligence on a major acquisition. Click here for all the juicy details.”
“You’re overexaggerating,” I said, sitting next to him as the plane circled the Atlanta airport. “That won’t happen.”
“Don’t kid yourself. The financial press loved this sort of dirt. They call it hot sex and cold hard cash.” He blew out a long breath and gave me a sideways look. “Tanner, you know I’m right.”
I knew he was right, but that didn’t make things any easier.
“So, what do you want me to do?” I finally asked in defeat.
“First, you have to break off all communications with her. You can’t text her, you can’t call her, you can’t Facebook her, and you sure as hell can’t send her Anthony Weiner dick pics. None of your usual stuff.”
&n
bsp; “Okay.”
“And if she tries to contact you, you have to ignore her. Do you understand? Block her from your phone and have no further contact with her.”
I had my phone in my hand. I had been holding it in anticipation of the plane landing. The first call I had intended to make was to Candice. It was a call I wouldn’t be making. I glanced at Henry and gave him a nod. “Okay.”
He put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a shake. “Don’t look so down, Tanner. After we close the Anderson deal you can go back to fucking anyone you like. Well, anyone except Candice Carlson.”
Tanner
I couldn’t bring myself to immediately block Candice’s number, nor could I just instantly banish her from my mind. I replied to a few innocent texts, claiming to be too busy to chat.
Then Henry caught me reading a text during a meeting while he was speaking. He simply reached down and plucked the phone from my hands without skipping a beat. He tucked the phone in his jacket pocket and went on with the meeting as if nothing had happened.
I felt like a child who’d had his favorite toy taken away in front of the whole class.
And without Candice in my bed and in my arms, it was a very lonely, sleepless week.
We arrived back in Chicago on Friday morning. The Goldman team – without Candice – was waiting in the conference room for us after lunch.
“Stan, how are you,” Henry said as we entered the room. He shook hands with Stan and the other three stooges. I took a seat and squeezed the red rubber ball between my hands.
“We’re all good, Henry, thanks,” Stan said in his obnoxious, over-eager manner. “And I think you’ll be very pleased with our report.” Christ, this guy needed a fulltime assistant just to keep the brown wiped off his nose.
“We’re eager to see the report,” Henry said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “This is the last box to be checked before we sign the final acquisition papers on Monday. If Anderson gets a clean bill of health from you, we’re all set.”
Stan leaned over the table to pass out the perfectly-bound copies of Goldman’s report. He sat down and opened his copy, and waited for the rest of us to do the same. I didn’t bother looking at it. I didn’t want to touch the fucking thing.