Chapter 78: Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, Part II

May 15, 1992, Glencoe, Illinois

“Join me in my study, if you would,” Noel Spurgeon said when we finished our dessert.

It had been an interesting evening. Samantha and I had talked for a bit before we’d been summoned to dinner. The meal had been prepared by a chef and was served by a white-coated young man. Again, this was a far cry from Lois at the van Hoeks’ house. What wasn’t a far cry was the fact that I was having dinner with a man who knew I was going to be sleeping with his daughter that evening. I’d eventually relaxed around Ben, but it had taken some time, as well as getting caught, fully clothed, in bed with his daughter Becky.

Samantha’s parents, Noel and Valerie, had greeted me politely when we came to the large dining room. Samantha and I and sat down side by side at the long table, with her father to my right at the end of the table and her mother across from me. The conversation had been polite, but for the most part, we simply ate. I took my cues from Samantha who didn’t speak very much.

I followed Mr. Spurgeon into his study which was at least twice the size of mine. He poured brandy for both of us, then opened a beautifully carved humidor from which I extracted a fine Cuban cigar. I knew them, because they were the same illegal brand that Don Joseph had smoked. I accepted the cutter, and box of wooden matches. I cut my cigar, lit it, and placed the match in the ashtray. Mr. Spurgeon did the same. I picked up the brandy glass and held it so that my palm would slightly warm the liquid, and took a puff of my cigar. Mr. Spurgeon nodded in approval. I’d apparently passed the first test.

“Tell me about your business,” he said, indicating a very comfortable leather chair for me to sit in.

I sat down, and he sat in a similar chair next to mine.

“This is my second business,” I said. “I started my first one when I was fifteen.”

I related the story of the computer dating software, the formation of AP Software, and the eventual sale of Four Dimensional Software. I continued through the sale of the company and college, and then the formation of NIKA Consulting with my friends from school.

“Your company is private. What would you estimate it was worth?”

I smiled, “Whatever somebody is willing to pay for it, and not a penny more.”

He laughed, “You sound like Alec or Lisa Glass! That’s their usual answer for what a property is worth.”

“Given that it’s not for sale, I don’t know that there’s a valuation which is particularly meaningful. We’re profitable, have solid reserves, and our business is growing. Is there a reason you asked?”

“My first priority, above all else, is investing. I look for opportunities. I believe you know I have about $4 billion under management, and not all of that is in publicly traded companies. We do venture capital as well, which can be very lucrative. I get the impression that you are mostly self-financed and aren’t in need of an immediate capital infusion.”

“Correct. The only notes we have outstanding are the mortgage, and for our recent buyout of a competitor. But that buyout financing didn’t require any corporate equity, and to be frank, Mr. Spurgeon, I’m not interested in giving up any equity.”

“I don’t believe I’ve been told ‘no’ so quickly and firmly in my life! Usually they at least listen to my proposal before they say ‘no’!”

“I don’t believe in beating around the bush,” I said. “I had two very early investors, my dad and my first mentor. Beyond that, there were shares granted to the first employees in exchange for lower salaries to preserve our capital. Now the ESOP allows others to gain shares, but I won’t give up my majority interest. And I will only do finance deals that don’t require equity. I’ve made similar deals with friends of mine who needed startup capital but didn’t want to give up equity.”

“You leave a lot of potential profit on the table that way.”

“I do. My first mentor taught me that business and friendship go together, and the things you do for your friends pay you back in ways other than pure profit on a single deal. I suppose it’s all about the value proposition. Not everyone measures the value gained from a deal in money.”

That was absolutely true about the deal I’d made with his daughter. No money had changed hands, and any ‘business’ arrangements would come in the future, likely after our long-term affair ended.

“Allowing that you might be correct, how do you value the deal then if not in terms of money?”

“I don’t know, how did you evaluate the value proposition of marrying Valerie?” I asked, taking a sip of brandy.

He laughed, “Answering THAT would probably end up with me sleeping in a guest room for a week!”

“Exactly,” I said, puffing on my cigar. “But there was a value proposition to be considered. And you did it and made your deal. That’s what I did when I helped my two friends.”

“What business, if I may ask?”

“One is running a bed-and-breakfast in Vermont. The other one has her own architectural firm here in Chicago. I provided, what I guess you would call, venture capital, though without taking a permanent equity stake.”

“What other investing do you do?”

“All retail through a discount broker. Mostly technology stocks, but I diversify with consumer goods and retail.”

“As a new friend, I’ll tell you that the game is rigged at that level. Your broker will front-run you, sell to you from his own holdings at away-from-market prices, steer you into stocks he gets special commissions on, and otherwise sell you down the river.”

“I don’t plan on getting a Series 7 license any time soon, and I don’t have enough resources to qualify as a professional investor, so it’s either that or some kind of fund through someone like T. Rowe Price or Fidelity, and I bet those are even worse, by the time they take out the fees and expenses.”

“So you know a bit about how it works, then,” Noel said.

“Just as I know a bit about how medicine works,” I said with a rueful smile. “Both annoy me, as does the legal profession. It’s all a bunch of inside baseball. And I don’t mean illegal, though I’m sure there is plenty of that, too. Just in general, there’s too much self-dealing which goes on in those professions.”

“All heavily regulated.”

“Which just tells you in advance where the mines are buried, allowing you to walk around them. Not to mention, the professions help plant the mines so they make sure they leave a safe path through. Also known as regulatory capture.”

“How very cynical of you,” he smiled, punctuating by pointing his cigar at me.

“I try to be a straight shooter and call them as I see them.”

“That’s twice now you mentioned being blunt or shooting straight. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Mr. Spurgeon, if you have something to say, say it,” I said. “Dancing around it does neither of us any good.”

He nodded, and puffed his cigar, “OK then. Have you lied to my daughter?”

“No, Sir.”

“Have you hidden anything from her or deceived her?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Hidden anything? No. Deceived? I haven’t intended to, but I can’t be responsible for what she’s thinking unless she verbalizes it and I have an opportunity to correct any misunderstandings.”

“Are you sure you aren’t a lawyer?” he laughed. “You sure sound like one!”

“I’ve been disparaged that way before,” I chuckled.

“You’ll keep any promises and commitments you’ve made to her?”

“To the best of my ability, and if a situation was to arise that would require violating them, I’d talk to her before I did something that would hurt her.”

“Steve, you have balls the size of basketballs. You’ll go as far as you want to!”

I’d dated the granddaughter of a mafia don, taken the virginity of another one of his granddaughters, faced down Little Tony, and dealt with men like Frank Calabrese and James Marcello. Noel Spurgeon was a pussycat compared to them. Heck, he was a pussycat compared to Margaret Lundgren. This also wasn’t my first time in this kind of situation. Ben van Hoek had provided me the guidelines. Be honest, be direct, and above all, don’t hurt his daughter. I’d messed up with Becky. The real question was, had I learned enough lessons to not mess up with Samantha?

“Sir, Samantha made things very clear last Saturday.”

“I’ve never told her ‘no’ in her life, even when I had concerns about her decision-making. I’ve never believed that I own her; she’s her own person. But, that said, do not make me regret this.”

That was pretty much what I’d heard from Ben van Hoek. I HAD made him regret it at one point, though in the end, things had worked out. I’d heard through Alyson that Becky was pregnant, and although there was little chance I’d ever see her or her baby, I wished them well. Once again, I reproved myself for letting my mind drift to another girl when I should have been focusing on the one that was supposed to be holding my attention.

“I understand completely,” I said.

“She says we’ll see you most Fridays. I’ll have Les give you a transmitter for the gate for your car.”

“Thank you.”

“Call me at the office on Monday. I’ll set you up to trade through our firm. You’ll get much better prices and much lower commissions. And access to any IPOs or special offers that interest you. I’m sure you’re below our usual minimum net worth requirement, but I think I can make an exception. In fact, Samantha would insist on it!”

He handed me his card.

“I’ll remember this when anyone asks me about capital or investing,” I said.

“All part of the value proposition, now isn’t it?”

“Yes sir, it is.”

We finished our brandy and our cigars, and he took me to where Samantha was waiting for me. She took my hand and led me outside to the lavish garden. We sat on a cushion-covered bench near a tall, marble fountain with bubbling water.

“You’re still here, so you passed Daddy’s test, too.”

“What is that, seven tests now? Are they going to continue?”

“Seven?” Samantha asked.

“The gala. The fundraiser. The car on the way to Plainfield. Horsemanship. The deal. Lisa. Your dad.”

She giggled, “Eight. You had to make me feel really, really good on Saturday!”

“And are we done with the tests?”

“Why? Are you pretending to be someone you aren’t and you want to drop your guard?”

“You know I’m blunt, so I’m going to be blunt. At some point trust has to kick in. If not, then honestly, this is going to go right to hell. It’ll have been a fun physical experience, but ultimately worthless in terms of any kind of relationship, business or personal. Being a pretentious bitch is probably good for business; being a suspicious, jealous bitch isn’t good for a personal relationship.”

She dropped my hand and put her hands in her lap and just stared at the fountain we were sitting in front of. I had a feeling she wasn’t used to being talked to this way, especially given what her dad had said to me about never saying ‘no’ to her. She’d called herself a ‘spoiled rich kid’ and I was afraid that not only was she correct, but that what Samantha REALLY wanted was not what she’d told me last Saturday.

Or, as I thought about it, perhaps she HAD told me, and I was being played. She’d said that if I wasn’t married, I’d make a perfect husband. I fulfilled the important criteria on her list, with the exception of being married. Well, and unable to give her an heir because of my vasectomy. But I wondered if that had been a clue that I’d missed. An inflection point which hadn’t seemed like one at the time.

And then it hit me what she’d said even before that! She’d said ‘We are having our wedding night in about an hour’, though she’d qualified it by saying she knew I wouldn’t marry her. But DID she know that? Had I blundered, badly? She wanted me exclusively, except for the women I lived with. In other words, cutting off all other rivals or potential rivals so she could deal with the remaining ones at her leisure. But I’d told her before that about my vasectomy. I knew those could potentially be reversed, but I’d had mine done in a particularly permanent way, and with good reason.

She’d told me she always got what she wanted, and her dad had basically confirmed that. If my run-away mind was on the right track, then I’d set up a situation where I’d made two very important enemies. Rather than being a lucky ‘dumb boy’ I was just a plain ‘dumb boy’. I might well have walked right into a situation just like I’d had with Becky. And I’d done it with my eyes wide open.

Samantha was still quiet, and I thought I even saw a tear forming in her eye. I felt bad about that, but if someone was going to speak the truth to her, it was going to have to be me. Her father certainly wouldn’t. And if he wouldn’t, who would? She’d never been told ‘no’ and in my book that meant ‘spoiled brat’. I spoiled my kids, but Jesse was told ‘no’ often enough that on one occasion when he was two, he’d wandered the house saying ‘No, no, no.’ over and over.

“You’re breaking it off already?” Samantha said sounding very sad. “You got what you wanted and now you’re just throwing me away?”

If I hadn’t been a gentleman, I’d have slapped her the same way Karin had slapped me that day at Nilsson’s Gård in Sweden. But I couldn’t do that.

“No!” I insisted. “I’m telling you how to make this work! Jessica and Kara won’t stand for you being a jealous bitch and neither will I. They also won’t stand for you being a spoiled brat any more than I will. If you want an adult relationship, we can have one. If you want a High School relationship, go find some stupid High School boy who’ll follow you around like a puppy dog and lick your boots. You want a man, here I am. If you want a toady, go find someone else.”

“Why are you talking to me like this?”

“Because somebody has to!” I said firmly. “Despite what you think, you can’t have everything you want and buy whatever you want. I’m not for sale. I’ll be blunt again. The ‘Vette is amazing. The house is unbelievable. Your dad’s wealth is beyond anything I’ve encountered before. But I’m not impressed! I LIKE my upper-middle class life. I’m mostly a simple guy. I like living in Hyde Park. I like the karate dojo. I like working. I like cooking. I clean the house and do laundry. I usually fly coach or business class unless I can get comped upgrades and that’s OK with me. I have to think about what I spend money on. And I LIKE that.