Read Online The Deal by Adam Gittlin - Free Book Online

sheet, you have to be bigger than the amount reflected by your net worth, which for him is roughly between seven and eight hundred million dollars. Like anything in life, he taught me, you always need to remember that without the little parts the big parts don’t work. You have to be willing to go the extra yard, not sometimes, but all the time, to get a deal done. A businessman in the game is only as good as his last deal, the same way an athlete still playing is only as good as his last season.
    I often remember a conversation we had when I was in business school. I was involved in some mock trial based around a huge corporate scandal. I was an expert witness for the defense. I explained to him that our grades would be affected by the trial’s outcome, and that it appeared we were going down in flames.
    “I’m in a corner, Pop. I need this grade.”
    “Then what the fuck are you doing wasting your time calling me? Get out there and attack the situation head-on!”
    “How, Pop? I told you, I’ve exhausted all of my options.”
    “Bullshit. Don’t ever let me hear those words come through your lips again. That kind of a statement only comes from a soft, weak business mind. Options are infinite. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. If the rules don’t work, then you throw those fucking rules out the window.”
    “But Pop, when—why would—”
    “If there’s a trial going on, then there must be a jury. Am I right?”
    “Of course.”
    “You find out who the poorest students are on that jury, the students on financial aid, and you float them a sizable incentive to ensure a certain outcome. Mission accomplished. Everyone gets something they need.”
    “Yeah, but what if—”
    “Stop thinking so much, Jonah. You need to learn to react. You need to understand that the ability to pull the trigger, in any situation, is what separates the men from the boys.”
    I sat silently and processed the words.
    “You must always stay on the offensive. You must always keep pushing forward at all costs. Are you hearing me?”
    “Attack the situation. Go get what I need.”
    “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
    His answer was to pay the jury off.
    I did.
    We won.
    “Enough about this boring crap,” Pop went on as he crunched on some more nuts, “Tell me what you’ve got for Andreu.”
    My father, the man who taught me to tell time in a meeting by glancing at the other guy’s watch and never my own, also taught me that you never unveil the full picture until you have your facts 100 percent in order. Not 80 percent, not 99.9 percent—100 percent. As with life, in business you have to own everything that comes out of your mouth. You have to be the words, regardless of whether those words are true or false, regardless of whom they may hurt. There can never be one shred of doubt. Every syllable that passes your lips, every thought, fact, must come out as if it were carved in stone someplace.
    “I still have one or two questions that need answering before I’ve got it all lined up.”
    “He came to you because your team’s the best. Because he has confidence in your ability to dazzle, as he should. At least tell me this—you going to dazzle him?”
    “So far, Pop, my hunches have been right on.”
    “You didn’t answer my question.”
    Frankly it wasn’t just the Andreu Zhamovskys of the world who I had ever been concerned with dazzling.
    “With all due respect, I may even dazzle you with this one.”
    His eyes started to wander over my shoulder, around the dining room.
    “Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see about that.”
    Then, as if he’d been tagged with an epiphany, he returned his vision to me.
    “Actually, you came kind of close with that last deal. The Levingworth Building. Down on Water Street.”
    “Nothing like this, Pop. I mean it, nothing like this.”
    “You keep it up, one day I just may let you work for me.”
    I felt lucky, honored by this comment. I felt chosen, almost loved.
    If only I’d