Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
It was Friday evening, which made it impossible to arrange anything spur of the moment, and with such a short trip anyway, we were forced to scrap our plans. Frustration rolled off Royce in thick waves.
“It’s okay.” I curled my hand around his arm and snuggled closer as we stood in the frosty airplane hangar. “I just want to be alone with you. I don’t care where.”
The irritation raging in his expression faded. “I know. Me too. But, fuck, Marist. I was promised you were going to wear a bikini.”
I snorted. “I can still put it on. You just have to let me wear socks too, though, because your dad keeps the house freezing.” My voice trailed off at the end. Why the fuck had I said that? With the mention of Macalister, Royce stiffened. I had to try again. “There’s always our honeymoon.”
He’d booked the yacht for the French Riviera like we’d talked about, and we’d leave for Nice the day after our wedding in June.
At least, if there wasn’t an emergency for Macalister that required our yacht.
In March, HBHC presented its offer to Ascension with a ‘bear hug’ letter. It was called a bear hug because it was an overly warm and generous offer to the target company’s shareholders. Ascension had been trading at forty-two dollars. HBHC’s tender offer was fifty a share. The market went nuts. I could feel the frenzied air sweeping in from New York all the way up in Boston.
Everyone was abuzz with the announcement that Hale Banking and Holding was plotting a takeover. Wall Street sharks smelled blood in the water. Royce and I were up late the night the news broke, and we watched the scrolling banner on CNBC in bed together, our breath tight.
Maybe he already felt he’d passed the threshold, but for me, this was the moment where there was no turning back. The offer was out, done, and it was Ascension’s move now. They could counter the proposal, or fight, or reject it, but each path had its own pitfalls. If they turned it down, they risked being sued by their shareholders.
And I was currently in bed with one of them. I didn’t know how much stock, specifically, he owned, but if the company accepted HBHC’s offer, he stood to make a fortune larger than most third-world economies.
Some of my classmates were talking about the offer the next morning, but to each other and not me. Since becoming Royce’s fiancée, I suffered from a different type of ostracism. The other students in my Financial Crises class viewed me as one of the gods from Mount Olympus, and as mere mortals, believed they were forbidden to speak to me.
It was lonely, but familiar.
I stared blankly at the table at the front of the classroom, waiting for the lecture to begin. Where was the professor?
As if on cue, she breezed in, moved the strap from her bag over her head, and dropped it on the podium. “Sorry. This is last minute, so please bear with me.” She took out her phone and tapped the screen. “We have a guest professor for today. Hold on while I pull up his bio.”
She didn’t give a name as she began reading, but it only took a few details before my stomach dropped. Harvard MBA. CEO of one of the biggest banks in the world. Enjoys chess in his spare time.
My professor’s smile was wide. “We all know the impact of the subprime financial crisis of 2008, but this is a rare opportunity to get an inside look at how one bank found themselves in jeopardy and then responded. Let’s give a big welcome to Macalister Hale.” She gestured to the open doorway. “Mr. Hale?”
There were audible gasps when he strode into the room, looking powerful in his black suit and red tie. Some of the women clapped. Others were too busy gazing at him as if Gordon Gekko had magically come to life and decided the first thing he’d do was give a lecture at a women’s college in Boston.
He’d just announced to the world he wanted Ascension. What was he doing here?
His surveyed the room critically as he moved to the podium at the center and noted the bag on it with a look of disdain.
“Oh,” the professor said with a too-bright, enamored smile. “That’s mine.”
She grabbed it by the strap and in her flustered state immediately dropped it, sending makeup and car keys scattering loudly across the hard floor. He didn’t help her as she apologized and scooped the items up. He simply stared at her, and I could hear the thought running through his mind. Be gone with you.
When she finally stepped to the side and took her seat, he placed his hands on the podium and lifted his steely-eyed gaze to meet mine.