One of the nice things about being busy is it makes you focus on what's important to you and how you use your time. -- Lorne Michaels
Chapter 18 - Bootstrapping
Rachel pats my back and wishes me luck, "Remember, dinner is at 7:00. Magnolia's. I'm paying." She's feisty. How I never picked up on that before, I don't know -- yes I do. I was busy rejecting everyone that wasn't Chandler. Because from the moment I decided to take a chance on my best friend, she's the only woman I think about.
"I remember. See you then."
I stop at Tonya's desk and wait for her to finish on the phone, probably with the law firm from the sound of it. She jots down a few things and hangs up the call and reminds me that I'm meeting with Reuben Messer tomorrow at 9:00, and she hands me the address. "I'll also texted it to you to forward to your GPS if you need."
"Thanks." I look back toward my office and say, "Can you establish a place for Rachel McHutchins in the vacant office down from me? She'll be here for the next few weeks, and she's going to need a place to work. Can you make sure she has everything she'll need?"
"Yes, sir," Tonya answers but doesn't pry into why Rachel's sudden appearance in my department. With the pitying look she surmises that this request came further up the food chain.
Deana stops me, handing me her tablet opened to my recent email. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes, send it to Mr. Cahill. You may need to rewrite it some, I was in hurry." I hand her tablet back to her.
"You're really agreeing to this?" I only nod, referring to my grandfather's insistence of Rachel's invaluable service on saving an asset of our merger with Mid-South. He has hired her as press liaison dealing with all aspects of the merger, along with another division that I oversee. This is nothing more than him meddling with my personal life again, but this time I have an advocate on my side.
Regan is at her desk; wrist deep in expenditure reports and looks relieved when she catches sight of me. "How did it go?" she asks, referring to my negotiations with Roger Payne.
"I have a signed contract. He's with us for the next three years."
"That's great. Any other changes?"
"No, pretty much the same contract just under new management. The three years was what was left of his old contract. He wanted one. We pushed for five."
"That's good. And on the other matter?"
Taking out three files, I lay them on her desk. "I drew these up this afternoon." For the entire flight I took pen to paper and hashed out the most viable options Regan had given me. "I'm meeting with RAM tomorrow."
"How is the snot nosed brat?" She laughs as she refers to my college roommate that bonded with her during the home soccer games she was able to make.
"I'll tell him you still call him that," I tell her.
"He knows. I'm sure he still refers to me affectionately as 'Super Bitch'."
"Probably," I chuckle, thinking about how uptight Regan acts, she played with my roommate as if they were brother and sister...just not the nice kind. "I haven't seen him. I had Deana make the appointment."
She shuffles the papers in the first file, and I give her a moment to look over the notes and the outline I made to help me organize the action. I watch as she reads through, makes some notes, and discards it for another file. After she reads through all three, making notes on each, she looks up at me.
"Which one are you going for?" I can't answer, because I'm still deciding.
"Which one will you support?"
"All three. I wouldn't have given it to you if I wasn't going to have your back."
For the next two hours we worked through the financial aspect of the my choices, of which I was unaware. "I would sit down and talk to your mother and brother about this. This affects them as much as any of us. Not to the extent, but their opinions need to be heard."
"I'll see them over the 4th. I'll talk to them, then."
Preparing my things to leave, she stops me. "My advice. Narrow it to two, and have both options ready when you talk to him."
Thomas drives through the historic district and drops me in front of Magnolia's restaurant, which specializes in upscale Lowcountry cuisine "Well?" Rachel greets me as she's already seated at the table.
"Well, hello. Nice to see you, Mason. How was your afternoon?" I say in a teasing manner, "it's nice to see you again, so soon." I wait wondering where her smart mouth will take her. When she's silent I press on. "She tells me I need to narrow my options to two and be prepared."
"Well, ok, then."
Rachel and I enjoy a quiet dinner, talking about the area and what she could do while she's here. With her father's blessing, she's taken off from work to help at Cahill Industries for a few weeks maybe months. It's a backroom handshake deal my grandfather instigated, trying to encourage a family merger - his family with the Senator's.
She's got quite the personality when you get her away from the office for a while, and most of conversation requires my brain to move as fast as her wit. By the time the check comes, I sit back and let her handle it. It's very out of character and feels very wrong, but she insists and I won't fight.
"Ready to do this?" She asks as I help her out of her chair.
"Let the show begin."
As soon as we step out of the restaurant we make a left walking the streets of the old historic district. I hail a carriage, and for the next thirty minutes we tour. Our guide tells us a little history of the area, and we intermix that with things to do.
I tell her, "If you like seafood, then, next time we'll go to Hank's, but I'm buying."
"Deal."
We travel down the riverfront before making are way back to the street near where we hoped a ride. As we descend the carriage, I exit first and help her out, extending a hand for the lady. A flash of light surprises me, and my name is called. When I look, a photographer snaps another picture.
"And so it begins," Rachel whispers with a sly smile.
I extend my elbow to escort her back to her car, touching her no differently than I would if I were with Addy or my mother. "I hope this works," I tell her.
"If nothing else it buys you time, and it gets me out of DC."
Deana contacts me about returning Chandler's call, as I travel to Columbia to meet with RAM. "Hey, what's going on?" I ask, trying to act innocent, but I know exactly what's caught her panties on fire.
"Mason, why is there a big burly man at my door with instructions to assess my loft?" I laugh at her descriptions she lays out of what is going on this morning.
"Well, you said you needed to get ready to move. So, I hired you some help. I spoke to Robert this morning; he only needs you to finish out the week. I insisted I needed you on site after that."
"Mason," she chastises. "That's a little heavy handed."
"No it's not. I've waited long enough, and I'm breaking down the barriers that are keeping us apart."
"Mason!"
"Be nice to the movers; they're only following orders. My only question is do you want your things in storage in Chicago or sent out here to me?"
"Mason!"
"It's you're decision." I can hear the joy in her voice, even though she's irritated with me. "Just remember, I want you with me, and I'll do everything it takes to see that that happens."
"Ok, Mr. Bossy Pants. I'll be nice to the movers, and I'll let you know what I decide."
"That's more like it. I love you."
"I love you more." She quickly lets me go when I tell her I'm on my way to an appointment.
Punching the button for the fifth floor, where Jacobs, Greenwood, and Messer lawyer firm is located; I wait. RAM is waiting when I exit the elevator. "Kill-Pack, he greets," calling me by the nickname I earned for four shutouts my first four games my junior year at Duke.
"RAM, good to see you." We share a man hug and shoulder pats as I step back to assess the changes in my former college roommate.
His once sandy brown hair is now receding more than most 26-year-old's. He still wishes he's as tall as me, as he straights to his full height beside me, and the weight he wore in college to play football is now gone, but not the muscles that go with it.
We walk down the hall toward his office, and he motions me into the second room on the right with the name Reuben A. Messer on the door. After a few minutes of small talk, mostly catching up for the few years I haven't seen him; we get down to business.
"So, what brings you to my humble place of business?" He asks and pulls out a pad and paper, preparing to take notes.
"I need some help with restructuring."
He looks pleased with himself for me to be asking for his help on a project. "I thought you would have in-house lawyers for this kind of work."
I just smile and wait for him to catch up with my true need. "This is behind the big man's back?" I just nod, and the meeting takes a whole new turn. "Let me get my father."
A few minutes later, he leads me to his father's office at the end of the corridor, overlooking downtown Columbia. "Mason, good to see you. Reuben tells me you have a few ideas for restructuring your company?"
"Yes, sir." With the addition of a personal assistant, we sit down to begin the task of reorganizing P. Cahill Industries into a holding company with a subsidiary broadcasting company under it's umbrella. Effectively moving the media holdings into a sub company under different leadership, but answering to the same board of trusties.
"And this couldn't be done in-house?" Reuben Sr. asks.
"That was the same question I had."
"There are some other issues that need to be taken care of before I can go to the board with these recommendations. I didn't need anyone to second guess my ideas, or tell me they weren't plausible before I have taken care of the first issues."
"Good idea to get outside council sometimes, the company lawyers sometime see things only in the point of view of the senior management, without looking for other possibilities."
Since this is only a preliminary meeting about the procedures and legalities of the restructuring the divisions of Cahill Industries, we break after lunch with an appointment set for two weeks. Good, I'll have something substantial to show Mom to gain her support with her voting stock.
"Rachel," a perky voice answers.
"You in the mood to celebrate?"
"Always. I take it everything went well?" She doesn't know the specifics. She only knows that certain stations in our portfolio need to be designated to meet FCC regulations, and I contacted a firm to help cut through some of the red tape. Even though that will be addressed, the restructuring of the company is my primary (yet, secret) goal.
"So, we can go to Hank's Seafood tonight, or we can try another hand at Lowcountry?"
"I'd love to go to Lowcountry Bistro. Deana was telling me that was one of favorites." Her voice becomes a little more tempting when she adds, "It's not far from my hotel."
"Where are staying? I'll pick you up."
"Belmond." Of course, if you want grand luxury for a few nights, the Belmond Charleston Place is where you stay. It is a large antebellum style southern hotel, grand with room and hospitality. I hope she enjoys it, because in a few days, she'll be set in a company apartment just a few blocks from the offices. The place is nice, but the scenery has a lot to be desire.