Chapter 21: A Friendly Wager

July 1971, age 16

I love Los Angeles. I love the buzz, the beaches and the bikinis.

On the other hand, I hate California’s age of consent law.

I hadn’t really expected to be bedding anyone during this trip, but when I saw one particular young lady appear by the hotel pool, she got a definite rise out of me, and suddenly the law was an annoyance. The girl was probably a little older than me and well developed in a good way. And her two piece swimsuit was barely legal. She certainly knew how to turn heads.

I must have been a bit obvious in my leering, as Corey slapped the back of my head. “Don’t bother, dude. You don’t stand a chance with the ice queen.”

He had a peeved look on his face, so I asked, “You’d know, would you? Turned you down, maybe?”

“Eww, no! That’s my sister, Madison.”

Madison Wilson? “She has a forename and surname both ending in son? Your parents didn’t think that through, did they!”

He shrugged. “They always intended her to be Madi.”

“I take it you two aren’t close.”

“We used to be, till she started high school. That’s when Madi was replaced by Madison the queen bitch. This year I was a freshman while she was a senior. First, she set the football team on me. Then, she put the word round that any girl who even smiled at me would be on her shit list. I’ve gone a whole year without a date. Thank fuck she’s graduated. Kinda tired of it being just me and my right hand.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that semi-admission of virginity. I’m sure girls must have thought he was hot, with his body-of-a-Greek-God that made me so jealous. I found myself embodying the voice of my shrink from a few years back, asking, “You think maybe she’s angry at your dad about the divorce and misdirecting at you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But that doesn’t help me any.”

“So, she’s 18?”

“Yes?”

“How would you like some payback?”

“How?”

I smiled. “I think I’m up to the challenge of thawing out your sister. I’ll take one for the team, you walk in while she’s banging an underaged boy, ammunition for life!”

“Nice idea, but you’ve got no chance, dude. She only gives boys the time of day if they help her social standing.”

“Interesting.” I could work with that. “How much you wanna bet?”

“I wouldn’t wanna take your money, man.”

“Loser does a dare then. You game?”

“She’s gonna make you cry.” We shook.

It took a little organisation to put my plan into play. I knew I was debasing myself by engaging in the stuff of trashy high school movies. But (a) she was fucking hot, and (b) I felt for Corey and wanted payback on his behalf. Unlike the aforementioned movies, there was zero chance of us falling in love and living happily ever after.

At breakfast the next morning, I went to the Wilsons’ table to meet their father. “Good morning sir, my name’s Finnley Harrison. I thought I’d come and say hi as I’ve been hanging out with Corey the last few days.”

Polite small-talk followed, with Madi pointedly ignoring me. That changed with my opening gambit.

“We’ve chartered a yacht for today, and I was wondering whether you would allow Corey to come along? Madison too, if she’d like? We were planning on sailing up the coast a little toward Malibu.”

I deliberately avoided looking at Madi, but I saw in my peripheral vision that her head came up.

“Corey, would you like to go?”, his father asked.

“Yeah, dad. Sounds awesome.”

“Madi?”

She winced slightly at the use of that name in front of me. “What sort of yacht?”

“It’s a 90-foot motor yacht with a professional crew”, I told her. Then turning to Corey, “It also has jet skis aboard for when we moor somewhere.”

Corey was sold. Madi too, but she played it cool. “It might make for a pleasant day.”

I caught their father rolling his eyes, which made me smirk. “Should I speak to your parents?”, he asked me.

Before I could answer diplomatically, Corey blurted out, “Dad, they’re dead”.

Mister Wilson was a little shocked. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No harm done”, I said casually, noting Madi’s close attention. Time to stir the pot. “I have a guardian with me for this trip if you’d like to speak to him. And a company lawyer is always nearby if necessary.”

That peaked the interest of both father and daughter, but the conversation didn’t progress much from there.

An hour later we boarded the gorgeous yacht at Marina del Rey and were soon at sea. The charter crew were suitably attentive, if rather surprised their principals were so young. Ewan and two other guys were aboard with us but stayed hidden below deck.

The cruise up the coast took less than an hour, during which Madi sunned herself, and Corey and I explored. I noted the occasional low-level snarky comment from Madi to her brother, though she was always civil to me. With Corey out of earshot, I had to say something.

“Miss Wilson, the way you treat your brother is unbecoming for a lady of your beauty. Improve your behaviour, or I’ll put you ashore.” I walked off without waiting for a response. It may have blown my chances with her, but it felt worth it.

We anchored in one of the bays west of Malibu and spent the rest of the morning doing water sports. Madi even deigned to join us. A fabulous lunch aboard was followed by a tender ashore to spend an hour or so on the beach. This was where we had planned the next step in my conquest of Miss Madison Wilson.

While she was sunning herself, ignoring us boys, two guys approached and started chatting her up. They must have been 19 or 20, and were shirtless but not exactly buff. For a social climber like Madi, they didn’t seem her type. Both guys were actually actors, provided by the studio and playing a role. As planned, they were persistent despite Madi’s lack of interest. The climax of the little scene was them getting a bit too pushy and finding themselves picked up and frog-marched off the beach by four big guys.

Corey and Madi just sat there with their mouths agape.

“What just happened?”, Madi asked.

“Sorry about that”, I replied. “My bodyguards don’t like it when aggressive people get too close to me.”

“Bodyguards?!”, they both asked.

“Well ... yeah. Did you not notice the three guys with guns on the boat. There must be a dozen here on the beach.”

“Seriously?!”, Corey asked.

Ewan was sat barely three yards behind us, so I asked him loudly, “Do me a favour: have everyone wave at us.”

Ewan dutifully said something into the mic on his polo shirt collar, and hey presto, a whole load of inconspicuous men and women waved.

Madi stared at me. “Who the fuck are you?”

I just laughed and replied, “I’m Finn. Nice to meet you. Corey, you wanna play frisbee?”

The next day brought the next tactical move. Corey and I were in the pool, Madi on a lounger, when Ewan called me out of the water. With him was the reporter I had met in New York, and one of our lawyers.

“Mister Dorrington, nice to see you again”, I commented on the poolside, shaking his hand despite being dripping-wet. I led them to our sun-loungers to get my towel. “I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble at the New York Times”, I asked, knowing Madi would hear.

The young reporter grinned. “My colleague was kinda hacked off when you refused to see him. My bosses were mightily relieved when your people rang to give us a second shot.”

“No problem”, I replied. “I just don’t like people pissing me about.”

By this time I had Madi’s full attention, and Corey’s too.

“Do you mind doing this out here? Too much faff to go upstairs and get dressed.” I didn’t wait for an answer, pointing him to a nearby table with an umbrella. “Drink?”, I asked him. There was an outdoor bar just by us, which gave Corey and Madi ample opportunity to be in earshot.

We started off with small-talk while my guest set up a chunky tape recorder. I explained that I might sometimes have to refer my notes from Dan, and he put me at my ease by saying he too had notes from his bosses at the Times. I did suggest that we just swap notes, but he didn’t go for that!

“May I begin by repeating the question I asked when we first met? Can you confirm that you are the new owner of the New York Yankees?” In my line of sight, I saw both Corey’s and Madi’s eyes bug out.

“Yes, I can. Or rather my family’s company is.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You think a 16-year-old can own a professional baseball club? No way. I don’t have any legal control over the company until my eighteenth birthday. Whenever I do anything business-related, I always have a babysitter with me.”

“So they let you play at being executive until you’re old enough to do it properly?” He seemed amused.

“They let me play executive because they’ve worked out that anyone who pisses me off now will get fired in two years time.” That seemed to amuse him even more, but it was the look on my lawyer’s face that did it for me.

“So who is in charge of the Yankees right now?”

“The existing General Manager, Lee MacPhail, is in charge. He answers directly to our London office for now, but there’ll be a new board of directors in place very soon.”

“And Mister MacPhail has your full confidence?”

“Well, I’ve never met the man. HEY, COREY! WHAT D’YOU THINK OF LEE MACPHAIL?”

Corey did a goldfish impression, then gave me two thumbs-up.

“Good enough for me”, I laughed. “That matches all the advice we’ve had.”

The guy seemed unsure whether to be amused or horrified. “And the current CEO and board of directors presumably don’t have your confidence if you’re dismissing them?”

“They’re all CBS employees, so you’d expect a new owner to make changes, wouldn’t you? We’ll make announcements about new directors as quickly as we can, but I’ll tell you right now that they’ll all be Americans who will know a lot more about your national pastime than me.”

“Your friend, perhaps?”, he asked, thumbing toward Corey.

“He’s even younger than me, so no.”

“Why did you buy the Yankees?”

“Because I love sports.”

“Why not just buy a team back in Great Britain?”

“Oh, we have. We bought Wimbledon Football Club a few months ago, and we’ve begun investing in it. Wimbledon is the suburb of London where I live. We also bought an old country estate that has a derelict racetrack so we can get into motor sports too. So this is our third sports purchase, and I doubt it will be the last.”

“By football, you mean soccer, right?”

I nodded, but also commented, “Football: played with the feet!”

“So why baseball and why the Yankees?”

“Partly because it makes good business sense. Partly because I like an underdog. I think it’s fair to say that the Yankees have had a bad run lately. It’s definitely true that Wimbledon FC has an awful lot of work ahead to rise through the leagues, and the racetrack at Donington Park is a wreck. In each case, I want to be part of their journey, and I’m prepared to put the company’s financial clout into it. Like I said, we’ve already begun investing in the British projects. We’re even hoping to build a new stadium in Wimbledon. Whenever Lee MacPhail makes a good case for extra funds, we’ll support him and the team all the way.”

“Does that mean the Yankees could get a new stadium?”

Ha! I’d baited my little trap, and he couldn’t help but go there! Dan would be pleased. Our prepared answer was something he wanted put out there. “It’s definitely possible, but it’s not straightforward because the team doesn’t own the current stadium. But when I went to the Indians game, I saw for myself how badly the stadium needs improvement. The owners, Rice University, seem to be incredibly tight-fisted, so there are only really two options. Option one is that the city acquires the current stadium via eminent domain and use lots of tax-payer-dollars to refurbish it. Option two is that the team buys a site somewhere else within the city limits and builds a brand new stadium. Staying put and doing nothing isn’t an option because, eventually, a chunk of concrete is going to fall onto someone’s head. Long-term, it’s gonna get less and less safe.”

We hoped that answer would stir up some action!

“Can I take from that answer that you’re not considering a move to Meadowlands?”

“Correct. As long as we own the team, it will not leave New York City.”

“You have any possible sites in mind?”

“We do.”

“Care to share?”

“Nope! That would only drive up the price of the land.”

“Fair enough. Some Yankee fans might be rather unhappy about a foreigner owning the team. What do you have to say to them?”

I shrugged. “It’s a small world. American companies invest in other countries all the time, and that isn’t a one-way street. We’ve closed a deal in the last month to partner with a great American company expanding into the UK. Soon there will be a McDonald’s restaurant on every high street in Britain. Yankees fans should be no more wary of me than Brits should be of American hamburgers. So like a taste test, judge us on our results.”

Dorrington liked that soundbite and nodded appreciatively. “Your company has a habit of buying up smaller companies rather than building new ones. Why is that?”

I shrugged and said, “It’s quicker”. He expected more but didn’t get it.

“The reason I ask is that you’ve bought, what, seven companies so far this year? Eight now with the Yankees. That’s gotta leave you financially stretched, right?”

“Well, again, it’s the company, not me. But I see your point. This is a major expansion year for us. We’re planning to invest almost half a billion pounds this year across new and existing divisions. Our financial team expect an economic crash in the next two to three years, so we’ve basically compressed three years of expansion plans into one year.”

It took my interrogator a few moments to figure out his next question as we had veered off script.

“Walk me through that again? Why do you think the economy will tank? And why isn’t that a problem for you when you’re presumably up to your eyeballs in debt?”

The answer was ‘because we know the future’, but I obviously couldn’t say that. “I’ve been told to say that’s proprietary, so I could tell you, but only if you come work for us.”

Dorrington smiled and politely declined. “It’s also interesting that the companies you’ve acquired are all so different”, he continued. “You’ve bought a London newspaper group, a toy company, a luxury automotive brand, a chain of dance halls ... you even own an airline. What motivates these sorts of purchases?”

“We’re a conglomerate. Being diversified across lots of areas spreads the risk. Sometimes when we buy companies we have to turn them around; sometimes, like when we bought Marvel Comics in New York, they’re successful companies that fit nicely with our other operations. Whether it’s cars or newspapers or toys or property, the bottom line is that they all make good business sense.”

“You also own the company that builds Concorde, and you flew into New York on it. How was your flight?”

“It was great. Quick! Doing New York to Europe in three and a half hours is going to revolutionise air travel.”

“What do you say to the New Yorkers who are complaining about Concorde’s sonic booms?”

“I’d say they must have superhuman hearing. We deliberately dropped from supersonic to subsonic a hundred miles offshore. So unless they were out on a yacht or fishing boat, I’d say anyone claiming to have heard Concorde’s sonic boom is a bloody liar. Yes, Concorde is noisy taking off and landing, but it’s quieter than Air Force One. New York City can’t really ban Concorde on noise grounds without banning the President’s plane too. You think that’s a good idea?”

Dorrington had the good sense not to answer that! He moved swiftly on.

“Your company was founded by your Grandfather. Was he a big influence in your life?”

“Yes and no. I never met him until I was ten because of a family rift before I was born. He took in me and my sister after our parents died, so yes, he was a big influence in those last few years of his life.”

“Did he ever tell you the story about where he got the money to start his company?”

Oh shit. I didn’t like where this was going. “No. Why?”

“I just wondered. He was a soldier in the war, right?”

“Yes.”