The Aspen Account (11 page)

“Clear skies from here to New York.”

“Good—I’m glad there’s at least one thing on this trip that I can count on going smoothly.” 

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Oh, nothing. The people I’m meeting in New York . . . Let’s just say I’d rather be vacationing in Siberia. Here’s a little free advice: don’t ever try to prevent a multibillion-dollar corporate takeover—you wouldn’t believe the number of enemies you can make.”

Seaton had planned to read more of the background material on the Cygnus proposal once they got in the air. But as the jet accelerated across the runway and took off with the red sunset backlighting the mountainous horizon, he felt suddenly small and alone amid such majesty. And he wondered whether he still had enough fight in him for one last battle.

18

FRIDAY MORNING, MICHAEL went to work at X-Tronic feeling an overwhelming languor that seemed to slow and diffuse his concentration. He was already a half hour late, but he didn’t care. Yesterday’s trip to the mountains had only added to the weight on him, which he felt almost as a physical burden. Both Andrea and Dustin were busy working. Everything seemed loud and busy in his ears. He was tired and desperately ready for the weekend to begin.

The morning passed with a slow dreaminess. Managing to gather a little energy by lunchtime, he threw himself back into his work. Even Andrea and Dustin noticed that his energy had returned. They even had to take down his order for lunch because he didn’t want to take a few minutes to run down to the corporate deli.

Once the two staffers left the room with his order for a turkey and Swiss on pumpernickel, his work so completely consumed him that he missed the first knock on the conference room door.

“Mr. Chapman?” a voice asked.

Michael looked up to find the Seaton twins in the doorway. He wondered how long they had been there watching him.

“Lance and Lucas Seaton,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve seen you around the office but haven’t had the pleasure. I’m Michael Chapman, the new senior on the engagement.”

“Yes,” said Lucas. “It’s terrible what happened to Kurt. I hope things are coming along well.”

“Isn’t it a bit . . . I don’t know . . .
awkward
to come into the middle of an engagement on such short notice?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, how does something like this affect the quality of the audit?” Lucas added. “I can’t imagine it’s all that efficient to change the engagement team in the middle of the job.”

Michael held his tongue. He had heard stories about the cold superiority the twins could lord over people, but he still had to resist the urge to confront them. He had wanted to say,
Next time we’ll try to do a better job of scheduling our audit personnel on jobs that don’t conflict with their deaths
. But he was speaking to the client, so he kept his response more politic. “No need to worry. In fact, we’re ahead of schedule.”

“Have you noticed any problems? Any issues we should know about?” Lance asked.

“Nothing major,” Michael lied. “We have about forty small audit adjustments so far, but that’s not unusual for a corporation this large.”

The twins separated and moved around the sides of the conference table, exuding the confident patience of predators that had cornered their quarry. Casually Michael minimized his computer window before they reached his side, to hide the document he was preparing. He had been warned not to let them know what he was working on.
Speak to them only in generalities,
Glazier had told him.
Never specifics. Keep them curious, and they’ll be forced to bring you into their circle.

Lance’s eyes scanned the room as if looking for something specific. “We just stopped by to see how everything’s going. We’re glad things seem to be coming along.”

“At this point, as well as they can be,” Michael assured them.

“What are you working on now?” said Lance.

“Oh, just reviewing some workpapers, getting things organized. You know how it is.”

Lucas grinned. “I’m glad we caught you before the weekend.”

“Yes,” Lance continued. “We’re having a bit of a party this Saturday at our father’s estate in Aspen. A group of people will be up for the weekend, and we wanted to invite you as well.”

“You’re inviting me to your father’s house for the weekend?” Michael asked, unable to hide his astonishment. 

“It’s a party. There’s going to be about four hundred people there. Most are from Aspen, but we’re inviting a few dozen up from Denver as well.”

“Yes,” said Lance, picking up the conversation from his brother, “but we only have room to board those from Denver. The Aspen crowd is on its own, but we’ll have room on the property for you to stay.”

“A party in Aspen
this
weekend?” He was still befuddled.

“Saturday night,” Lance said.

“Well, yes, of course—I’d love to,” he confessed, trying to keep some modicum of composure. He was thinking as much of Glazier as of himself. The party could be just the thing for getting answers to some of his questions. And Glazier had wanted him to get closer to the twins in case they might put him onto the money trail he was trying to follow.

“And please, feel free to bring a friend if you’d like,” Lucas added.

The comment sparked another idea in Michael’s head—another opportunity. “I think I will,” he replied.

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer,” said Lucas. “We know you’re busy.”

“Yes, well, thanks very much for the invitation. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“We’ll have someone e-mail you the invitation this evening.”

Michael thanked the twins, and they left the room as suddenly as they had appeared. The heavy glass door closed slowly behind them. Once they were out of sight, he stepped toward the corner window, as far as possible from the door, and speed-dialed Sarah Matthews.

19

DON SEATON TAPPED his index finger on the large rosewood conference table on the second floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Expansive windows looked out on New York’s financial district in lower Manhattan, while those opposite looked down on the vacant trading floor of the exchange. Seaton looked out at the financial district, the seat of an endless cycle of transferring wealth, run by ambitious men and women. It was a world determined to change faster than society could control it, so that the masses had little choice but to react to the decisions of the few. It was a world with a short attention span, quickly bored, always hungry for more—a world that couldn’t have been further from the reclusive lifestyle Seaton had chosen more than two decades ago when he built the huge chalet on his isolated estate outside Aspen. But as with so many men who retired to the mountains, his ambitions had been formed by an earlier life in the energetic, chaotic city. New York had been his first home, and it had taught him most of the lessons that he carried with him still.

The masters of finance sat around the table: Randle Cuttingham, the NYSE chairman; Todd Farrell, the U.S. trade commissioner; Richard Donnelly, economic adviser for the Securities and Exchange Commission; and Fredrick Kavanaugh, CEO and Chairman of Cygnus International. Both Kavanaugh and Seaton were accompanied by legal counsel from their corporations. The meeting had been called to discuss preliminary responses to Cygnus’s acquisition bid for X-Tronic’s common stock and to thresh out any antitrust issues that were likely to result from a merger. The meeting was being held one month before the highly anticipated X-Tronic annual shareholders’ meeting in Denver.

“Mr. Seaton? Excuse me, Mr. Seaton?”

He looked up from the table to find the trade commissioner looking at him. “I’m sorry, Todd. Could you please repeat the question?”

“Mr. Seaton, I was hoping to get your initial reaction to the proposed acquisition.”

“There isn’t going to be any acquisition,” Seaton proclaimed.

“Come on, Don,” Kavanaugh interposed. “If the shareholders of X-Tronic vote to accept the generous offer my company is making, we will all walk away rich.”

“I’m already rich.”

“
Richer,
then,” Kavanaugh corrected himself. “X-Tonic’s software products would compliment Cygnus’s products. It will strengthen our competitive position in the market and expand our customer base. Everyone wins with the acquisition, Don.”

Seaton shook his head. “What you’re trying to create is dangerously close to a monopoly. Research and development in the industry will suffer because of decreased competition. Innovation will lag. Massive layoffs at X-Tronic will be inevitable. The results of Cygnus’s previous acquisitions are well documented, Fred. You assimilate your target acquisitions into Cygnus, destroying every shred of independence in their entrepreneurial spirit. This is something I’m not going to let you do to X-Tronic.”

Kavanaugh’s wide mouth puckered, as if he had just tasted something sour. His dark, shifty eyes scanned the other faces at the table almost as if he expected someone else to protest in his defense. No one did.

“You’re missing the big picture,” Kavanaugh said, returning his gaze to Seaton. “We’re talking about massive international expansion of our companies’ operations.”

Richard Donnelly leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Technological innovation and ongoing deregulation have driven the globalization process by tearing down barriers. A merger of this size would have a dramatically positive effect on the economy.”

“Dr. Donnelly,” Seaton said with a sigh, “I respect your understanding of economic theories, but with all due respect, the merger would have a dramatically
negative
effect on X-Tronic’s workforce.”

Donnelly shook his head. “A key element of the U.S. economy is a flexible labor market. Short-term layoffs from inefficient or obsolete jobs are good for the economy in the long term. In other words, your employees will find new jobs.”

“That is not acceptable,” Seaton replied. “I have a responsibility to all fifty thousand employees at X-Tronic.”

“You have a responsibility to the X-Tronic
shareholders,
” Kavanaugh retorted. “In any event, I don’t think your shareholders will join in your efforts to prevent the merger.”

Seaton stood up from the table and shuffled some analyst reports into his leather portfolio. “Fred, you’re forgetting that even though I’m not a majority shareholder of X-Tronic any longer, I still have thirty percent ownership in the company—and a great deal of influence with both our board of directors and our shareholders. I built X-Tronic from the ground up, and I’m not going to let you take control of it. Now, please excuse me, gentlemen. It’s obvious to me that this meeting is over.”

Taking one last look to survey the disappointed faces around the table, his eyes met Kavanaugh’s. The man’s arrogance made Seaton dislike him more now than ever before in their long, adversarial history. Even as Seaton left the table, he knew he was taking a risk walking away from the meeting. He had much to do if he wanted to save his company.

He found Marcus waiting for him in the hallway, and together they walked toward the grand marble staircase and the looming chaos waiting below.

Lance and Lucas Seaton sat drinking their Singha beers in the Gold Room of the Geiberstein ski lodge, overlooking the base of Aspen Mountain. The VIP dining room was the premiere place for intermission luncheons amid the day’s skiing and snowboarding. It was one of the many places in Aspen where the rich and famous could be seen.

The region hadn’t had a decent snowfall in over a week, but the high altitude and low temperatures had maintained the slopes’ sixty-inch base. The flow of skiers and snowboarders riding up in the chair lifts and flying down the mountain created an endless bustle of activity in and out of the lodge.

The waiter returned to the twins’ table with their papaya salad with crab, tiger prawns, and grilled squid encircled with tangy limes, sweet coconut, and lemongrass. They ordered another round of Thai beers.

“You know Dad’s going to try to stop the merger,” Lucas said after inspecting his salad.

“He won’t succeed,” Lance replied.

“He doesn’t usually fail at things?”

“He’s doing it for all the wrong reasons—everyone will be against him.”

“Everyone’s been against him before, and he’s still prevailed.”

Lance chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “This time will be different. He’s getting old—he’s not the man he used to be.”

But Lucas didn’t feel as he imagined Lance did. For Lucas, it felt as if events were accelerating out of his control. He was surprised at the suddenly nostalgic turn his thoughts had taken in recent weeks. He had recalled that last happy summer in their youth, only months before their mother’s death, when they all learned to ride horseback. Their father had been so excited with the idea at first, he had a large stable built on the Aspen property. Their parents had even flown to Wyoming for a weekend to pick out the four horses they eventually bought from a top breeder. Lucas could remember with perfect detail the day the horses were delivered, when Lance and he had practiced posting and cantering under the trainer’s watchful eye while their beautiful mother and proud father looked on. Even their butler, Hopkins, whom he and Lance had always loved growing up, had stood at the back porch rail, applauding and calling, “Bravo!” and “Good show, lads!”

Lucas dipped a prawn in the saucer of coconut broth. He was silent for a moment. “Do you think he’ll be proud of us? When everything’s finished, do you think he’ll look back and be proud of what we’re about to accomplish?”

“How would I know what he thinks?”

“Aw, come on, Lance, you must have thought about it.”

“All right, then. No, I don’t think he’ll be proud. But fuck ’im. We both know he would have done the same thing when he was our age. Hell, he practically
did.
He ran out all his business partners to gain control of X-Tronic. Then he abandoned us after Mom died. He’s not the saint people think he is.”