Nolan stepped back, studying the board. “So your investment drops from nineteen million to...”
“Five and a half million total,” I grinned. “Real estate leverage and SBA loans get me there. The math finally works.”
“Because you’re not shouldering it alone.”
“Exactly,” I pulled up the ownership breakdown. “Oliver retains twelve percent, sells thirty-eight. Casey gets fifteen, Tabitha twelve, employee collective three, Lennon three, Dom and Enzo three. I take two percent for fifty-two total.”
“Why stop at fifty-two?” Nolan glanced over. “You could take more.”
“I don’t need control. I need partners I trust,” I shrugged. “Fifty-two gives me majority for operations, tiebreaker when we deadlock. But it forces consensus on major decisions. Collaboration, not just ownership percentage.”
“Spread the burden.”
“Spread the burden,” I nodded.
Nolan was grinning now. “Your financial advisor teach you that?”
“You did. About three hours ago,” I gestured at the ranch beyond the window with a wry smile. “Watching how you and Luke and Elowyn make decisions. Everyone has real authority in their area, you coordinate but you don’t control. That’s what I want to build.”
He turned back to the whiteboard, adding the employee collective. “Three percent split forty-nine ways, that’s about twenty-seven thousand per person average?”
“Mix of savings, small business loans, 401k rollovers. Way more accessible than the original numbers I was running.” I pulled up the employee roster. “Take out the four who are becoming partners, leaves forty-nine in the collective. They get literal ownership stake in protecting what we’ve built.”
“Makes acquisition nearly impossible,” Nolan drew arrows between stakeholder groups. “Someone would have to convince you, Casey, Tabitha, Oliver, and your employees who don’t want to lose their jobs. Plus Dom and Enzo and Lennon who aren’tmotivated by profit. That’s seven different parties with completely different priorities who’d all have to agree.”
“Titan would have to offer so much money that even the mission-driven stakeholders couldn’t say no. Which means they’d have to value us higher than we’re worth just in financials.” Protective fire settled in my chest. “Good luck with that.”
Nolan set down the marker and turned to me completely. “What about the strategic partnerships? Foxtail Creative and the indie consortium?”
“Additional revenue streams, one and a half to two and a half million annually from Foxtail, another one to two million from consortium projects.” I was already sketching implementation timeline on the empty side of the board. “Makes the whole structure more valuable, provides stability, reduces dependence on major studio contracts. Gives employees cross-training opportunities too, exposure to larger-scale work.”
“This is really good, Alex,” Nolan was studying the whiteboard, the complete picture we’d built over hours of stress-testing. “Really, really good. You’re not just solving the buyout, you’re building something that can’t be easily destroyed.”
“It’s what you taught me,” I shrugged. I looked at the organizational chart, the percentages and investment amounts and partnership structures. “Same principles as this ranch, just applied to animation and game development instead of livestock and hospitality.”
“You figured out how to make it yours, though. That’s the important part.” He started gathering papers, organizing the explosion of work we’d created. “We should probably get ready to head to dinner soon.”
Right. Dinner. With Elena. I’d been so lost in the solution I’d forgotten about everything else waiting outside this office.
I jumped as the door opened suddenly, Finn filling the frame and taking in the explosion of papers and whiteboard diagrams. His expression shifted from curious to impressed in the space of a breath.
“Did a business school explode in here?” He flashed a lopsided, though tired, grin.
I laughed, slightly manic from adrenaline. “We solved it. The buyout crisis, the whole impossible situation. I figured out how to structure everything so Oliver can retire, I keep majority control, and everyone who’s helped build Catalyst can have real ownership in its future.”
Finn moved into the room, his eyes scanning the whiteboard, tracking the organizational chart and the numbers and the arrows connecting everything together. “Employee ownership?”
“Partnership model, like your family has with the ranch,” I gestured at the structure, at the hours of work made visible in colored marker and printed spreadsheets. “Multiple tiers of investment and involvement, protection against acquisition built into the ownership structure, retirement transition for Oliver. Casey and Tabitha becoming actual partners.”
“That’s...” He stopped in front of the whiteboard, reading the percentages and investment breakdowns, “that’s incredible, darlin’. That amazing brain of yours.”
“Your dad helped me figure out the details,” I blushed at the pride in his voice. “Spent the last three hours stress-testing the financing structure, making sure the numbers actually hold up under scrutiny.”
“Happy to help,” Nolan beamed, stacking the papers on the corner of my desk. “But we should head to the restaurant. Bridget said Elena just got there. They’re all waiting on us.”
He squeezed my arm as he walked by, patting Finn on the shoulder before pulling the door closed behind him.
“How was your day?” I turned to Finn. He seemed less exhausted than yesterday, still tired but more present, more himself.
