Chapter 8 - Natalie Refuses the Deal That Could Have Saved Everyone
Hearthstone returned with a revised offer.
It was better.
More dangerous too.
Hearthstone would pay $9 million upfront rather than $11.5 million.
Pierce Market Brands would be dissolved.
All grocery intellectual-property and licensing rights would return directly to Pierce Family Kitchens before closing.
Ryan would lose his forty-nine-percent personal interest.
That solved one problem.
Then came the condition.
Natalie had to sign a four-year exclusive culinary-services agreement.
She would remain the public face of the grocery brand through the transition.
Ryan supported it instantly.
“This fixes everything.”
Natalie looked at the agreement.
Four years.
National exclusivity.
Heavy travel obligations.
Mandatory product-development deadlines.
Termination penalties.
She was still on crutches.
She and Ryan were barely speaking.
“No.”
Ryan stared at her.
“You haven’t even negotiated it.”
“I don’t want the job.”
“Nine million dollars depends on you taking the job.”
“Then Hearthstone has a bad condition.”
Ryan’s frustration became disbelief.
“There are ninety-three people depending on this company.”
Natalie felt every one of them in that sentence.
She still said no.
The decision was personally costly.
The bank immediately requested a restructuring plan.
Diane’s retirement income depended heavily on Pierce distributions.
Natalie’s own shares could lose substantial value.
Ryan called her selfish.
Some employees quietly agreed.
Natalie asked the independent committee to seek alternatives.
An investment bank began contacting other buyers and lenders.
Nothing would happen quickly.
Pierce Family Kitchens instituted a hiring freeze.
Executive bonuses were suspended.
Natalie voluntarily stopped taking director fees.
Ryan did too, after the board required it.
The company had six to eight weeks.
At home Natalie began sleeping in the downstairs study because navigating the staircase with the cast was exhausting.
Ryan rented an apartment.
Their separation became physical without anyone filing papers.
Then Diane made a decision of her own.
She offered to pledge part of her Pierce stock to support a short-term working-capital facility.
Natalie objected.
“That’s your retirement.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to fix Ryan’s mistake.”
Diane looked at her.
“I’m not.”
She tapped the old notebook.
“I’m taking responsibility for mine.”
The short-term loan did not solve the company.
It bought twelve weeks.
Enough for a real process.
Ryan hated the lender covenants because they placed company cash under independent monitoring.
Natalie supported them.
That afternoon Grace received a letter from Stephen Cole, the company’s former outside lawyer.
He wanted his own counsel before giving further testimony to the special committee.
He had discovered something in his file that made him “concerned about the accuracy of prior representations.”
The committee interviewed him two days later.
Stephen admitted that Ryan had not invented Pierce Market Brands alone.
Martin Pierce had discussed a similar structure years earlier.
Diane stared at him.
“My husband?”
Stephen nodded.
“Martin wanted the grocery operation separated from catering.”
Natalie looked at the old notebook.
The family story shifted again.
Ryan’s structure might not have originated as a scheme to cut Natalie out.
He may have inherited the idea from his father.
Then Stephen added:
“But Martin’s version had one important difference.”
Grace asked:
“What?”
May you like
Stephen looked at Natalie.
“He intended you to own half of it.”
