About Acquisitions and Mergers
Written by Lucius Parhelion
55 pages / 20000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-474-8, 1-60370-474-4
Available file types - html,
lit, pdf, prc
Bob and Trip are best friends and business partners who are negotiating the sale of their company when Bob decides to come out of mourning for his dead wife, Melinda. Since Melinda was his cousin, Trip understands what Bob is going through, and while he figures Bob is as straight as they come, he has broken down and offered comfort at the risk of ruining their friendship.
When Bob finally does decide to turn his attention to love again, though, it's Trip he finds himself caring about. Trip isn't sure he can believe it, and he doesn't want to lose what they do have together by rushing into things. Can Bob convince Trip that it's not just a whim, and that they can find more together than a company merger?
Sample
A hand smacked Trip’s wingtip shoe, hard. "Get your feet off your desk. We’re going to be late."
Trip looked up from his copy of Galaxy. Cornered, and in the middle of a story by Cordwainer Smith. "I was getting ready."
"Which is why you’re hiding in your office with most of the lights off, reading." Bob reached over and whisked the April 1960 issue of Galaxy out of Trip’s hands. Trip didn’t resist, but he did watch the magazine go with what he knew must be a mournful gaze.
Not that, mournful gaze or no, Bob would have mercy. Not when this much money was at stake. After picking up a memo about Research and Development’s operating expenses from Trip’s inbox, he marked Trip’s page, opened the top drawer of Trip’s desk, dropped in Galaxy, and slammed the drawer shut with the flourish that he added to any gesture meant to make a point. "Stop stalling. You only have to fake an interest in matters financial until we’re done with negotiations this evening, and at a nightclub at that. There’ll even be a floor show to distract the B.T.C execs from your evident discomfort."
"I hate nightclubs." Trip stood up and reached for the hanger on the coat rack that held his suit coat.
"Oh, really?" Bob raised both eyebrows. "What a surprise." His tone was ironic, his expression miffed in a way that resembled FaLa, Melinda’s Siamese. No, FaLa was Bob’s Siamese now. In either case, annoyed cat was an expression that suited Bob’s dark and polished looks. A youngish George Macready without the scar.
With the ease of many years of practice, Trip derailed his train of thought and concentrated on donning his suit coat. While he adjusted his cuffs, Bob said, "You also hate business politics. For once, you’ll have to cope. And behave. Our dinner partners are both senior executives at their firms, so no wild speculations about the future, none of your notions about politics, and no hobby talk aside from fishing, baseball, and racquetball."
Trip looked up, irritated. He wasn’t that bad. "I guess I’ll just have to tell them tales about my relaxing visits to the Everard Baths."
"Oh, how amusing. I’m dying from the laughter. So would the deal." Bob’s features softened from annoyed to surprised. "What the hell did you do to your tie?"
"What?"
Stepping forward, Bob seized both ends of Trip’s rep tie between forefinger and thumb, and flapped them. "The thinner end is on top of the thicker end."
Trip stepped back and yanked his tie free. Then he picked up the ends so that he could examine them. "Huh. You’re right."
"Astonishing."
"It didn’t start out reversed. I wonder how I did that."
"R&D later, important business dinner now. Fix it."