No one underage, not a lot of sex in this one. Follow up to Ben Broken.
Ben Repaired
As I lifted the lintel into place I noticed a suit watching me work. He got up the courage to come over and speak to me.
"Ben Thompson? May I have a moment of your time?" I was in the middle of fitting and leveling the five hundred pound stone lintel, so it was not a good time for idle chit chat.
"You will have to wait a few minutes here. Mortar is setting up as we speak." I finished with the huge stone block, and dressed the joints evenly. Level in this direction, level in that direction. Height is ok. Braces were solid. Was I a perfectionist? Maybe so, but lintels were a very, very important part of the structure, and had to be installed correctly. I wiped off my hands, and turned to the suit. I extended my hand.
"Ben Thompson," he shook my hand with a decent firm grip. He had some muscle, apparently he was not just a pencil pusher. I like that.
"George Babcock. Great work. Do you always check your measurements five times?" He seemed genuinely interested.
"Absolutely. Sometimes six times. Gotta be right."
"Well, it's very nice to meet you finally. May we go somewhere to chat? Cup of coffee?"
"Sure, I have to check with the bosses anyways." I took him to the trailer. We walked in and I bent over to kiss Marsha. Marsha was a voluptuous, gorgeous black woman. She was my right arm. She really ran things around here. I was more muscle than brains. Everyone underestimated her intelligence because of her big chest, but I knew how smart she was.
"Marsha this is mister... Uh what was your name again?"
"George, George Babcock, my pleasure, Marsha," she grinned and shook his hand. He was looking at her G cups like everyone did.
"Ok George, it's your show."
I prompted him.
"First off, the county board of supervisors asked me to give you this. This is from the excellent repair work on the county jail you did two years ago. I trust the amount is ok?" He spoke, then handed over a county check to me.
I was in shock that the county board had done a damned thing, much let alone pay me for my work.
"This should go to the old business creditors, not me."
"This was from a handshake deal with the warden, who is my uncle by the way. He says 'Hi' and 'Thank you for a job well done'. You worked alone, and did terrific repairs that were sorely needed. If you had not shored up the building, well... It could have been a tragedy! Your old company had nothing to do with it. You did the whole thing, soup to nuts! And amazing as it sounds, all by yourself. Fine job by the way."
"My engineer?" I know Bill Ramsey worked on it too.
"Paid Bill Ramsey the engineer separately. Again, a handshake deal, nothing to do with your old defunct business. His specs were better than the original builders. Great job all the way around." He was effusive in his compliments and that was making me very nervous. Why all the compliments, and the long overdue check? This was a set up for something.Two hundred thousand dollars was a big hook.
"Won't the creditors have a cow over two hundred thousand dollars in my hand here?" I asked. "Who wants a lawsuit?" I went to hand back the check.
"Sir. I represent 90% of the creditors. The other ten percent of the creditors is ah... You." He looked at me kinda in an appraisal. Like I did something naughty. Which if truth be told, I kinda did. Naughty, but 100% legal. Hell, I had the IRS scoundrels look it over and they approved it for tax purposes anyway, way before I executed the plan. Better safe than sorry. I suppose I was a bit underhanded in the way I went about it, but considering what my ex had put me through... It was a small enough price to pay! I had done nothing illegal.
"You knew all the time that your ex-wife was going to fuck things up, so you got out, took out a bunch of contracts that you knew she couldn't fulfill, you knew what would happen. And then waited for the bankruptcy. By our estimates, you got about $1.3 million from the court."
"It was only $1.1 million after the lawyers took their pound of flesh. Nobody at my old company was forced to sign those work contracts. If they chose to, all they had to do was say no! ...All nice and legal. I did get $700 k in the divorce. So you win some and you lose some. What is your point? You guys mad at me? Go talk with the ex. She got the company. I certainly did not put a gun to anyone's head to sign those very, very real contracts. Each of those contracts was to a real person, for a very real job. If Betty had done the work, I would have made two million dollars, not just one, and you know it."
"Betty was in a mental ward for some time. Not sure she's going to be much help. I guess she's out and waitressing now. I'm not really sure about her mental state." He saw the upset look on my face. "Let's talk about something more productive. Like making money. Actually... You making a great deal of money!" I swear his bankers eyes went "ching- ching!"
He looked me in the eye. "Everyone we have spoken to recommended you. All of your former employees and subs said the same thing. Every single customer ageed: You are the best man for the job. You are the only one crazy enough to try to resurrect your old defunct business. We want a 50% cut on proceeds 'till the debt is cleared.." He smiled like a wolf. Well there was the opening shot.
I suddenly realized what this was all about. The creditors saw no return from a dead horse, so now they wanted me to saddle up again. Guess who the horse is? Yeah right. Fuck them. This horse is not letting anyone ride.
"No thanks."
"How about 30% cut and flexible terms?"
"No"
"How about we get a 20% cut and some form of payment until the debt is cleared times two. That is court ordered four million as the current debt is two mil. What do you think?" He was throwing out the bait. That was like free money, but of course there is always a catch. A huge catch.
"Why should I? I have my own business again. What's in it for me?" I did not want to get back in the big game. I was in the game in a very small way, not like the multi-million dollar jobs from before. All that was gone for good now.
"Negotiated, signed, very real contracts. You had twenty-two million dollars in business...all lined up and ready to go. All that good will, and with bank pre-approved dollars. All of it is still there. For some reason folks like you and the good will is still there. Some of the contracts have slipped or gone, but most still very, very viable. We spoke to the banks. We spoke to the customers. Everyone is on board. It is still doable, but only with you driving the bus. Every single one of them wants me to beg you to come back to your old business." His real purpose was finally apparent.
Finally! We get to the truth. Folks wanna make money, and money on my skills. I was the man who could do it all. They saw me like a modern day Midas because of my track record. Every single building or job I took was completed on time and under budget, with many very happy customers. I used to get many bonuses from very happy clients. I always split these with my workers, or just gave all of it to them. Nobody ever quit on me, ever! I tried to treat everyone with respect, and in turn, I was treated with respect and loyalty. That meant a lot to me.
Too bad my ex wife killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Her divorce stabbed me in the heart, and the fucking lawyers finished the job, not counting the judge from hell who gave me the coup de gras, and gave her half the business. My business.
Fucking cheating, ex wife, bitch... I said "Fuck it!" and left. I was... I am the business. Without me... It failed very miserably.
And I took my share of the corpse, and went on vacation in the Caribbean. I felt so bad about that! Yeah right. The draft horse finally revolts. I hated that all my former employees got hurt, but there was really not much I could do. So... Fuck it! I quit. Little fanfare, and I doubt she was prepared for the reaction from my old colleagues. They saw the handwriting on her wall and everyone bolted from the company like it was on fire. I wonder if she ever understood that in large part, I WAS the business, not to take a thing away from my talented and able workers, but I was the driving force that made it all work. I took what we "negotiated" in court and left.
I did make a few bucks by contracting a bunch of very real outside projects. I was at the bankruptcy court almost first in line, with ironclad contracts. So I made back a few of the dollars that I was screwed out of. So what? All very legal, thank you very much. And I could have made much more if she had not reneged on those very same contracts. Really, I saw what was going to happen even before I was out of the door. I was just in a pretty good position to capitalize on her upcoming mistakes!