The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 203

Die Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

No Leverage

ZANE

“You have ten minutes to convince me not to dismantle your company

Whatever movement had been happening across the boardroom stopped.

Charles Carrington’s hand remained on the folder he’d been opening. Six Blackridge directors occupied his side of the rabl alongside their general counsel and financial advisers, while my CFO and legal teamn sat opposite them.

I checked my watch.

“Your ten minutes started six seconds ago.”

Carrington slowly removed his hand from the folder. “If this meeting is your idea of humiliating us…”

“You requested the meeting.”

“Because your revised offer is insulting.”

“Then reject it.”

Nobody reached for their papers.

That was what I thought.

Six weeks ago, Blackridge had rejected an offer generous enough to satisfy its shareholders and preserve most of its leadership structure. They rejected the second one too, after which Carrington went on television claiming multiple buyers were competing for the company and Ashton Holdings would have to increase its price.

The buyers never materialized.

Blackridge’s stock had since fallen twenty-two percent, two lenders were reviewing their credit facilities, and the executives who’d spent weeks telling the market they didn’t need Ashton Holdings were now sitting in my boardroom trying to convince me they were still worth yesterday’s price.

Carrington pushed the revised offer away. “Our underlying assets haven’t changed.”

“No, I agreed.

“Then neither should your valuation.”

“Your assets aren’t the problem. Your position is.”

His general counsel leaned forward. “Your original offer was nearly thirty percent higher.”

“Your negotiating position was nearly thirty percent stronger.”

Whitmore’s stare hardened. “You deliberately waited for our stock to fall.”

“Yes”

The blunt answer caught him off guard.

Carrington sat back, anger beginning to show through the composure he’d walked in with.

I checked my watch “Eight minutes.”

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The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

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One of the directors farther down the table spoke before Whitmore could. “What happens if we reject this offer?”

“Ashton Holdings walks.”

Carrington gave a humorless laugh. “You’ve pursued Blackridge for six months. You expect this board to believe you’ll simply abandon the acquisition?”

There it was.

The assumption that because I wanted something, I needed it.

“I don’t need Blackridge, Charles. I need its European distribution contracts, logistics network, and data infrastructure. Everything else is negotiable.”

The director who’d spoken glanced toward Carrington.

Carrington saw it too.

“You intend to strip the company.”

“If that’s the most profitable outcome.”

“You’d dismantle a forty-year-old corporation for three divisions?”

“You put a forty-year-old corporation in this position because you mistook your ego for leverage.”

My CFO lowered his eyes to the document in front of him.

Carrington didn’t bother hiding his anger. “You arrogant son of a bitch.”

Nobody on my side of the table moved.

I checked my watch again. “Six minutes.”

His chair shifted sharply beneath him. “You think because your name is on this building, everyone eventually bends to you?”

I reached for my coffee. “No. Mathematics usually handles that for me.”

Carrington looked ready to come across the table.

One of his directors looked ready to sign.

The second man was considerably more useful.

I set my cup down and pulled another document from the folder in front of me.

“If Ashton Holdings acquires Blackridge under the current proposal, the company can remain operational as a subsidiary. Core divisions stay intact, existing contracts transition under our ownership, and the majority of your workforce remains where it is.”

A director near the end of the table studied me. “You said can.”

“Because there’s another option.”

I slid the document across the polished table.

“We retain the assets we came for, sell what we don’t need, consolidate overlapping operations, and the Blackridge name disappears.”

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The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

Carrington’s hand flattened against the table. “Thousands of people work for this company.”

“Which is why I protected them.”

That got the room’s attention.

The director nearest the document picked it up first. His eyes moved rapidly over the opening page.

“What is this?”

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“Eighteen months of employment protection for nonexecutive employees in Blackridge’s core operations. No merger- related layoffs during that period.”

One of the financial advisers leaned toward the document. “This wasn’t in the previous proposal.”

“No.”

“Why add it now?”

“Because your employees weren’t responsible for rejecting two offers.”

Carrington stared across the table at me while his general counsel took the document from the director and began reading.

It didn’t take long.

“The change-of-control packages are gone.”

“Yes.”

“For the entire executive committee?”

“Yes.”

Carrington’s voice hardened. “You expect this board to approve an acquisition that guarantees employment protection for thousands of people while stripping senior leadership of its severance?”

“I expect the board to decide whether six executives are worth risking several thousand employees.”

One director lowered his eyes to the document again. Another leaned toward the financial adviser beside him. By the time a third began reading over the general counsel’s shoulder, Carrington understood what had happened.

His attention returned to me. “You knew they’d choose the employees.”

“I knew what they should choose.”

“You’re forcing me out.”

“I’m not voting.”

His eyes moved slowly toward his own directors.

That hurt more than anything I could have said.

The oldest among them finally cleared his throat. “We need to discuss the revised terms privately.”

I rose and fastened my jacket. “Take five minutes.”

Carrington looked at me. “You don’t dictate how long my board deliberates.”

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“You’re twelve weeks from a liquidity problem and sitting in my building asking me to buy you. Take as long as you can afford.”

I headed for the door.

“Mr. Ashton.”

My hand reached the handle before Carrington’s voice stopped me.

“If this is approved, my resignation takes effect immediately. I won’t work for you.”

I looked back at him.

“I wasn’t planning to keep you.”

Then I left.

My CFO made it halfway down the corridor before speaking.

“You could’ve mentioned the executive packages.”

“Would you have objected?”

“No,” he admitted. “I would’ve slept better.”

“You can sleep after closing.”

He gave a quiet laugh as my assistant approached from the opposite direction, tablet already in hand.

“That was fast,” she said.

“Prepare the announcement.”

Her brows lifted. “They approved it?”

“They asked for five minutes alone.”

“And you’re already preparing the announcement.”

“They’re not debating the acquisition. They’re deciding how politely to remove Carrington.”

Understanding crossed her face. “I’ll alert Communications.”

“Nothing goes public until Legal has the vote.”

“Yes sir.”

She turned with me toward my office, already working through the next steps on her tablet. “Assuming they approve, Communications can have a statement ready within the hour. We’ll need employee messaging before the market announcement, and Investor Relations will want talking points.”

“Have them ready.”

“They will be.”

We were almost at my office when she glanced at the next item.

“Your mother called.”

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

My hand remained on the door handle. “What did she want?”

“She asked whether you’re coming tonight.”

The Ashton Foundation gala.

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I’d spent enough years attending rooms full of wealthy people congratulating one another for donating fractions of money they wouldn’t miss.

“No.”

My assistant didn’t move.

I looked at her. “What?”

“She told me you’d say that.”

“Then this conversation seems unnecessary.”

“She also told me not to accept it.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“For me, apparently.”

I opened the door, but she wasn’t finished.