Chapter 16: Take the Money

Fourteen months after the auction, Good Dog Supply had eleven stores and a card in my wallet that I had never thrown away.

The man in the gray suit called on a Monday.

He offered three point one million dollars for all eleven stores, the name, and the weekly rescue contract.

"He gave us till Friday," Ben said, when I hung up the speaker.

We were in the back room of the Dorothy Lane store, at the long table where we held the Monday meeting.

Eight managers sat around it with coffee and doughnuts.

One of them was the boy in the gray hoodie, who was nineteen now and ran the Springboro store.

"Three point one," said the manager from Beavercreek, slowly. "Is that a lot?"

"It's a lot," said Ben.

"It's not enough," I said.

Ben turned in his chair.

"Not enough for what?"

"For eleven stores that make money in their first year. I want twelve more."

"We don't have the cash for twelve more."

"We will in two years."

"Vicky." He put his doughnut down. "Half of three point one is one point five five."

Nobody at the table moved.

The boy in the hoodie became very interested in his cup.

"I know what half of it is," I said.

"That's one point five five million dollars. It's what he owed you."

"I'm not selling my store to get paid back for his lie."

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