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Chapter 10

Rhea was starting to feel like the Parisian who had never been to the Eiffel Tower. She had never seen her company in quite the way she was seeing it today. She thought she had taken Roberts to every room in the Celestial building with the exception of the women's restrooms, and she wouldn't have been too surprised if he had asked to see those. She was aware of her toes now, too; ten individual little beacons of unhappiness, hemmed in by her shoes. Rhea was of the firm opinion that toes should stay incommunicado unless they were immersed in lush green grass, or were being sucked on by a thoughtful friend. This was definitely neither case, and she wondered briefly if she could come up with some logical reason to ban shoes from the building without seeming too strange to trust with other people's money.

To prevent static buildup maybe, or as a requirement from some Japanese investors.

No, probably not.

Roberts was still going strong. He insisted on sticking his head into every office, and asking questions of whomever he found there. Some of those questions were amazingly perceptive, and showed a detailed knowledge of the person's career or field. Others struck Rhea as asinine: he asked Jan how she felt about WordPerfect, and asked Marketing's opinion about the president's new budget. She soon realized, though, that he was learning an awful lot. Maybe more than she really wanted him to. As the afternoon wore on, she tried several times to guide him up to her office, but he always wanted to make just one more stop. The man was indefatigable—Rhea was too, but she wanted out of those shoes and she did have paperwork that had to be done. Of course, she reminded herself, if Roberts didn't like what he saw, there wouldn't be any need to finish the paperwork.

Finally he let her lead him back upstairs.

"Make yourself comfortable," Rhea said. "The couch isn't bad."

Roberts seated himself, and looked out over Burden Creek. "Nice view," he said.

It was, but Rhea was still in no mood to appreciate it. "So, Mr. Roberts," she asked, "what do you think about my company?"

"That's a fair question." Roberts crossed left ankle over right knee and leaned back. He laced his fingers together and tucked them behind his head. It was the classic male-spreading-out-and-claiming-territory gesture. He wanted to convince her that she needed to listen to him. Subconsciously, he was trying to establish dominance. She kept her smile to herself. She wondered if he even knew he was doing it. He said, "All right then. Here's my answer. You've got a company of top-notch, dedicated people, all of whom want very much for your enterprise to succeed. Most of them are very worried that it won't. I think, Ms. Samuels, that your company is worth investing in, and that you need that investment a lot more today than when you set up this appointment."

"That's true," Rhea admitted, "I won't pretend it isn't, but by the same token, the return to TRITEL goes up with your investment."

"If you succeed."

"When we succeed," Rhea said fiercely. She stood up and walked to the window.

"I think there's a good possibility," Roberts conceded. "Anything that can keep people like Halloran interested for two years is a good bet—or at least an intriguing bet. How much do you need?"

"Three hundred million," Rhea said immediately. Roberts got up and joined her. He stared out the window silently for several minutes, and Rhea thought she'd overplayed her hand. Maybe they could have scraped by on two hundred. But that would take longer, and time was the most precious thing in the world. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "Well, Mr. Roberts?" she said, "It'll be the best bargain your company ever got. Do we have a deal?"

Roberts turned and looked her in the eyes. "I like impatient people," he said. "They get things done."

 

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Framed