The 'Cousins'

Part Ninety-Two (Delta): It's More Than Business!

 Dedication:  Three cheers for Colm Herron (@ColmHerron) who has just published THE WAKE!   LIke many others here I started reading the book here on WP, but now it is is published I have bought the finished  book and am enjoying it even more. I intend writing a review on Amazon and Good reads when I'm done. Now why don't you all buy the book and write reviews for Colm as well?

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Part Ninety-Two ( Delta)

A/N: Continues directly on from the last chapter with Wayne and Greg in the motel room.

With an exaggerated gesture of nonchalance Greg tossed Wayne’s cell phone onto the sofa after closing his call with Dean Halburton, and stood silently glaring across at Wayne, his finger and thumb vigorously rubbing his nose while he organised the turmoil in his mind into rational, logical thought.

  Wayne stood two feet away from him sporting a silly grin on his face, proffering two bottles of cold, Lucky Bucket IPA he’d taken from the fridge. Greg involuntarily licked away the dryness of his lips at the tantalising sight of the bubbles of condensation cosseting the bottles of beer. Wayne spoke first and sounded upbeat.

  “I only got one side of the conversation, but I reckon it was enough for me to know you’re staying with us after all. That’s great!  Shall we drink to compromise?” His face split into a broad grin as he held out a bottle for Greg to take. 

“Whoa Boy! Hold onto your horses. It’s not quite that simple. From what Dean has just told me there’s a lot more to this business that I don’t know about. Everything’s moved up to a higher plane and that makes our differences tonight not only trivial, but also downright laughable.  I find myself in the position of either walking away from the biggest thing since Dunkin invented donuts or choosing to stay with it and trade-off my principles without actually knowing what it is I’ll be trading them for. That’s because nobody who does know, and that seems just about everybody else around here, will trust me enough to tell me. Now how do you think that makes me feel towards you and your pet project?” 

  Greg noticed that the worry lines which had earlier prematurely aged and disfigured Wayne’s face had disappeared along with his grey pallor and the dead-fish lacklustre of his eyes. Wayne’s apparent age had lost ten years in as many seconds. Greg could not return a smile to match Wayne’s bonhomie as he took hold of the beer, turning his head to one side to regard the young entrepreneur with a sceptic eye.

  Greg’s ire sounded in the harshness of his voice and conveyed itself in the challenge of his stare, informing the younger man that the impasse was far from over. 

  Wayne carefully placed his beer on the coffee table and stood with his hands crossed in front of him, no hint of frivolity or jollity on his face and prompted Greg to continue. 

  “Go on,” he said bleakly.

   “When I first heard about this IPO I thought it was just the natural progression of the business we had started up together and that you developed subsequently. I had no idea it’s true purpose was to provide a financial milch cow to feed another altogether different enterprise.” Greg raised his voice. “The basic details of which I am not to know anything about. So if you still want me as CEO to run Fishers out into the marketplace for you that is what I’ll accept and only that.”

Wayne held up his hands and shook his head in confusion. “I’m not with you Greg. What do you mean, that is only what you’ll accept?”

  “I mean I’ll accept the CEO position of Fisher’s with a target to expand it’s manure to energy business throughout the US of A and beyond through a franchise network to produce an income revenue of 100 millions gross within a reasonable period of time; as discussed on the phone tonight with Dean Halburton.”