“How am I helping?”
“The last few times I went to see her I started talking about you and how close we had become. She was thrilled when I told her how comfortable… how happy I was, and that you seemed happy with me. When I told her you were carrying our child she was over the moon with joy. Would you like to meet her?”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ve applied to have her guardianship transferred from my father to me. I asked the psychiatrist in charge of her file to do a complete review of her current status. Hopefully, I can get her released sooner rather than later.”
“Won’t Thomas help with that?”
“I don’t know. He has a lot of guilt about what happened to both of us. I think he had good intentions, but no idea how to execute them. He messed up my mother, and I coped by putting a shell around myself. Then he messed up your life, ruining your marriage. I don’t think that he wanted to hurt any of us but simply didn’t bother considering what other people thought or needed. He focused on a goal, and everything or anyone else be damned.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I confess that I’m happy he got us together. I can’t deny how much I love you, how much I need to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m thrilled to have you, despite the unhappiness losing your family has caused you. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Albert, I’m almost fifteen years older than you.”
He wrapped his arms around me. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
I reciprocated. “Make love with me. Make me yours.”
“You are already mine,” he whispered as he started to undress.
“Let’s put the IPO out of our thoughts for the day,” Albert told all the executives, including his father. He had summoned our top people to a nine a.m. Monday meeting. “We’ll gather back here at four-thirty to update each other on what’s happening with the IPO. In the meantime, we have a pharmaceutical business to operate.”
“That’s the first time my son has ever taken charge like that. I’m so proud, and I owe it to you.” Thomas touched his foot to mine under our conference table.
We all re-convened at the scheduled time. There were no updates on the IPO. Albert related that when he called Candy, she said she’d let them know when anything significant happened. Essentially it was a ‘don’t call me; I’ll call you’ message.
Tuesday, Wednesday there was the same news: nothing. On Thursday Candy told Thomas that it would be worthwhile if I was sent to New York, the real New York, to persuade Marcia Jones, the head of Greenrock Capital to invest.
“Why me?”
“You’re a woman. Marcia’s reported to be a bitter feminist. She’ll be much more receptive to you. Should I set it up? I’ll try to get you in and out on the same day.”
I wasn’t enthusiastic, especially as I was experiencing occasional bouts of morning sickness. Still, it had to be done. Tuesday morning I was on an early flight to Newark. Tuesday at one I was sitting at the desk of one of the most powerful women in corporate America.
“I don’t know why Ms. Ortega insisted that you come here to discuss your IPO, Mrs. Sanborn. I told her quite clearly that there was no way I would invest.”
“If there’s no way, then why did you agree?”
“We have an employee in Nicaragua rotting in one of their miserable jails on trumped-up drug charges. She said if I met you he could be home within days.”
I tried to digest the implications of her answer. “But if you’re not investing–”
“She doesn’t need me to invest. Candy Ortega just wants to create the appearance of interest. She doesn’t give a damn about advancing the IPO.”
“But… but…”
“Let me get you a glass of water. You look like you’re going to pass out.” She led me to a couch.
The water calmed me down. “Okay, so let’s put Candy aside. First Pharmaceuticals is a strong business, with deep roots and decades of experience.”
“First Pharmaceuticals was founded by Matthew Firsten. He and his son were brilliant, motivated and trustworthy businessmen. His grandson Thomas, not so much. Thomas’ son Albert, who will eventually take over the reins… well there are questions about him.”
I tried to keep myself calm. “Look at our prospectus. Look at the numbers. They speak for themselves.”
Marcia pulled a newsletter from the top of her desk and handed it to me. “I pay three-hundred and fifty dollars a month to subscribe to the SCK Investment Newsletter. Look at the bottom left of the page, at the table of pending Initial Public Offerings. Do you see yours? It’s in the “Intensely Dislike” column.”
I didn’t see it. I was staring at the cute printed doodle at the top of the newsletter, a doodle I saw every day of my married life. Arnold scrawled it whenever he had a pen, paper, and a moment to relax. SCK was a weird name for a newsletter. It seems he didn’t want to spell out “Sarah Caroline Kevin.”
“The top investors in America all subscribe to this newsletter, and we follow its advice religiously. I’m sorry to break this to you, but First Pharmaceutical’s IPO is going to crash and burn.”
“I can’t believe that one newsletter has so much influence.”
“Believe it. There’s intense competition to be allowed to subscribe. The owner says he’s limiting it to five hundred copies. It’s printed on special paper that can’t be photocopied, and sent out by Federal Express. No one knows who the author is.”
I knew. I understood everything now, especially why Arnold was so against my participation in this project. He tried to protect me from my own arrogance. He failed.
I realized that I also failed: as a mother, as a wife, as a businesswoman. I fainted.
I woke to a paramedic kneeling beside me, taking my pulse while holding a stethoscope to my belly.
“Both of you are okay. You have to avoid stress. Next time you faint it may not be on a plush sofa.”
I nodded my thanks and sat up.
“I asked one of my analysts to take a closer look at First Pharmaceuticals while we were meeting. We’ve just met, Sarah but I’m telling you as a friend to jump ship. Find another job. Get rid of any shares and stock options.”
“I can’t. We’re in the SEC lock-up period. I can’t do anything with my shares.”
“Oh, right.” She sighed. “They really have you by the balls.”
“If I had balls I wouldn’t be in this situation. If I had balls I wouldn’t–” I stopped myself. I barely knew this woman and shouldn’t tell her such personal matters.
“Does your husband know?”
She was sharp, extrapolating the truth of my pregnancy from limited data. I had plenty of data along with expert advice from my husband, but couldn’t see the truth about the IPO.
She picked up another paper from her desk. “Our leadership analyst says that Thomas Firsten is driven, doesn’t pay attention to the consequences of his actions, and has a difficult time recognizing women as more than instruments to use.”
“Yes, that sounds accurate.”
Marcia shook her head. “I won’t ask you any more about your personal situation. It seems I know more about your business situation than you. I hope you didn’t invest too much of your own assets.”
I sat forlornly on the sofa. Marcia came over and handed me her business card. “Let me know how you’re doing. Maybe I’ll be able to help. I won’t say you’ve been deliberately conned by the Firstens. They may have conned themselves, and everyone around them is suffering the consequences.”