Offerings Read Online Free PDF

net in the upcoming sale.” Kate smiled at the price, but Peter continued without the slightest acknowledgment of her reaction. “We need to commit by tomorrow so they can prepare the brochure.”
    Kate could live with the price. “That’s a decent amount of money, especially today. We should give that serious consideration.” She began cataloging the debts that could be retired, balancing the cash that might still be coming in with what remained to be paid.
    “I told her one day is too aggressive. I need some time to think about it.”
    “Time to think about it? You need time to think about something that will drop four million dollars in our laps?” If they had the slightest bit of privacy the gloves would have come off. “If you want to think about something, think for a minute of the pressure that much money will relieve.” Kate waved at Sarah, who, unlike some of the other kids who were giggling and making faces, looked serious and deserving of the audience’s reaction.
    “Not this quickly,” Peter said. “I can’t start dismantling what we’ve built.”
    “I’m not asking you to dismantle anything, Peter. We’re de-acquisitioning one painting.” Connie Meyers never used words like buy or sell . They were far too pedestrian for the pure atmosphere of the high-end art world. Kate liked the vocabulary, though. De-acquisition was a perfectly fine word so long as Sotheby’s check cleared her bank.
    “De-acquisition? I thought you just told me all you did was ask about a possible value.”
    “Peter, get real. We owe the banks close to nine million dollars. With the stock where it is we’re way underwater, even with what I make. They know that even if a new buyer comes along its bid won’t top the Chinese by much. We can’t hold them off forever.” Kate whispered through clenched teeth, all the time smiling and waving at neighbors. It felt as though someone had painted the word struggling on her forehead.
    When they lived in Wilton, Sarah and Mack shared a bedroom. They all shared a bath. After Ascalon went public there were no limits. And now, less than three years later, they had nothing but limits.
    “We need the money to make a big enough dent in our mortgages so they’ll give us some time to figure things out. You saw how torn up Mack was the other night.” Kate was prepared to grind Peter down if she had to. She hoped he would be off doing something else the day they crated up the painting.
    “I’m not ignoring Mack, but don’t you want him to have a father who can look himself in the mirror and see someone other than a complete failure?”
    Kate was grateful Sarah finally came within a couple of rows of where they were sitting. At least this discussion had to be tabled for a while. The three of them hugged, smiled, kissed, and then fell into the stream of parents and children walking toward the cafeteria. Kate had her right arm in Sarah’s left. Peter was squeezed in by the crowd a couple of steps behind them.
    Karl Maxwell’s son, Jeremy, played the French horn, a fitting instrument for a boy whose undulating body seemed to fold onto itself, but whose voice still had the lilting sweetness of a boy soprano. He would sing the lead roles for the First Presbyterian children’s choir only until the onset of puberty inevitably robbed him of that gift. Karl came to Sarah’s right and whispered that Sarah was awesome. He and Kate gave each other a fist bump and agreed each other’s kids were stars. Then he kissed Kate on both cheeks and put his arm around Peter. The gesture slowed him a step. Kate knew Karl’s rise and fall from grace. She didn’t like the idea of the two of them talking.
    Karl lowered his voice and moved closer to Peter’s ear, but Kate still was able to pick up a word here and there. “My brother, I saw the other day that Ascalon laid off a good bit of its staff. I know you called it a temporary furlough in your press release, and Lord, how I hope you find an angel,