Jacob turned off the news, the screens retracting into the ceiling. He surveyed his team. Some hung their heads; some looked shell-shocked; some looked apathetic. Jacob finally turned to his CFO. “Ramesh. You’re the most familiar with our predicament. Please explain how it is that our buildings are killing the occupants.”
Ramesh adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and said, “We’ve been underfunded and unprofitable for fifty years. We’ve stayed alive with government bailouts and by cutting costs to the bone. Building maintenance is one place where we’ve cut funding. The first few years of neglecting building maintenance yielded large savings, but, over time, this is not sustainable. The chickens have come home to roost. The influx of investment capital we received last week from the Bank of China will help keep us afloat for the next six to twelve months, but if we don’t receive another influx of investor capital or a government bailout, I would expect the lawsuits that we’re facing to eventually send us to bankruptcy.”
Jacob nodded to his CFO. “The Bank of China agreed to purchase a 25 percent equity stake at a 22 percent discount to the market. As of today, they’ve only purchased 10 percent. According to the contract, if the share price of Housing Trust falls by more than 20 percent during the accumulation period, they can void the contract. We are down nearly thirty percent at the open today. I don’t think they’ll complete their purchases without asking for a larger discount to the market price. Either way, a government bailout may ultimately be the only sustainable course for this company.”
Jacob sat at his desk, dreading the inevitable phone call from Zhang Jun, so much so that he flinched when his cell phone chimed. He swiped right with a new wave of concern. She rarely calls me at work. “Rebecca?”
“I’m sorry to bother you at work,” Rebecca said. “I just had a disturbing phone call from Derek.”
“From Derek?” Jacob asked.
“He wanted to talk to you. I told him that you were at work, but I could give you a message.”
“What’s the message?”
“I think it’s about the fires.”
Jacob tensed his jaw. “Who the hell does he think he is? I don’t have time for this.”
“Do you remember those two boys who were at Derek’s mother’s funeral?”
“Vaguely.”
“They both died in one of the fires. They lived in a Housing Trust building.”
“A lot of people died. I had nothing to do with it. What the hell does Derek want me to say? Does he want me to grovel and tell him how sorry I am? He’s the last person who I’d talk to about this.”
“What should I tell him?”
“I don’t care what you tell him.” Jacob’s cell phone buzzed with another call. It was the phone call he’d been dreading. “I have to go.” Jacob disconnected Rebecca and answered the incoming call. “Hello, Mr. Jun.”
“Did you know that your buildings are in such disrepair?” Zhang Jun asked, his voice dripping with condescension.
“With the influx of investment from the Bank of China, we’ll be able to improve our maintenance and property management. This tragedy is a one-off event.”
“This is no tragedy. It is a disaster. You have disgraced yourself with your poor management. If I am to throw good money after bad, as you say in America, I want a 50 percent discount to the current market price. Otherwise I will divest all shares.”
Jacob knew he had no leverage. “I will have the lawyers draft the paperwork.”
39
Summer Breaks the News
Summer stepped into her apartment. She hung her coat on the rack near the door. Her fiancé, Connor, lay on the couch, under a blanket, watching television—some apocalyptic movie.
“I ordered pizza,” Connor said, not looking from the television. “It’s in the kitchen.”
Summer sat on the couch, near his feet. She kicked off her sneakers, with a heavy sigh. “This any good?”
Connor paused the movie. “It’s not bad. It just started. I can restart it. By the way, did you hear about those apartment fires?”
Summer nodded. “Just awful. The news report said people in Luray were jumping from their balconies.”
“Housing Trust is so corrupt.”
“Can we change the subject? I really need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”
Connor sat up, the blanket still covering him. They kept their apartment cold in the winter to save on heating bills. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.”
His mouth hung open, his eyes unblinking.
After a moment, she said, “Say something.”
Connor blinked. “How did this happen? You’re on the pill.”
“I forgot to take a few. I didn’t think it would—”
“Jesus, Summer. How could you forget something as important as that?”
“I was tired. I work different shifts. It’s hard to get into a routine. It wasn’t on purpose.”
He blew out a breath. “This is really bad timing.”
“It’s never convenient to have a child.”
“What are you gonna do?”
Summer stood from the couch, her hand to her chest. “What am I gonna do? Am I in this all by myself?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, it’s your choice what to do. You’re the woman. You have to carry the child or not.”
Summer crossed her arms over her chest. “You want me to have an abortion, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ll support you in whatever you decide. It’s just gonna be expensive. I thought we were gonna have an enhanced baby. Don’t you want what’s best for our child?”
Summer touched her stomach. “I want what’s best for this child.”
“Then you wanna have it?”
“Absolutely.”
Connor stood from the couch, showing his palms in surrender. “Okay. Then that’s what I want too.”
“You don’t sound too enthused about it.” Her posture was still standoffish.
“I’m sorry. I’m shocked, that’s all. I need time to process.”
Summer nodded. “Okay.”
“How far along are you?”
“Nine weeks.”
A knock came at their door.
“Who’s that?” Summer asked, thinking that Connor had invited over Mark or Javier.
Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Summer went to the door, checked the peephole, and saw her dad standing in the hallway. She opened the door with a frown and said, “What are you doing here?” Summer had just seen him two days ago.
Patrick grinned. “I can’t come see my daughter?” He stepped inside, and Summer shut the door behind him.
“You usually call first.” She was still slightly annoyed with Patrick for criticizing Connor, although she was more annoyed with herself for thinking Patrick might be right.
“My phone broke.”
“Hey, Patrick,” Connor said.
“Connor.” They shook hands.
“You want some pizza?” Summer asked, headed for the kitchen.
The men followed her.
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay,” Patrick said.
Summer grabbed a plate from the cupboard and flipped open the pizza box. “Why not?” She put two slices of pepperoni on her plate.
“I have a few errands to run.”
“At six o’ clock?” Summer put her pizza in the microwave and pressed Start.
“The Verizon store’s open until eight.” Patrick turned to Connor. “You mind if I talk to Summer alone for a minute?”