One Indian Girl(23)

‘There are no assets,’ Jonathan continued. ‘The company has nothing apart from lots of bowling pins and bowling balls.’

Recovering fifty million dollars would require a lot of bowling balls, I thought. The bankers looked at each other in silence, sympathizing with each other for their collective stupidity in lending so much money to MegaBowl.

‘Tell us what to do,’ one of the bankers said. ‘We just want out. I can’t deal with their stupid CEO.’

My hand went into my handbag and grabbed my phone.

‘Radhika.’ Jonathan saying my name startled me. ‘Please share the plan.’

Damn, I needed a minute to tell Debu I couldn’t make it tonight. I released my phone and brought my hand out of my bag.

‘Eh, sure, Jonathan,’ I said. I shared the special booklets I had prepared for the meeting.

‘Our basic premise,’ I said, opening the first page, ‘is to keep MegaBowl as a going concern. There is little value in liquidation, just about six cents on the dollar. However, it is fifty cents if we allow the CEO to continue.’

‘Fire him,’ Dirk Grigly, a fat and bald banker from Bank of America, said. ‘He has caused all the mess.’

‘He has, yes,’ I said, ‘but we need him to stabilize operations for now. We also have to retrench people and cut salaries. Let’s use him to do the dirty work.’

I walked them through the plan. It would enable the company to reduce its size and reduce costs.

The bankers pored over the booklets. I thought of an excuse I could use to take out my phone. I didn’t want Debu to leave for the restaurant.

The bankers cared little about my boyfriend.

‘What’s the guarantee it is going to work?’ one of the lenders said.

‘There isn’t,’ I said, ‘but now that we have finally valued the business, twenty-five million is maximum recovery. Or fifty cents on the dollar.’

‘We can offer thirty cents,’ Jonathan said, ‘and you can be out of this.’

That’s how we worked. Bid at thirty cents, hoped to recover fifty.

‘Thirty cents?’ Dirk said. ‘That’s nothing.’

‘Goldman is taking all the risk here of reviving it,’ Jonathan said.

The creditors huddled together.

‘Should we leave you alone for ten minutes?’ Jonathan said and stood up.

Yes, this was my chance to make my call. Jonathan, Clark and I left the room.

I rushed back to my cubicle.

I called Debu.

‘Hey baby, where are you? I was just about to leave. Did you see my messages?’ Debu said.

‘No, I just stepped out of a never-ending creditor meeting.’

‘What?’

‘We are about to close a deal. My first, actually.’

‘It’s 7.30. We have an 8 o’clock reservation. Comedy Cellar doesn’t allow you late entry.’

‘I am so sorry. Can you cancel it, please?’

‘We’ve already paid. Fifteen bucks each.’

‘I know. I am so sorry.’

‘What? Really?’ he said, his voice low.

‘Can I make it up to you? Tonight? Come over to my place.’

‘When?’

‘Have your dinner and come over. I will join you soon.’

I hung up and waited at my desk. I had rented a one-bedroom unit in Tribeca, one of the closest residential neighbourhoods from Wall Street. Debu had an extra set of keys, as he came over on a regular basis.

I had gone to his place in Brooklyn only a few times. A typical bachelor pad, it had more beer than groceries in the fridge. He shared the apartment with two other guys, offering us little privacy. They kept their house keys under a potted plant outside the house. When I asked Debu why, he said, ‘Just simpler, baby, we lost six duplicate keys in the last three months.’

My desk phone rang. Jonathan had called from the meeting room.

‘Can you and Clark come over?’ he said.

Clark and I reached the meeting room.

‘Clark, Radhika, I am happy to say the lender group here has agreed. We have a deal. Your first, right?’

‘Yes. That is great news,’ I said.

‘Radhika, we need a quick term sheet. The remaining documentation can be done later.’

My heart sank. A term sheet would take a couple of hours. Jonathan and Clark took the lenders downstairs for a drink to Harry’s Café & Steak, two blocks from the Goldman building. I worked at my desk, drafting the term sheet with all the deal conditions.

Jonathan came up to my desk late at night. He looked at his watch.

‘Ten minutes to midnight. Oh no. Sorry about this. You should go home, Radhika,’ he said.

‘Just mailed you the final term sheet.’ I logged out of my computer.

‘Well done. You were fantastic in this deal. You are a real asset to the group,’ Jonathan said.

I felt a warm glow of happiness inside me as I left the Goldman building. Jonathan’s words stayed in my head. I couldn’t wait to share them with Debu.



‘I am sleeping, baby,’ Debu complained as I switched on the bedroom ceiling light.

‘Sorry,’ I said as I switched the light off. I turned on the bedside lamp instead.

‘What time is it?’ he said in a sleepy voice.