knew I would. He said he’s been following my career and that my track record shows I’m up for the challenge.”
“They’ve been looking to do something like this for a long time?”
“According to Andreu they’ve been shaping their new risk-management strategy for a while. Overseas real estate is just going to be one of the pieces.”
“Sounds like they’re looking to make a powerhouse of a deal, Jonah. You just make sure you do whatever it takes to get them what they want. And don’t fuck this up. A company as big as Prevkos only gives you one bite of the apple, no matter who you are. Remember that.”
“Please, Dad, the only reason we’re even having this conversation is because of your relationship with Alexander and Galina.”
“That’s probably true. But what if you had turned out like Jerry Mandel’s kid? All into heroin or crack or whatever it was that got him killed. What would this opportunity have meant then?”
“How do you know I haven’t? You know—gotten into heroin?”
Pop just laughed.
“I don’t care if you eat the shit for breakfast. Whatever it takes to keep your focus, your edge. You keep closing deals, that’s what matters.”
He took a long gulp of his whiskey.
“It’s no different than when you were in high school. I knew you were smoking pot and into all kinds of shit, but I didn’t bother you. You were kicking ass in the classroom. And that’s what counted.”
He scooped some salted almonds from a dish on the bar and flung a couple into his mouth.
“What have you come up with?”
I brought him up to speed not only with regard to what it was Andreu wanted, but what our initial game plan was. My father, dapper as always, looked especially good that night. He was dressed in Brioni from head to toe, highlighting his navy pin-striped suit and white spread-collar dress shirt with a silver necktie that was perfectly knotted as always. Pop was ever a big believer in the perfect knot. Not the little shit four-in-hand knot that most guys’ fathers teach them when they’re eight, but a classy, almost regal Windsor knot. True, it takes a few more steps than the four-in-hand or even the semi-Windsor, but it’s worth it. Pop truly felt it could make or break even the finest suits. The perfect Windsor knot:
serious width and thickness, symmetrical, perfect center dimple, and just a touch brash.
“You look good, Pop. Almost like you’re up to something.”
More laughter.
“What does that mean? Can’t a man look sharp?”
“It was you who once told me that looking sharp is one thing; looking ready to make a deal is another.”
Pop flashed me an approving smile.
“You’re finally fucking learning something. I’m meeting Joe Kelso for dinner.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Cherry-Vail. He’s the CEO.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Cherry-Vail, one of the largest advertising companies in the country, was in the process of looking for a large block of office space in Manhattan. My dad had known a guy on the board of directors for years, so they had come to him directly to discuss a deal for a new Manhattan office. My father had a block of sixty-five thousand square feet coming up the following year. Cherry-Vail was looking to take that sixty-five and add it to another fifteen thousand contiguous feet he had available. In a situation like this it wasn’t just about the eighty thousand square feet being leased in a recovering market. It was more than that. It was about the constant quest to add as much prestige as possible to the tenant roster.
“A little dog and pony show tonight,” I continued.
“Kelso is the decision maker. He wants to meet in person to
discuss some of the specifics. I figure why not do so over Bellinis and the best Veal Milanese in the universe.”
When it comes to the art of the deal, few possess the unshakable focus of my father. It is from him that I learned you have to be willing to go beyond the facts and figures of a term
“They’ve been looking to do something like this for a long time?”
“According to Andreu they’ve been shaping their new risk-management strategy for a while. Overseas real estate is just going to be one of the pieces.”
“Sounds like they’re looking to make a powerhouse of a deal, Jonah. You just make sure you do whatever it takes to get them what they want. And don’t fuck this up. A company as big as Prevkos only gives you one bite of the apple, no matter who you are. Remember that.”
“Please, Dad, the only reason we’re even having this conversation is because of your relationship with Alexander and Galina.”
“That’s probably true. But what if you had turned out like Jerry Mandel’s kid? All into heroin or crack or whatever it was that got him killed. What would this opportunity have meant then?”
“How do you know I haven’t? You know—gotten into heroin?”
Pop just laughed.
“I don’t care if you eat the shit for breakfast. Whatever it takes to keep your focus, your edge. You keep closing deals, that’s what matters.”
He took a long gulp of his whiskey.
“It’s no different than when you were in high school. I knew you were smoking pot and into all kinds of shit, but I didn’t bother you. You were kicking ass in the classroom. And that’s what counted.”
He scooped some salted almonds from a dish on the bar and flung a couple into his mouth.
“What have you come up with?”
I brought him up to speed not only with regard to what it was Andreu wanted, but what our initial game plan was. My father, dapper as always, looked especially good that night. He was dressed in Brioni from head to toe, highlighting his navy pin-striped suit and white spread-collar dress shirt with a silver necktie that was perfectly knotted as always. Pop was ever a big believer in the perfect knot. Not the little shit four-in-hand knot that most guys’ fathers teach them when they’re eight, but a classy, almost regal Windsor knot. True, it takes a few more steps than the four-in-hand or even the semi-Windsor, but it’s worth it. Pop truly felt it could make or break even the finest suits. The perfect Windsor knot:
serious width and thickness, symmetrical, perfect center dimple, and just a touch brash.
“You look good, Pop. Almost like you’re up to something.”
More laughter.
“What does that mean? Can’t a man look sharp?”
“It was you who once told me that looking sharp is one thing; looking ready to make a deal is another.”
Pop flashed me an approving smile.
“You’re finally fucking learning something. I’m meeting Joe Kelso for dinner.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Cherry-Vail. He’s the CEO.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Cherry-Vail, one of the largest advertising companies in the country, was in the process of looking for a large block of office space in Manhattan. My dad had known a guy on the board of directors for years, so they had come to him directly to discuss a deal for a new Manhattan office. My father had a block of sixty-five thousand square feet coming up the following year. Cherry-Vail was looking to take that sixty-five and add it to another fifteen thousand contiguous feet he had available. In a situation like this it wasn’t just about the eighty thousand square feet being leased in a recovering market. It was more than that. It was about the constant quest to add as much prestige as possible to the tenant roster.
“A little dog and pony show tonight,” I continued.
“Kelso is the decision maker. He wants to meet in person to
discuss some of the specifics. I figure why not do so over Bellinis and the best Veal Milanese in the universe.”
When it comes to the art of the deal, few possess the unshakable focus of my father. It is from him that I learned you have to be willing to go beyond the facts and figures of a term
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