The whiskey is costing fifty dollars a shot. We are on our third! “We have lost the confidence of the Board,” whines Jim “This is serious, we can be rolled, maybe even lose our annual bonuses,” he maffled into his Glenmorangie.
“I agree, Jim, it’s an absolute ‘cluster’, but I’ll be buggered if I saw it coming.” We hunker down morosely into our chesterfields, ice tinkling, both of us nursing glib thoughts, pondering how this has been allowed to happen.
“Obviously that stupid bloody decision to hold the Shareholder’s get together was very poorly timed, made worse by the decision not to insist on everyone wearing masks. Jees, we have two dead Board members, two in Intensive Care and three in iso. The AGM is nine weeks away, plus we have a motion to spill the Board. And we have nearly twenty hoi polloi nominating to fill the two, possibly four, vacancies!”
I shook my head, still incredulous that my three-week holiday absence had resulted in such an unmitigated disaster. The sacking of my deputy CEO had been the easy part. Undoing his handiwork was going to be tricky!
“I mean … well, old Hedley, jees he should’ve shuffled years ago – no loss, really, in the scheme of things. But David, our Chair – he’s a big loss and a strong supporter of us! Have we had any update from the hospital, about the others?” “Not so far.”
“Jim, you’re the Chief Finance Officer, it’s going to be your job to protect our bonuses. I can’t afford to lose this one, I promised Fiona a new red Alfa Sports, and Christmas in Rio. And the Portsea holiday shack, the wife still wants a pool installed.”
“We need a strategy” bleated Jim. “You’re the CEO, you’re the brains trust; imagine if some of those nominees get a seat. We don’t need any new eyes around the table. The ACCC were on our heels last year, and we don’t need them at the door again.”
“Righto, steady on Jim, don’t lose your cool. We need to be sharp and resolute, if we’re going to claw things back.” The donkeys nominating for the vacancies were my immediate concern, but I thought I could handle them, with a little judicious tampering of the ballot. Mmm, yes, that’ll work.
This morning’s emergency meeting has broken up in disarray. My plans for the shareholder vote has been rejected. I was bloody rolled, silly buggers, a bit of a slinging match across the mahogany. Fortunately I write the minutes and they will record an eventual endorsement of my strategy. It’s a slight brush with reality, but look, the ends justify…
The other issue is the merger. We each stand to make a motzer when it goes through. I have 100,000 preferential shares. Just a few more weeks!
Jim and I both notice the two, dark-suited guys walking through the lounge. They are out of place: the dark glasses and identical ties. They approached, meaningfully.