Page 30 of Negotiation Tactics
Ouch. But he’s right. I can’t overrule anything yet, not for another few weeks when I will officially become the CEO. I’ve been attending executive meetings since my return, seen the way decisions are made, but even if I propose something, my father still has to agree to it before the board even considers it. It’s an extra step that’s in place until everything is official, so he can teach me to pitch my ideas as best as I can and put down the ones not worth my time.
“Are you calling me useless, Mr. Anderson? And right to my face, too.”
He waves it off like it’s inconsequential. Which I suppose it is. “I’ve amended the proposal… But I haven’t really changed the terms. We aren’t willing to compromise on this, and I want the commission to meet with me regardless of that.”
They, or dad for that matter, are not going to like this. It’s very unlikely to fly, if they turned the demands down once already. He has to know that. Unless…
“This is what you need me for, isn’t it? You want me to convince them to consider the demands anyway, so the negotiations can kick off.”
He smiles, but it sends shivers down my back. “Bingo.”
For the next hour, he builds onto the arguments he put forth during our initial meeting, going as far as to suggest where Devon Holidays can lower the budgets to make up for not decreasing employees’ salaries. While neither of us is a financial specialist, his suggestions actually make sense. I’ve been looking at ways to optimize our spending, so this is actually great. I can put it in the report I am making and have our finance department go over it.
By the time he hands me over the amended proposal, my brain is already in work mode, trying to figure out a way to steer the commission so that they don’t reject it right away. Because it fucking makes sense, what he’s suggesting. Some of his ideas would improve our efficiency while also promoting loyalty across the company. Yes, some of the higher echelons will suffer, but it’s not like a ten-twenty percent cut is something we’d feel as much as a regular employee.
The problem is my dad. He’s just so stubborn. I’m yet to succeed in making him actually consider my own ideas, and this… It will be challenging to say the least, especially with his rigid views on labor unions. But it’s worth a try. Soon, the company will be in my hands, so it’s time he started taking my suggestions seriously. Maybe I am not as experienced as him, maybe I don’t have his knowledge, but I’ve worked hard to get here. I want to prove I am ready and capable.
But what if it’s a mistake? Josh’s proposal sounds all good on paper, but does it actually benefit us? As much as I want to prove myself, I shouldn’t be reckless. One mistake could drive our company to the bottom, and that is a thought I don’t even want to acknowledge. What if I mess up and it negates all the effort and time my parents have put into this? I don’t know how I’d look them in the eyes then.
Still, it can’t hurt to nudge the commission and dad so they listen to what Josh has to say. I don’t technically have to make the decision, only facilitate a fair chance for the union demands to be heard. It’s all Josh is asking about. Whether he succeeds or gets shut down is not my problem.
The question is—how am I going to handle my dad? Forcing the commission to meet with Josh is one thing, but him? He’s unlikely to be easily susceptible to coercion.
My phone rings before I can figure out a way to deal with him. I glance at the lit up screen. Speak of the devil—it’s my dad.
“Sorry. It’s my dad. I need to take this.”
“Sure.”
I walk over to the wall with the crawling plants, on the other side of the café’s yard. “Hi dad, what’s up?”
“Hi, Alistair. I was told you aren’t in the office. Where are you?”
Oh boy. “No, uh… Wasn’t feeling well. Headache again, so I went out for a walk and ended up grabbing lunch. Why?”
He sighs, and it sounds a little disappointed. “Ah, I see. Well, Christine stopped by. She’s just leaving now.”
Christine? Shit, I hope she didn’t change the terms of our agreement just because I want to keep our dealings to a minimum and strictly professional. “What did she want?”
“To discuss a few ideas she’s come up with for the opening in Singapore.”
He sounds happy, and I don’t blame him. Landing someone like Christine is great, but it doesn’t mean I have to like her now just because she agreed to work with us. Plus, I’ll be doing that photoshoot for her in exchange.
“That was fast.”
He chuckles. “Yes, very impressive. Anyway, this is not what I wanted to talk about.”
A bad feeling twists my stomach. “Okay…”
“I’ve invited her over for dinner, so make sure you are home by six.”
The pleasant mood I’ve been enjoying for the past two hours or so plummets immediately. “I’ve… got quite a few things I need to wrap up. I’m not sure I can make it.”
“Alistair Devon,” he chides, seeing right through my attempt to make up an excuse. “You are attending this dinner. You know how important the opening is.”
I want to scream, maybe to punch something—or someone—but I settle for a ground-out, attitude-filled agreement.
“It’s just a dinner, son. And it will benefit us to be on good terms with her. I know you two don’t have the best history together, but she’s changed.”
