Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry(47)
A potentially even bigger problem was Myers. At the first sign of trouble, that Boy Scout is going to break and start singing about the wires to Carter & Associates, he thought. Even with a board that was so favorably disposed to him, if Myers and Carter started telling the same story, his support would erode very quickly.
Shoving aside the computer he used only to communicate with Carter, he opened his other laptop and clicked on the email from Junior that had turned his life upside down. He reread it for what had to be the twenty-fifth time.
Dick, A young associate producer spoke to me today. She claims she had a me-too encounter with Brad Matthews in his office. Her description was graphic. I told her I’d look into it. How do you want to handle? Fred
Sherman got up and paced around his office. Junior has as much on the line as I do, he thought. It was an open secret that Junior was hoping to succeed his father as chairman of the board. Even after the IPO, enough shares would be in the hands of the Carlyle family to make that happen unless—
“Unless he realizes this could bring him down, too,” Sherman said aloud. After Pomerantz talked to Junior, he sent Sherman the email. When she approached Junior a second time, he basically told her to go back to work. If that’s all that happened, Junior might be able to wiggle off the hook. But if she played that tape for him and he let it drop after sending a note to Sherman, he was in big trouble. Women, who comprised 57.3 percent of REL’s viewership, would scream bloody murder.
Sitting back down, Sherman typed a quick email to Frederick Carlyle, Jr. Would he be free tomorrow to discuss a private matter?
51
Frederick Vincent Carlyle, Jr., eased into the plush leather chair behind the mahogany desk and looked around. The corner office looked the same as when his father was the occupant. The walls included photographs of his father with the previous six US presidents, heads of state of foreign governments, and Hollywood royalty. A map of the world encased in glass showed the locations of REL bureaus and affiliates around the globe. Fourteen honorary doctorates adorned the walls. Centered among them was a “Time Magazine Person of the Year” cover.
“Junior,” as he knew most employees referred to him behind his back but never to his face, was a realist. His father would always be the Horatio Alger, rags-to-riches success story, the entrepreneur whose accomplishments reminded people that America remained the land of opportunity. Junior realized and accepted that no matter what he did, he would always be viewed differently. Taking something big and making it much larger is not nearly as sexy a story as starting from nothing and making something big. He thought, as he often did, of the zinger lobbed at President George W. Bush: “He was born on third base, but he thinks he hit a triple.” One industry analyst had written that Junior’s sole accomplishment was being named to New York City’s list of most eligible bachelors.
But the accolades would come, he promised himself. Seven years earlier, he had begun talking to his father about the advantages of transitioning the privately owned REL to a publicly traded company. “Why?” had been his father’s first question. “What’s wrong with the way we’re doing things now?”
“Because we no longer have the luxury of slowly building our brand around the world” had been Junior’s response. Using the wall map of REL’s affiliates and bureaus, he had pointed to Europe and a few other locations. “Here’s where we are,” Junior had said. But pointing to wide swaths of Asia, the Arab world, and Africa, he said, “Look at all this area where we have zero or minimal presence. CNN is there, Fox and several European news organizations are trying to get there, and we’re resting on our laurels as we focus on our business in the United States. We can borrow a ton of money to build an international presence, assuming our banks will work with us, or we can raise the capital we need by going public.”
The execution to date had been flawless. Every indication from the investment bank hired to do the road show was that interest from institutional investors was very strong. Several directors had discussed with him the possibility of his succeeding Sherman as CEO or his father as chairman of the board. Avoid any missteps over the next few weeks and the idea Junior had put in motion seven years ago would come to fruition. A beep from his desktop phone interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Carlyle, Mr. Sherman is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
Junior walked around his desk and shook hands with Sherman, who declined his offer of coffee. He pointed Sherman to the conference table and took a seat opposite him. Sherman, who was never good at small talk, gave it a try.
“How’s your dad doing?”
“Good days and bad. He barely recognizes me, but his aide takes very good care of him. He can speak with some clarity about his early years. Any mention of the IPO gets a blank stare.”
“Well, tell him I was asking about him.”
Both men immediately recognized the folly of the request. Carlyle Sr. would probably have no idea who Sherman was.
“I will, Dick. Thanks.”
“Fred, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you what a great job you did, you’re doing, in shepherding this IPO process.”
“I don’t think you did. That’s nice to hear. I appreciate it.”
“The company and each of us personally have a lot to gain if this IPO is successful and a lot to lose if it isn’t.”