The Room Where It Happens

May 18, 2020. The Rothschild Residence.

Hanna Maria and Edouard de Rothschild live in a thirty million dollar Beverly Hills country house that looks like it’s been lifted straight out of a Disney movie, towering spires and all. The kid working the door offers to valet my motorcycle. I shrug off my helmet and pass it to him, and a second later, he’s revving off to the garage with an ear-splitting grin.

“Alec has way too much fun at his job,” Hanna Maria says with a soft smile, seemingly emerging from nowhere.

She’s wearing a satin dress the colour of the sky, the soft material closely hugging her curves, showing off her natural hourglass figure. Her jewellery today is gold—a thin gold choker, a golden armband, a gold-leaf headband, but, I notice, no ring on her finger.

“Join me inside?” she asks, offering me a delicate hand. Even her nails are done with a faint gold polish.

“It would be my pleasure,” I say, taking her hand, following her into the yawning dark entrance of her residence.

“Edouard is out today, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk business,” she says.

Her hand still holding mine, she guides me through the heavy corridors of the house, the suits of ancient armour lining the halls creating an imposing presence that follows us wherever we go.

“Is business all that we’re going to talk about?” I ask.

We come to a stop in a room dominated by an old map of the Middle East hanging from the wall. Candles burn from the chandelier above, casting our strange shadows somewhere over Afghanistan.

“Perhaps not,” Hanna Maria says. “Tea?”

There’s a fresh pot steaming on the wooden vanity table, alongside two cups and saucers.

“Gladly,” I say, accepting a cup from her as she completes the pour.

We settle into two cozy armchairs facing one another, and I sip from the cup appreciatively.

“Tell me about what happened between you and the Najbreits. How did you fall out?” Hanna Maria asks.

“Tiffany Fucking Najbreit went ahead and raised the price to two billion dollars,” I say, feigning frustration as I place my teacup back onto the saucer with a hard clink. “I was the voice of prudence on the team. They were all so hungry for the deal that they lost track of how much the company was actually worth. It’s not worth two billion dollars. It’s not worth the one-point-four you bid for it. It’s worth a billion in your hands, and not a penny more.”

“It sounds like we’re on the same page,” Hanna Maria says with a smile. “I wouldn’t pay more than a billion for it, either.”

“So why’d you bid it above that?” I ask, curious.

“Because I know what you’ve had to learn the hard way,” Hanna Maria says. “The Najbreits don’t like to lose. They’ll pay more than they need to, if it means winning. So we raised the price to make them bleed.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“You hate them that much?”

“Not hate, not even that much dislike,” Hanna Maria says, shaking her head. “It’s simply gamesmanship. I know you come from some wealth, Claude, but the level that we play at…”

“Billions.”

I slump back in my chair, exhaling, giving that word the proper weight it deserves.

The confident sip of her tea seems to indicate that she’s bought my surprise.

“Well, I’m happy that you’re showing interest in the right side now. But I’m afraid this game has played out. The Najbreits are going to pay two billion, and that will be that.”

“The Najbreits don’t have two billion to throw at the deal,” I say quietly.

“There must be a bank that’s willing to—”

“You’re right, they could get the two billion, if they really wanted it. But their Father’s against it. Tiffany overstepped.”

“So the ball’s coming to our court soon,” Hanna Maria says. She pauses thoughtfully. “We’re fucked in that case.”

“You don’t have one-point-four billion, do you?” I ask in the most polite way possible.

“A billion would have basically broken the bank,” she admits. “So no. If they pass on the deal, we’re fucked. What are our options? Dig ourselves into another billion dollars of debt? That’s bad. But passing on the deal would be even worse. Our bluff would be called, and we’ve got other deals in the works—other portfolio companies doing interesting things—and the consequences would be dire. We’ve got no good options.”

Perfect. This is exactly what I wanted to hear.

I take a sip from my cup of tea, letting the hot bitterness languish on my tongue for a second.

“There is another option,” I say. “A joint venture.”

It’s Hanna Maria’s turn to exhale this time. She leans forwards, excited, unwittingly showing off a delicious amount of cleavage.

“STX has been playing us off against each other for so long, hiking their price so far beyond reasonable…”

“But what if you teamed up with the Najbreits? MGM and Lionsgate working together, a joint takeover of STX Studios,” I say, completing her thought.

“They’d have no power to negotiate. Nobody else is looking to buy their company. And if the Najbreits are on board to play with us, **** as they are with Tiffany’s blunder…”

I wince internally, hearing Tiffany’s calculated move called that. But I would have called it much the same just a week ago, and correcting Hanna Maria now would certainly be a mistake.

“Then you’ve got a real deal on your hands. You could buy a controlling stake in the company, without having to give up an arm and a leg for it.”

Hanna Maria laughs then, a long and candid thing that takes me by surprise.

“You’re a genius, Claude, and now I remember why I granted you that sum of money all those years ago.”

She walks up and kisses me on the lips, hard, and I return the kiss, breathing in her scent, the deep musk of chocolate parfum, her legs all of a sudden straddling up upon my lap, knocking the teacup and saucer onto the ground, where it shatters; we ignore it, I kiss her quick, hands running up her thighs, across the skin of her back, searching for the elusive straps that hold her dress up…

Hanna Maria pulls back, putting a hand on my chest.

“Before you go ahead and fuck my brains out… why don’t you take a few photos?”

“For old times sake?” I ask, grinning.

“Let’s call it that,” she smiles. “Make sure you get the eyes.”

She gets on all fours and I pull out my phone, snapping a photo of crawling up to me with a seductive wink on her face.