Chapter 13 - MY FATHER IS NOT A SAINT
After Marcus’s plea, half the family turned Arturo into a saint.
He hated it.
Good.
My father had flaws.
He was stubborn.
He romanticized Harbor Crown.
He sometimes refused hearing aids during meetings because he considered them “old-man equipment,” while sitting with a cane.
He could take ten minutes to tell a story that needed two.
He dismissed younger executives too quickly.
He once called an environmental consultant “a weather girl with invoices.”
She was a PhD engineer.
He apologized later.
He also had legitimate concerns about Harbor Crown.
Both.
At the special committee, Arturo gave three conditions for consent consideration.
One:
Bellini would not retain uncapped environmental liability after closing.
Two:
Legacy maritime tenants received meaningful relocation terms.
Three:
A portion of the historic dock facade and workers’ hall would be preserved.
Commercially possible.
Expensive.
Not absurd.
Then the price.
Updated independent valuation came in higher than the original midpoint because a nearby zoning approval increased comparable land values.
Range:
two hundred forty-eight to two hundred seventy-two million.
Meridian had offered two hundred thirty-eight.
Arturo smiled for three days.
I hated how much he enjoyed that.
“You were right about price.”
“Say louder.”
“No.”
“Lorenzo.”
“Never.”
May you like
He laughed.
A capable man can still be petty.
