“You’ll do anything to avoid that holiday,” Rafael joked when I called to let him know I’d arrived.
“Those people have no idea what it means to have to fight for your freedom,” I responded.
“So you’ve told me,” Bolo sighed.
I ignored his dig.
“Can we meet tomorrow?” I asked. “Lunch at your club campestre?”
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Bolo agreed. “Meet me at the office at twelve o’clock. We’ll drive over together.”
To my mind, this was the last time we’d meet to discuss PanStar’s future and the value of its existence- the culmination of a decade plus of this uneven power dynamic with its endless series of negotiations forever weighted in favor of one person. It was now my time to take control.
Lunch at Bolo’s country club was as it always was- strong drinks, competently prepared food and an air of complacency permeating the room. The perfect setting for our upcoming discussion.
After the meal was finished, we retired to the men’s lounge for cigars, scotch and our final stand-off.
“So, tell me- what are your plans for PanStar?” Bolo asked.
I knew Bolo was mocking me. He was still laboring under the delusion of exclusive ownership.
“You mean the next pivot?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied, pretending to take the high road. “The next product.”
“There is no product, Rafael. That’s what I came out to tell you.”
Bolo didn’t even try to hide his confusion.
“I’ve set myself up as a Ria agent,” I told him. “I’m phasing out of product and into the wire transfer business. I will no longer move product for you. Those days are done.”
“Let me make sure I’m understanding what you’re saying,” Bolo started out. “You’re telling me that my company is no longer going to be doing business the way it’s always done, because you’re saying you’re not interested in doing that anymore?”
“What I’m saying is, there’s no way to safely conduct business the way we’ve been doing this past decade. Those days are over. We need to move on.”
My business partner knew me well enough to recognize I hadn’t gotten to my main point. Practicing a greater level of self-control than I thought he possessed, Bolo kept silent and waited for me to continue.
“You won’t be making as much money as you would if you tried to force me to continue with our usual inventory, but there’s far less risk for all of us. And you and all of your business friends can use me to move your ill-gotten gains back and forth. At this point in time, that might be highly useful to you.”
I paused to gauge Bolo’s reaction. It appeared that he was trying to work out if I were serious- and if I were serious, if it would be possible to get me to fall back in line.
“This is how it’s going to be,” I said. “If you need me to vacate PanStar on January first, I will. If you want to sell me the building, I’d like to buy it. If you’d like to keep my tenancy status quo for now, then I’m happy with that arrangement. Just let me know.”
Bolo determined that arguing me down wouldn’t work, so he gave me the courtesy of talking it out, like two adults and business partners should do. Right then and there, sitting in the country club lounge, we got fairly specific- talking future loss of profit, risk assessment and the mechanics of grey area money movement.
Bolo agreed that by end of December, the PanStar weapons depot would be emptied out and shut down.
“As long as I hit that profit line we agreed to last year,” he qualified.
“Honestly, Rafael, how much money do you really need?” I asked.
“As much as I can get,” he replied.
“Yes, more money is better,” I replied, “but at what point does it just become a dog chasing its tail? When does a man such as yourself slow down?”
“I slow down when god takes me.”
“You may want to rethink that philosophy,” I said. “Especially if you want to live long enough to see your grandchildren have children.”
“You’ve prospered considerably since that first day I walked into your barrel shop,” Bolo replied, a bit aggressively. “But don’t you still want more?”
“I thought you knew me better than that,” I said. “You should know by now that I prefer to keep a small operation with clear lines of sight. I have no problem scaling down, pulling out or turning into the bank. Whichever is most expedient and carries the least amount of risk.”
“So, what is your ultimate goal?” Bolo asked me.
“I want to stack my money,” I replied, “but I want to live to enjoy it.”
