The Art of the Hustle (Complete)

Chapter Forty-Eight

"How much is a little?" 

"Ten million." 

He did not even bat an eye. "How soon could you become fully operational?" 

"I have a multiphase strategy to implement. If everything goes according to plan, I expect to be up and running within a couple of months." 

"Why don't you go public with your company or license your idea? I'm sure you would have no problem coming up with the money you need." 

"I considered those options; however, I think you of all people can appreciate the satisfaction and freedom of being your own boss." 

For the next twenty minutes, Lindberg picked my brain about the company. For every question he had, I had an answer. I was well prepared.  

When it appeared I had satisfied his inquiry, he looked at me and said, "I have to say, I get a lot of crazy proposals from people who claim their product or service will be the next big thing. I turn down ninety-nine percent of them in hopes one day someone like you will walk through my doors. There is something different about you." 

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you." 

"I'll tell you what. Let me get back to you on this. I like what I see, but I need my team to look it over first." 

Although Lindberg seemed impressed by me and my idea, I had no way of knowing if he actually meant any of those praises or if he just said that to everybody. For all I knew, he might throw my proposal in the garbage before the door closed behind me on my way out. I did not want to take that chance. I had to close him now. 

The way I saw it, it was a David versus Goliath moment. Here was one of the richest men in the world, wielding a global empire, and I was just a kid with a slingshot. So, I approached it like any other scenario in my life. I was a warrior and this was a battle - me versus him. I had marched right into enemy territory and was staring directly into the eye of the beast. However, this was not a battlefield in the traditional sense; this was business - a war of wits. Who can outsmart whom. If I was going to be successful in taking down this mammoth, I needed a strategy. Luckily, I had one.  

Step one: attack with a double-edged sword - the sympathy praise. Make him vulnerable for the attack by lowering his guard with a sympathetic story. "You know, when I first moved to Vancouver, I was just a bright-eyed kid - seventeen years old. I remember coming downtown for the first time and looking up at all the tall buildings. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. One building in particular stood out among the rest - your building. I walked right up to the front of your building, looked up, and felt inspired. I had no idea who you were or what you did, but I wanted to be like you one day. Now, ten years later, sitting in your office is like a dream come true." 

Now, for the praise.  

"Being here today speaks volumes of your character. I see your name plastered everywhere on this building, inside and out. It marks the sign of a great man - a leader - someone who built an empire because he possessed what others did not have - the courage and intelligence to make his own decisions, to exercise judgment, and to take calculated risks. But above all, you see the value in something when no one else does."  

My next move was to make him come to me in the hopes of snaring him in a trap. I had planned every move in my mind and had gone over every detail a hundred times - every variable and every response.  

"I was really hoping we could do this deal today, Mr. Lindberg, but obviously you need more time," I said as I snapped the locks on my briefcase shut and stood up. 

"That was a good speech, kid." 

"Please don't call me 'kid'," I blurted out. 

Mr. Lindberg sat back in his chair and evaluated me head to toe. Neither one of us said a word. It was time to up the ante so I turned around and headed for the door. This was a risky play, which could only go one of two ways. Either he would allow me to walk away, or he would fold under the pressure and yield to my will. When you force someone's hand, you never know what the outcome will be. 

"Mr. Morrison," he said. I turned around, not knowing what to expect. "You showed a lot of courage in here today, standing up to me like that. Most people have trouble looking me in the eye without wetting their pants. You're going to need courage like that if you want to be successful in this game." 

That was it. I had failed. Lindberg was impervious to my pathetic attack. It was as if he just patted me on the head like a little boy and sent me on my way. I bowed my head low in defeat and proceeded to walk out the same way I had come in. Then he said something I had not expected. 

"I deliberately called you 'kid'." 

I stopped dead in my tracks. This was something I had not prepared for. I turned around to face him. Much to my surprise, he was smiling.  

"I needed to know how you would handle being called a kid, and guess what?" 

"What's that, sir?" 

"You passed," he said, still smiling. "You know, you remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. Please, come back, have a seat." 

Game on. I was back in it. 

"I appreciate that. Thank you, sir." 

"I'll tell you what; I can have the money wired to you this afternoon." 

"Under what terms?" I asked.  

This was a brand new battle - negotiations. If I won that, I won the war. I was seeking a ten million dollar investment in exchange for a twenty percent stake in my company. A fifty million dollar valuation was hard to justify at that stage in the game, but was still completely reasonable for what I was proposing.  

"Since I'm putting up all the money, and therefore all the risk, I think a fifty percent stake in the company is fair."  

He had fired the first round at me and now it was my turn to respond. Typically, the person who speaks first in a negotiation loses. He was already at a disadvantage. 

"Wow, fifty percent. That's a lot. You know, I really don't think I can do fifty percent." I paused for effect. Waiting makes people anxious, and anxiety leads to desperation. But surely this was not Allan Lindberg's first negotiation. I would need to do a lot more than that in order to persuade him. 

Step one: make him feel unnecessary. "Look, Mr. Lindberg, with all due respect, ten million dollars is not a lot of money. I can get that by the end of the week." 

Step two: the lowball counteroffer. "How about I give you a ten percent stake, and even that is a lot." 

Step three: the hook. "And I'll also give you exclusive access to the third level at Ace."  

In order to hook a whale like Lindberg, I needed to use a sizable bait that would attract his attention. I had just dangled the sparkly lure of exclusivity right in front of his face. The only thing left to do was wait for him to chomp down on it.  

Lindberg sat back in his chair a moment and studied me. It was as if I had entered his thoughts and was following his chain of reasoning. First, he studied my posture and demeanour. Next he analyzed the inflection in my voice. Then he took notice of the quality and cut of my suit. Finally... the offer.  

"There's a third level?" he said, right on cue. That is when I knew I had him. All that was left to do was to wait until he tired, then drag him onboard. 

"Yes, but few people know about it, so I would appreciate your discretion." 

"Make it ten million for a twenty percent stake and we have a deal." 

"Okay, we have a deal." 

I was ecstatic. I managed to get the exact deal I wanted. I had just gone toe to toe with the great Allan Lindberg, and won. I nearly exploded with pride. I wanted to open one of the windows and shout at the top of my lungs, but I did not. I kept my composure and remained calm and collected. I confidently walked over and shook his hand to secure the deal. 

Now that I had the financing in place, I needed to assemble my team.