“You did.” I smirk. “It’s still nice to hear.”
I open the door and walk in effectively cutting Ramses off. He recovers fast, becoming another version of himself; one that I’m not familiar with. He locks down his presence, he tampers his scent and what I see has my stomach dipping unexpectedly. But Ramses stops moving towards Allan and comes back to me.
“Don’t do that. You get every part of me, but no one else does.” He’s whisper quiet as he talks, soothing and reassuring me like my welfare is his only concern. He waits until I nod slightly before he swings back to face Allan.
My eyes move to Allan. He’s standing up looking intently at our interaction, his face impartial although when he looks at Ramses it falls away, and my father actually sizes him up. In his own way.
“Allan, this is Ramses,” I say, opting for an abridged version of the truth. And I purposely kept my introduction informal since we’re not here to discuss my father and his endless accomplishments.
Ramses steps closer, but nods instead of offering a hand to shake, reading the room better than most people in Allan’s world. Allan though closes the distance and offers his hand. The gesture is over before it starts, and I read hidden meaning into it because there is.
I sit back. Ramses sits on the other side of me without even going near Margot’s seat. Allan doesn’t miss what he does and much like the handshake, Ramses choice of seat is equally telling.
“Shall we get started?” Allan asks, sitting up straighter.
And in Allan’s mind there’d be no need to check again that I was okay because I already said I was.
He slides over a one-page document. I pull it closer, and Ramses leans forward. He’s subtle in his movements, but I don’t miss his hand that he wants to place on my leg. Instead, he clasps his hands on the table to remove the temptation.
“Did Douglas draft this for you?” I ask after reviewing the overly simple agreement.
“He has a style I like. But in this instance no, and that is only because I couldn’t afford accusations of Conflict of Interest or anything else along those lines. He did recommend someone he has worked with.”
“Why now?” I sit back on my seat. “It seems a strange move, especially in light of my imminent packing with Lowly.”
“And that is still occurring?” Allan asks, and his eyes immediately move to Ramses.
“Yes,” Ramses answers quickly before adding, “Of course I have a preference that Heidi doesn’t have to pursue packing with Lowly. At the same time, I’m confident if she does, the Deed all parties have already signed provides her more than enough opportunities for her to do what she wants.”
Allan takes a sip of his coffee as he seems to reread his offer of selling me his shares for Verdune. I suspect though he’s just doing another mental rerun of the Deed in question, plus Ramses input.
“I have always offered Heidi my full support, and that continues. To answer your question, Heidi, selling you my shares gives you an almost 51% of Verdune company shares. The Board is easy: replace every sitting member. The Shareholders are where you will face difficulty. But now you’ll be in the position of unilaterally passing any ordinary resolution with or without Board and shareholder support.”
It’s a huge move. Highly aggressive in that he’s removing the usual requirement of majority voting essentially returning all the power to one person.
Beside me, Ramses hums, and both Allan and I turn our focus to him.
“I’ve been a shareholder in Verdune for a long time. My parents actually set up trusts for me and my siblings and when we came of age the management was handed over to me as the eldest. On their death, their estate held a few surprises but all in all, I am confident within a couple of hours, I would be in the position to rally further support.”
“That’s an impressive claim,” Allan says, his voice cooling off as he internalises Ramses’ news.
“It is. It matches your impressive daughter.”
“What was your surname?” Allan asks.
“Denali,” Ramses offers.
And in doing so he removes the potential for him to fade into inconsequence.
“My recall suggests you only own seven percent,” Allan counters, his head tipping slightly in challenge.
Ramses nods. “True. But I’ve been telling a lot of my friends about what a good investment Verdune is. Honestly, my calculation of support would be close to another eighteen percent.”
“You need to be very careful of insider trading.” Allan’s mood drops.
“Heidi has never been involved in any discussion I have had with my ‘friends’ on the sale or purchase of shares. I have a broker, and he has been extremely busy recently with requests from other people looking for high yield returns. Verdune is only one company they have spread their buy over. There is no way anything can come back to Heidi. I made sure of it. And the shares my associates and I have managed to acquire hasn’t happened overnight. Everyone has been growing their portfolio slowly, over a few years.”
Allan is getting more protective with each word Ramses says.
