Free Stephen Frey by Trust Fund

call Jimmy Lee by the nickname J. L.
    â€œOh, I’m fine.” Laird frowned at Bo’s cigarette. He was a health nut who ran five miles a day and didn’t drink or smoke. “You’re the one in the hot seat, Bo. When are you leaving?”
    News traveled fast. “Why do you ask, Counselor? What part of my life has my father promised you?”
    â€œDon’t be emotional, Bo.” Laird was only a year older than Bo, but he dispensed paternal advice to all three Hancock brothers with regularity. “There is no place for emotion in business.”
    Bo counted to ten quietly, refraining from his first-instinct response. Laird was a powerful man within the empire and Bo needed every ally he could get. “I like numbers, but I can’t be purely analytical like you. I can’t accept what my father did to me yesterday.”
    â€œYou’ll be back,” Laird said quietly.
    Bo looked up at this small but encouraging comment. “You think so?”
    â€œYou’re too valuable. J. L. knows that.”
    â€œThanks for saying so.”
    â€œWhen are you leaving?”
    â€œJesus, Counselor, I—”
    â€œJ. L. has asked me to make certain arrangements to facilitate your transition away from Connecticut. I simply want to know how long I have.”
    Bo exhaled heavily. “I thought at first that it was going to be today,” he answered, watching the sun’s first rays glaze the lake’s surface. “But I’ve been given a one–day reprieve. Meg and I have until tomorrow to leave.”
    As Laird rose to go he dropped a copy of the
Daily News
on Bo’s lap. “You’ll be interested to read about your exploits of the other night in the Society section on page fifty-two.”
    Bo pushed the newspaper off his lap onto the ground. “So nice of you to stop by, Counselor.”
    Laird stopped when he reached the veranda door. “For what it’s worth, Bo, I told J. L. I thought it was a bad idea to turn Warfield over to Frank Ramsey.” Laird sidestepped Dale Stephenson, who was coming out onto the veranda, then ducked inside.
    â€œHi, Bo.” Dale Stephenson ran Warfield Capital’s private equity operation and reported directly to Bo. The private equity group negotiated the purchase of significant stakes in large nonpublic companies and bought divisions of Fortune 1000 companies usually in partnership with those divisions’ management teams. Over the last five years the private equity group had been one of Warfield’s most successful entities, consistently selling its investments at five to ten times the initial purchase price.
    Bo gestured for Stephenson to take the seat Laird had just vacated. “Thanks for coming out on such short notice.” Bo had awakened Stephenson at his Short Hills, New Jersey, home with a 4:00 A.M. telephone call. “Sorry for waking you up at such an ungodly hour.”
    â€œNo problem.” Stephenson was accustomed to Bo’s relentless work ethic. He assumed that Bo had identified another attractive investment opportunity for the private equity group. Bo’s referral network was immense and he was constantly sourcing opportunities before other investment groups did. In the private equity world you had to move quickly because the other groups had their networks as well and would ultimately find what you had found. The trick to the business was striking a deal with the management team or the young Internet entrepreneur before the other people arrived. “Got another deal for us?”
    Bo kicked at the early edition of the
Daily News.
“I wish.”
    Stephenson heard Bo’s dejection. “What’s wrong?”
    â€œI’m going away for a while, Dale.”
    â€œAway?”
    Bo shut his eyes. “I’m ‘taking a vacation,’ as Jimmy Lee so eloquently put it. He and Paul have decided that I’ve become a liability to Paul’s