The Days of Summer. Jill Barnett

      “This deal—my deal—will save the company two million dollars.” Jud held up two fingers. “Two million dollars.”

      “I can’t believe my own flesh and blood could be so fucking stupid. Just what did they teach you in six years of college?”

      “Enough to figure out how to cut a deal with one of the biggest suppliers in the world.”

      Victor laughed at him.

      “We’ve never dealt with Marvetti before.” Jud tapped his chest. “I got us in. Me.”

      “You actually think I can’t make a deal with anyone I want?”

      His grandson had no quick comeback. The kid wasn’t stupid, just green. Jud’s voice was quiet when he said, “I checked the company records. There’s no record of any deal with Marvetti.”

      “Why do you think that is?”

      “Because we didn’t have an in.”

      “Who told you that?”

      “Joe Syverson said there was a rumor that Marvetti hated you.”

      “I wouldn’t do business with him when I was small potatoes, and I sure as hell won’t do it now. You should have asked me, not Syverson.”

      “The last time I asked you a question, you said you weren’t going to wet-nurse me through my job. You told me to learn to think for myself.”

      “‘Think’ is the definitive word, Jud.”

      “Go to hell.”

      “For Christ’s sake, stop glaring at me and calm down. Tell me how this deal of yours came about.”

      “I ran into Richard Denton at the club a few months back.” Jud began to pace in front of Victor’s desk. “He asked me to have drinks with his foursome. Marvetti’s sales manager was one of the group.”

      “So they came after you.”

      “No.” Jud spun around and faced him. “That’s not what happened. I had to work my butt off for this deal. I did everything but kiss his ass.”

      The kid never saw it coming, Victor thought. “Was Fitzpatrick there?”

      “Yes.”

      Victor looked up at Jud. “So you think men like Denton and Fitzpatrick are going to welcome you into their inner business circle just like”—Victor snapped his fingers—“that? Why would they do that? Because you went to Stanford? Because they like your looks? Because you drive a hot little MG, wear cashmere sweaters, and can shoot three under par on the back nine? Or do you think it just might be because you’re my grandson?” Victor leaned forward, his palms flat on the desktop. “You’re a snot-nosed kid just out of college.”

      Jud’s head snapped back as if Victor had punched him.

      “You’re twenty-five years old and you have a helluva lot to learn.” Victor took a long deep breath and sat back in his chair. “First rule of business: Examine the offer. Don’t look first at what kind of deal they’re giving you. Look at what’s in it for them.”

      “I know what’s in it for them. A multimillion-dollar deal with BanCo. That’s what I can give them,” Jud said, wounded pride in his voice.

      Victor understood pride in all its forms. “You’re exactly right.”

      Jud looked confused. He ran on ego instead of instinct, something he had yet to develop.

      “If a smart businessman wants something and can’t get it, he looks to his opponent’s weakest spot.” Victor paused, then said, “In my case, you’re it.”

      Jud spoke through a tight jaw. “Just what do you want from me?”

      “I want you to do your job. When you start a deal, you make damn sure you know everything there is to know about who you’re dealing with. Especially their motives. You find out their shoe size, their kids’ names, their goddamn blood type. Know how much they paid the Internal Revenue Service last year. Know every fucking thing there is to know before you ever negotiate anything.”

      “What’s wrong with Marvetti? Why won’t you deal with them?”

      “I’m not going to do your job. You need to use your head, dammit. I want you to understand that—”

      “You want me to be perfect!”

      “No. I don’t believe in miracles.” Victor would have bet Jud wanted to hit him right then. He took a deep breath. “What I want is for you to learn to work the same way I do. I want you to think like I do.”

      “Why in the hell would I want to be like you?”

      Victor stood up. “You cocky young fool. You have no idea of the mistakes ahead of you.”

      “Yes I do. I’m looking at my biggest mistake, old man. I thought I could be part of this company. You’re the one who’s mistaken if you think I ever want to be anything like you!”

      “Then you’re stupid, and I’ve never thought that of you, Jud. You wanted to learn this business. Then watch me and goddamn learn it!”

      “I didn’t ask to be raked over the coals every time I turn around! I can’t do anything right around you!” Jud leaned on the desk.

      They were almost nose to nose. Victor straightened, then spoke in a calmer tone. “Your only problem is that you’re young. And you don’t like to admit you’re wrong.”

      “With you I’m always wrong.”

      “You’re not always wrong. You just think you know everything.”

      “Then I guess I am just like you.”

      In the utter silence that followed, Victor asked himself how many mistakes it would take to crack through this kid’s hard head. He thought Jud was like Rudy in that and he looked at the angry young man standing before him and felt as if he’d been thrown back in time. Rudy would have run the company into the ground, but Jud was whip-smart, took chances, and he was the stronger of the boys. Unlike Cale—who was screwing his way through Loyola—a woman would never get between Jud and the business. Jud didn’t think with his fly.

      “You think I’m tough on you? Well, I am.” Victor sat again, leaning back in his chair and never taking his eyes off Jud. “I built this business by being tough and I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose it because you’re too hardheaded to listen and learn.”

      “So what am I supposed to tell Marvetti? My grandfather said no deal. I can hear the buzz now. ‘Jud Banning is a real pussy. A puppet. He does exactly what his grandfather tells him.’ Great … just great.”

      “You want me to give you all the answers and I’m not going to. I didn’t have anyone to tell me what to do. Solve this yourself. Show the world the kind of a man you are.”

      “So in this hard-edged, tough business world of yours, you become a man by welshing on a deal? How in the hell will anyone ever take me seriously?”

      Victor leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and merely looked at him. He refused to lead Jud through life by the nose.

      “Damn you, Victor. This is my deal. I have to lose my respect and integrity because you don’t like Marvetti?”

      “You lost your integrity when you let his flunkies lure you into a business deal with him. Find out for yourself why. Then you come and tell me how good your deal is.”

      Anger, humiliation, and something almost elemental were in Jud’s taut features. “I want the chance to make my own mark on this company, to do things my way.”

      “Your way is wrong.” Victor didn’t move. Jud was pigheaded but Victor knew he wouldn’t cross that final line—the one that would send his butt out of the company. The silence between them