Chapter 4 - The Study
The cold night air hit my face, clearing the heavy scent of roasted meats and expensive perfume from my lungs. I dialed Talia’s direct line.
“What’s the exact cash position at Larkfield?” I asked the moment she picked up.
“Disastrous,” Talia said without preamble. “They defaulted on their vendor payments to two major furniture suppliers in High Point last Friday. Their previous CEO walked away with a six-million-dollar severance package three weeks ago, leaving a massive liquidity gap. They need two hundred thousand dollars tonight just to cover payroll for their regional warehouse workers on Friday. They’re using Skyler’s equity buy-in as a emergency band-aid.”
“And our freight account with them?”
“Overdue by four point two million,” Talia replied. “If we issue a formal notice of default, their credit lines will freeze instantly. They’ll be in Chapter 11 before Christmas.”
I stood on the porch steps, watching the frost form on the railing. My family believed I was a failure who needed to be rescued for thirty-eight thousand dollars a year, while the company my sister was supposed to lead was hours away from insolvency—an insolvency that my own company had the power to trigger or prevent.
The porch door opened behind me. Harlan Voss stepped out, his suit jacket unbuttoned, a cold sweat visible on his brow. He closed the door firmly behind him.
“Ms. Hayes,” Voss said, his tone entirely changed from the polite, patronizing air he had carried at the dinner table. “We need to speak privately. In your father’s study.”
I followed him inside into the quiet, wood-paneled room. Voss closed the door, walked over to my father’s desk, and turned to face me, resting his hands on the back of the leather chair.
“I just confirmed it with my lead counsel,” Voss said, his voice low and tight. “You hold seventy-four percent of Ashford Freight. The Ghost.”
“I do,” I said, resting my hands in my pockets.
“Your mother has no idea, does she?”
“Neither does my father, nor my sister,” I said evenly.
Voss took a deep breath, adjusting his silk tie. “Larkfield is in a fragile transition period. We value our long-standing relationship with Ashford Freight. I’m asking you, as a matter of professional courtesy and family discretion, to extend our credit terms for another ninety days. And I need your word that you won't raise concerns about the CEO capital requirement to your sister.”
I looked at him, feeling a cold, clean anger settle behind my ribs. “You’re forcing a thirty-two-year-old first-time CEO to dump two hundred thousand dollars of her personal life savings into a company whose logistics provider is about to cut them off for non-payment.”
“It’s standard executive equity participation,” Voss countered smoothly, though his eyes betrayed his desperation. “If she believes in the company, she should have skin in the game. If you pull Ashford’s services now, Larkfield collapses, and your sister’s career is destroyed before it begins. You hold her future in your hands, Ms. Hayes.”
“No, Mr. Voss,” I said softly, stepping closer to the desk. “You placed her head on the block to buy yourself another month of liquidity. You gave her a title so she would write a check.”
“If you tell her, if you burn this deal down, she gets nothing,” Voss warned, his voice hardening into a threat. “And your family will blame you for ruining her moment.”
May you like
I looked at the framed family photographs sitting on my father’s desk—pictures of Skyler graduating college, Skyler winning high school track meets, Skyler at her first corporate internship. There were no pictures of my shop, no pictures of my warehouse, no pictures of the work I had built with my own hands.
“I don’t take business advice from men who hide behind thirty-two-year-old shields,” I said, and walked out of the study, leaving him alone in the dark room.
