Bro Code(48)

“Regardless, I’m here today because I’d like to approach you with an offer for this factory of yours.”

“Excuse me?” I shift back in my seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Last I checked it wasn’t for sale, Mr. Roland.”

“Ava, if I-”

“Ms. Saunders,” I correct him sternly.

“Ms. Saunders. I am prepared to offer you a large sum of money for this facility. You have some prime real estate here and I believe my company could turn this into something really valuable. I’m sure we can work out a deal that would be of great benefit to both of us.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Roland, but this plant is invaluable to me. I’m not looking to sell.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t feel that way if you were offered a million for this little facility.”

I shift my gaze to my feet to try to conceal the surprise in my eyes. A million dollars? That’s double the offer I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. I can’t pretend like it’s not an alluring offer, but it’s irrelevant. The factory isn’t for sale.

I take a deep breath, and square my shoulders. “Mr. Roland, that’s an incredibly generous offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline. My employees and their families rely on this factory and my loyalty is to them.”

He pivots in his seat to lock eyes with his silent business partner, who gives him a firm nod.

“I understand,” he says, turning back to me. “A million and a half then. Final offer.”

One and a half million dollars. There’s no hiding how tempted I am. I think of my father’s medical bills, of the apartment I would be able to afford. Maybe an apartment a little closer to Chicago, a little closer to Barrett. And then I hear the familiar whir of the machines and the chatter of my employees, my second family, the ones I have to look out for above anything else.

“It’s not for sale, Mr. Roland,” I manage to sputter out, watching the beautiful apartment of my dreams slip out of reach.

“Fine. I see that you are in no place to make a deal today. That’s fine. But my offer stands.” He lifts his briefcase onto his lap and snaps it open, pulling a business card out between his middle and pointer finger like a Vegas blackjack dealer. “I’d encourage you to give it some serious thought. And while you’re at it, do a little research on my company. I think you’ll be impressed to see that your facility here would be in great hands. We have taken over factories much larger than this one in the past and seen wild success.”

Roland extends the card across my desk and I reach out tentatively to take it. I flip the glossy, black card over and over in my hands, considering the cost of getting cards like these made. It’s obvious that this guy is no joke—he’s a serious businessman, and I ought to take his offer seriously, too.

“What are you looking to do with this facility, Mr. Roland?”

“That’s of no importance to you, my dear,” Roland says sharply. My jaw tightens at his use of the word ‘dear.’ “All you need to know is that you would be handsomely compensated.”

“And what about the employees?”

“What about them?”

“My staff is my priority. I could never so much as consider selling without knowing for certain that the jobs of my staff would be kept intact. As well as their benefits and insurance policies. I’d need a direct role in the selection of all items pertaining to the employees.”

“I had a feeling you would be looking for more information regarding that,” he says, digging back into his briefcase and emerging with a manila folder. “So, I drafted up this contract. It’s not written in stone, but it offers a good look at what the takeover might involve.” He closes the briefcase with a decisive snap and slides the folder across the desk. I don’t dare touch it, not wanting to show too much interest while he still has an eye on me.

“Give me a call whenever you’re ready to talk business,” Mr. Roland says, getting to his feet and extending his hand once again. “My attorney and I will be awaiting your response, Ava.”

“Ms. Saunders.”

“Yes. Ms. Saunders,” he says flippantly, turning on his heels to leave. “Hold onto that card. You’ll do the right thing.”

The venom in his voice makes it sound more like a threat than a suggestion. I get up from my desk to see them out and close the door behind them, clicking the lock to ensure that I have complete privacy.

With a heavy breath, I settle back in at my desk and pull the summons papers back out of the drawer, setting them on the desk next to Mr. Roland’s business card. I glance at the papers, then at the card. Each one is equally daunting. Still, it seems foolish to dismiss a $1.5 million offer when I’m staring down the barrel of this lawsuit. If my staff would be secure in their jobs, would it really be the worst thing in the world to let the company be in someone else’s hands? But on the other hand, do I really want to sell out the business my father put decades of hard work into?

Between deciphering all this legal jargon and dealing with the new curveball of a potential buyout, there’s no way I can navigate this without Barrett’s help. He’s a corporate lawyer, after all. Mom and Nick may have plenty of opinions on the subject, but Barrett has a little less bias and a lot more professional insight. Letting him advise me is the best move for the business.