“Then if it’s up to them, why are you killing yourself getting ready to make a pitch?”
I knew where she was coming from then. It was the old “you’re working too hard” bit. It seemed like I was hearing that from everybody these days, or often enough that I could sing it from memory.
“Because I really want this motion to carry,” I said, pulling away from her. “If there’s going to be any opposition, I want to be sure I have my reasons and arguments down pat.”
Bunny wandered back around the desk, hesitated, then plopped down into a chair.
“All right, then rehearse. Tell me why you want to sell, if you don’t mind giving a preview.”
I rose and began to pace, rubbing my lower lip as I organized my thoughts.
“Officially, I think it’s necessary for two reasons. First, pretty soon now the novelty of the place is going to wear off, and when it does the crowds .. . and therefore our revenues . . . will decline. That will make it harder to sell than right now, when it’s a hot spot. Second, the place is so successful it’s going to generate imitators. From what I’ve been hearing at my ‘businessman’s lunches,’ there are already several plans underway to construct or convert several of the nearby hotels into casinos. Again, it will dilute the market and lower our price if we wait too long.”
Bunny listened attentively. When I was done, she nodded her head.
“… And unofficially?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said, ‘Officially, etc., etc.’ That implies there are reasons you haven’t mentioned.”
That’s when I realized how tired I was getting. A verbal slip like that could be costly in the wrong company. Still, Bunny was my confidential secretary. If I couldn’t confide in her, I was in trouble.