Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the sea of paper on my desk, trying to mentally sort out the various offers, only to discover they were starting to run together in my head. I’ve noticed that happening more and more after midnight. With a muttered curse, I cast about for my notes.
“Working late, Skeeve?”
“What?” I said, glancing up. “Oh. Hi, Bunny. What are you doing here at this hour?”
“I could say I was worried about you, which I am, but truthfully I didn’t even know you were still here till I saw the light on and poked my head in to check. No, I was just fetching a few things I had stored in my desk. Now, I can return the same question: what are you doing here?”
I stretched a bit as I answered, grateful for the break.
“Just trying to organize my thoughts on selling The Fun House. I’m going to have to make my recommendations to the Board as to which of these offers to accept when we discuss it at our monthly meeting.”
She came around the desk and stood behind me, massaging the knots out of my shoulders. It felt wonderful.
“I don’t see why you have to make a presentation to the Board at all,” she said. “Why don’t you just go ahead and make the decision unilaterally? You made the decision to sell without clearing it with anyone else.”
Something in what she said had a ominous ring to it, but I was enjoying the backrub too much to pin it down just then.
“I made the decision unilaterally to open our door to offers … not to sell. The actual final call as to whether or not to sell, and, which, if any, of the offers to accept, is up to the Board.”