The Big Leagues

May 20. The Elevators Up to the STX Studio Offices.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” I tell Tiffany. “Hanna Maria told me that her husband loves the idea. We’ve got Lionsgate on board, so all we’ve got to do is walk into that conference room and wipe that cocky smile off Bob Simond’s ugly mug.”

“Yeah…” Tiffany says, sounding very unconfident. She looks to the side, at her reflection in the mirror. “I couldn’t look at him straight last time. Couldn’t think of anything but how… what Father said I’d have to…”

“Just another reason for us to get back at him someday,” I say, giving her a reassuring hug from the side.

She smiles weakly at me.

The elevator dings as we reach our floor, and we make our way towards the Pandora Room for the last time.

Edouard claps my back as I enter the room.

“So you like to play dirty, do you?” he says, the French-lilted voice catching me off guard.

“Dirty?” I ask, glancing at him.

“I saw the pictures,” he says, smiling. He tilts his head upwards up a fraction, a gesture of respect. “Very nicely done. My wife had a good time.”

“So did I,” I chuckle, nodding back at him.

He claps my back again and returns to his seat, sipping from his coffee after a quick kiss on the lips with his wife.

“You ready for this?” Claire asks me as I take a seat next to her.

“Feels like I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life,” I say.

Tiffany shoots me a glance, as if to say Don’t play with fire. She’s scared I’ll let something split, but I’m feeling like a million bucks. No, not a million, a billion bucks. That’s the right number.

Hanna Maria, sitting across the table, flashes me a wide smile, while Mandy merely folds her arms over her chest.

Bob Simonds flings open the door then and marches into the room, surrounded by eight of his cronies on the board, his lawyer and his banker, pompous fuckers all dressed in ten-thousand dollar suits. The men have all got cravats on today, and they circle around the table in a slow walk, before they come to a stop behind our chairs, standing tall like imposing watchmen. Bob takes his seat alone on his side of the table, propping engorged foot after foot onto the wood. I notice that Eric Simonds has joined the posse today. Tiffany keeps her gaze fixed straight ahead as he looms behind her, his hands resting on the back of her seat, some putrid smug look resting on his face.

“So,” Bob Simonds says, after taking a prolonged sip of his coffee. “The Najbreits say they’ve come to a decision. Let’s hear it, shall we?”

He looks over to Mandy expectantly.

She looks back at him stony-faced.

Something like a smile plays upon her lips.

I almost expect her to speak then, to say that she’s going to front the two billion dollars, just to fuck me over some more, but she shrugs, instead.

“Claude’s got something to say,” she says.

“The little artist has something to say? Well come on, let’s hear it then,” he says, lips drawn up into a sneer as he swivels in his chair just a fraction to look me in the eye.

“We’ve come to a decision. It’s not one of the two that was brought up at our last meeting. This will be a joint takeover between MGM Studios and Lionsgate Studios. STX Studios will be bought out for a price of one billion dollars. We’ll pay six hundred million, they’ll pay four hundred, for an equal fifty/fifty stake. Nobody else is looking to buy your shitty company; it’s a fair price, don’t try to protest. All board members will get the compensation discussed in our last meeting. This is the final offer. Take it or leave it. It was a pleasure doing business.”

My words have their intended effect.

I see Eric Simonds’ hands whiten around the back of Tiffany’s chair, I see the confident bravado on the faces of those STX board members falling away as they throw anxious glances at each other, I see confusion and greed and fear.

They came in today ready to accept a two billion dollar valuation. They’ll walk away with half that. But they’ll take it. They’re being paid more than their fair share for it.

Antony Vinciquerra, standing behind me, is the first to speak. I don’t turn to look at him as he does.

“I don’t see a problem in principle with that, it’s—”

“It’s more than fair,” Giselle Pritkzer, behind Hanna Maria, jumps in and says. “Provided, of course, that Lionsgate is actually on board?”

“We’re on board,” Edouard de Rothschild says, smiling at me once more.

With that, the other members of the STX board slowly begin to nod, signalling their agreement. They’re not losing anything out of this deal, the cowards, because they’re still getting their fat pay-check at the end of the day.

“Then we’ve got more than two-thirds of the board behind this deal, is that right?” Giselle says, looking around the room at her compatriots. “A quick show of hands, to see who agrees?”

Nine hands instantly go up, Giselle’s included. Eric Simonds’ joins theirs a second later, his knuckles still white.

There’s only one member of the board without his hand raised.

Bob Simonds lights up a fat cigar and chews on it thoughtfully. He takes his time, slowly exhaling a thick ring of smoke, looking at each member of the board in turn, ending with his son. He shakes his head, and then abruptly smashes the end of the cigar on the table.

“I call this a waste,” he says, pointing at the smouldering mess on the wood table. “What I’m about to do is a waste, too. But sometimes we’ve got to do hard things in life. STX Studios is my company. I built it. It’s not being sold for a billion dollars.”

He holds up a hand, as Giselle looks like she’s about to interrupt him.

“Yes, you have the votes to overrule me, yada yada, very nice. But here’s the thing—I know you folks. You’re just doing this for the money, not because you relish the thoughts of these corporate raiders controlling my company. So let’s talk in terms you understand. All those millions of dollars that the Najbreits are offering you? I’ll match those payouts, and then some. But only if you vote to stay. This is my company. I decide when it gets sold.”

There’s a pause as he lights up another cigar.

“So, shall we take that vote again? A show of hands for you traitors who want to hand my company over to those people?”

He waves his cigar at us and the Rothschilds.

This time, no hands go up.

A chill descends down my spine.

It’s simply gamesmanship, Hanna Maria’s words echo in my head.

I thought I had this in the bag.

“It’s over,” Mandy laughs.

She shoots me a dark look, picks up her purse, and leaves the room.

The Rothschilds and their team follow out soon after her. Edouard claps my back as he heads out. Hanna Maria doesn’t even look at me.

The other Najbreits and our banker leave after. I notice Tiffany ducking out from under Eric Simond’s hands massaging her shoulders, a small shudder running through her body. She shoots me a sad look over her shoulder as she heads out.

I alone am transfixed in my seat.

I sit alone in the room, facing down the entire STX Board. Bob Simonds chews on the end of his cigar.

“You thought you were ready to join the big leagues, didn’t ya, son?” he says.

Then, he laughs and shoos me out of the room like a pesky fly.