as a jet-setting playboy with that of a doting uncle.
“How old are they?”
“Beats me. The littlest one is…little. The oldest just started high school. I think.”
So much for the doting uncle!
“You’ll need a better fix on their ages if you plan to shop for Christmas gifts.”
“My executive assistant usually takes care of that,” Logan admitted. “She’ll have names, ages and personal preferences in her computer.”
Devon got the hint. A quick glance at her watch confirmed it was still early back at Logan Aerospace corporate headquarters in eastern Connecticut. She’d bet the boss’s executive assistant would be one of the first ones in, though. Luckily, Devon had added the woman’s phone number and e-mail to her personal-contacts list.
“I’ll e-mail her,” she said, digging in her purse for her iPhone. “By the time we get out of the meeting with Herr Hauptmann, she should be at work and have access to the information.”
With something less than enthusiasm, Devon worked the iPhone’s tiny keyboard. She’d counted on this trip to provide an escape from the shopping frenzy back home. Now she’d have to brave the nasty weather and wade into a mob of shoppers to help her client find gifts for a whole pack of nieces and nephews. Thank goodness she’d had enough experience with German and Austrian winters to have worn her warmest coat.
Hauptmann Metal Works was located southeast of the Old City, in a section of Dresden that had been reconstructed along depressingly modern lines.
Remnants of East Germany’s long domination by the Soviet Union showed in seemingly endless rows of concrete-block buildings. Some attempts had been made to soften their stark utilitarianism with newly planted parks and pastel color schemes, but the area held none of the old-world charm of other parts of the city.
Herr Hauptmann was awaiting their arrival. Big and beefy and ruddy cheeked, the German industrialist came out of his office to greet them. Devon had confirmed that he spoke fluent English, so she wasn’t required to translate as he shook hands with his visitor.
“Welcome, Herr Logan. I have been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you, sir. This is Ms. Devon McShay. She’s assisting me during my visit to Germany.”
“Ms. McShay.”
Devon had intended to make sure her client had everything he needed before fading into the woodwork with the other underlings, but Logan ushered her to a seat beside his at the long conference table.
Ten minutes of chitchat and a welcoming toast of schnapps later, she had plunged feet first into the world of high finance. The numbers Logan and Hauptmann lobbed back and forth like tennis balls left her breathless. They weren’t talking millions, but billions.
The main issue centered on the massive, joint-European venture to build the Airbus, touted as the world’s biggest passenger jet. A number of American companies were involved in it as well, including Logan Aerospace. Devon had to struggle to follow the discussion of the incredibly complex global aerospace industry. She grasped the bottom line, though, when Logan leaned forward an hour later and summed it up with surgical precision.
“We can argue the numbers all day, Herr Hauptmann, but we both agree your company is dangerously overleveraged. You borrowed heavily to hire additional people and invest in new production facilities to win your big Airbus contract. With Airbus behind schedule and facing major cost overruns, its potential customers are dropping like flies. You can go down with them, or you can accept my offer of a buyout, which will not only save your Airbus contracts, it will give you greater access to American aerospace giants like Boeing and Lockheed.”
“At a significantly reduced profit margin.”
“For the first three years, until we’ve recouped your investment outlay.”
The tension in the conference room was almost palpable.
“This company has been in my family for four generations, Herr Logan. It goes very much against my grain to relinquish control of it.”
Devon held her breath as the two men faced each other across the conference table. She saw no trace of the even-tempered client who’d shrugged off the irritations of travel delays and lost luggage in the steely eyed corporate raider who went straight for the jugular.
“You’ve already lost control, sir.”
Hauptmann’s ruddy cheeks took on an even darker hue. Devon gulped, hoping he didn’t have a stroke as Logan delivered the coup de grace.
“I know you’ve had a similar offer from one of my competitors, Templeton Systems. I don’t know the terms, of course, but I do know Templeton’s standard practice is to replace key managers at every level with their own people.”
The other executives present shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Logan swept a glance around the table before meeting their boss’s gaze again.
“I’m willing to work with you on a restructuring plan that will mesh the skills of your people with any of my own I decide to put in place.”
All eyes shifted to Hauptmann. Frowning, he worked his mouth from side to side for several moments.
“How long is this offer on the table?” he asked finally.
“I leave Dresden tomorrow for Berlin to finalize the financial arrangements. Then I plan to make a quick visit to the Airbus production plant in Hamburg before I fly back to the States on Friday. I’ll need your answer by then.”
“Very well. You shall have it.”
Wow! These guys played hardball. Five days to make a multibillion-dollar decision. Devon was impressed.
With a visible effort, Hauptmann shelved his company’s fate and played the gracious host. “What a shame you have only one night in our beautiful city. Our Boys’ Choir is giving a special Christmas performance at the opera house tonight. My wife and I would very much like for you to join us for the concert and a late dinner. And your lovely assistant, of course.”
Devon fully expected Logan to make a polite excuse. He’d been traveling for twenty-plus hours and had spent the brief respite in her room prepping for this meeting. Surely he wanted to crash.
Or not.
Showing no sign of the fatigue he must be feeling, Logan accepted the invitation.
“Excellent.” Hauptmann pumped his hand again and escorted him out of the office. “I’ll send a driver to pick you up at your hotel at seven.”
Devon waited until they were outside and in the limo to release a long breath. “Whew! That was pretty amazing. My father’s an accountant, so I’m used to hearing him throw around numbers. Never any as big as those, though. Do you think Herr Hauptmann will accept your offer?”
“We’ll know by Friday.”
He was so nonchalant about it. If she hadn’t just seen him going in for the kill, she might not have believed all those news articles Sabrina had found on the Web citing his lethal skills as a corporate raider.
