lawyers put his hand on Peter’s forearm.
“But that’s why you came to me , isn’t it?” Aaron said. “I am that someone. And this someone is saying that this will be big. It could deliver the true promise of the Internet that everyone has been gagging for over the past decade. Forget about delivering videos to people’s doors, or online universities, or auctioning off your uncle’s baseball cards online. That’s old school. What we have before us is something that could fundamentally alter the way we live, work, play and trade.”
Aaron was good. Right about here, Hayden thought he might have heard a choir of angels and cherubs with trumpets heralding the arrival of a new day. The door to the room opened. A waiter came in with a trolley of amuse bouche and wine.
Peter stood up. “Let’s get something straight, Cannondale. You’re not going to run this company.”
“No, I’m not, Peter, that’s right,” Aaron said coolly. You’re going to run it, along with Timmermans and Michelle. I’m just going to be an investor.”
The others laughed. Hayden felt bad for Peter. The kid was just beginning to realize that he was the only one at the table who wasn’t on board. No one had consulted him.
“Timmermans, what the hell is going on here?” Peter asked, irate.
“It’s the best thing for Cheyenne, Peter,” Timmermans said. “You’ll be taken care of.”
“Taken care of? The hell with being taken care of. I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Yes, you do,” Aaron said. “We all do.”
“Cut the philosophy, Cannondale,” Peter said, getting hotter. “Timmermans?”
“It’s just business, Peter.”
Just business , Hayden thought to himself. What a funny little phrase. He never really understood what it meant. It was a license for two or more parties to obtain what they needed, or wanted. It could also be a license to put one’s morality on a shelf until such time that one needed it again. There was a lot that Hayden didn’t understand about business - a lot that he didn’t want to understand. But he couldn’t help but be glued to the bull fight playing out before him. Aaron was toying with the kid like a matador with a red cape.
“You’re about to give the whole goddam thing away, Timmermans,” Peter said, hurt.
The lawyer, Bertolini, opened his leather attaché case. “Taking into account significant regulatory hurdles, the necessary coordination with the European Commission, and the initial risk involved with an unproven technology, Mr. Cannondale’s Lyrical, through its U.S. subsidiary, Cheyenne Acquisition Corp., is prepared to make an initial investment of $90 million, leading to the eventual purchase of Cheyenne B.V. of the Netherlands , which our bankers currently value at several hundred million dollars.”
Hayden saw Peter’s face cringe. The lawyer speak had started. Translation: Cannondale, through his company, Lyrical, would take an initial 30% stake in Cheyenne, and no doubt, one day soon would ultimately own it.
Hayden could tell that Peter’s mind was racing. He was in a sort of trance. A cynical grin spread across the kid’s face that said, “so this is what it feels like to be cut out.” From this point on, the destiny of Cheyenne would be in someone else’s hands, and it hadn’t even really started yet. Hayden tried to put himself in Peter’s shoes. Then, all of a sudden, Peter came alive, as if he suddenly remembered Bertolini’s words.
“How much did you say?” Peter blurted.
“Several hundred million,” Bertolini said, pausing briefly in his legal recitation. Cheyenne’s lawyers talked among themselves. Fingers wagged in the air.
Several hundred million. Damn, Hayden thought to himself as he looked over at Peter.
CHAPTER TEN
Graham Eatwell had what he always had for dinner when he was feeling good about his ability to navigate the world — steak béarnaise, frites, a simple green salad dripping in vinaigrette and a Côte de
“But that’s why you came to me , isn’t it?” Aaron said. “I am that someone. And this someone is saying that this will be big. It could deliver the true promise of the Internet that everyone has been gagging for over the past decade. Forget about delivering videos to people’s doors, or online universities, or auctioning off your uncle’s baseball cards online. That’s old school. What we have before us is something that could fundamentally alter the way we live, work, play and trade.”
Aaron was good. Right about here, Hayden thought he might have heard a choir of angels and cherubs with trumpets heralding the arrival of a new day. The door to the room opened. A waiter came in with a trolley of amuse bouche and wine.
Peter stood up. “Let’s get something straight, Cannondale. You’re not going to run this company.”
“No, I’m not, Peter, that’s right,” Aaron said coolly. You’re going to run it, along with Timmermans and Michelle. I’m just going to be an investor.”
The others laughed. Hayden felt bad for Peter. The kid was just beginning to realize that he was the only one at the table who wasn’t on board. No one had consulted him.
“Timmermans, what the hell is going on here?” Peter asked, irate.
“It’s the best thing for Cheyenne, Peter,” Timmermans said. “You’ll be taken care of.”
“Taken care of? The hell with being taken care of. I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Yes, you do,” Aaron said. “We all do.”
“Cut the philosophy, Cannondale,” Peter said, getting hotter. “Timmermans?”
“It’s just business, Peter.”
Just business , Hayden thought to himself. What a funny little phrase. He never really understood what it meant. It was a license for two or more parties to obtain what they needed, or wanted. It could also be a license to put one’s morality on a shelf until such time that one needed it again. There was a lot that Hayden didn’t understand about business - a lot that he didn’t want to understand. But he couldn’t help but be glued to the bull fight playing out before him. Aaron was toying with the kid like a matador with a red cape.
“You’re about to give the whole goddam thing away, Timmermans,” Peter said, hurt.
The lawyer, Bertolini, opened his leather attaché case. “Taking into account significant regulatory hurdles, the necessary coordination with the European Commission, and the initial risk involved with an unproven technology, Mr. Cannondale’s Lyrical, through its U.S. subsidiary, Cheyenne Acquisition Corp., is prepared to make an initial investment of $90 million, leading to the eventual purchase of Cheyenne B.V. of the Netherlands , which our bankers currently value at several hundred million dollars.”
Hayden saw Peter’s face cringe. The lawyer speak had started. Translation: Cannondale, through his company, Lyrical, would take an initial 30% stake in Cheyenne, and no doubt, one day soon would ultimately own it.
Hayden could tell that Peter’s mind was racing. He was in a sort of trance. A cynical grin spread across the kid’s face that said, “so this is what it feels like to be cut out.” From this point on, the destiny of Cheyenne would be in someone else’s hands, and it hadn’t even really started yet. Hayden tried to put himself in Peter’s shoes. Then, all of a sudden, Peter came alive, as if he suddenly remembered Bertolini’s words.
“How much did you say?” Peter blurted.
“Several hundred million,” Bertolini said, pausing briefly in his legal recitation. Cheyenne’s lawyers talked among themselves. Fingers wagged in the air.
Several hundred million. Damn, Hayden thought to himself as he looked over at Peter.
CHAPTER TEN
Graham Eatwell had what he always had for dinner when he was feeling good about his ability to navigate the world — steak béarnaise, frites, a simple green salad dripping in vinaigrette and a Côte de
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