Then she whispered, “Oh, my God.”
Evan slipped his phone into his jacket.
“I believe you're in my seat.”
For the first time since he'd entered the aircraft, Darla didn't know what to say.
Twenty-four hours earlier, Evan had been sitting in a Manhattan conference room overlooking the Hudson River, finalizing the largest acquisition of his career.
The transaction concerned Whitmore & Vale, a luxury American fashion company with nearly a century of history, two thousand employees, several international retail partnerships, and a recognizable brand that had once been associated with impeccable craftsmanship.
Its recent financial performance was considerably less impressive.
Sales had declined.
Inventory costs had increased.
Several planned international expansions had failed to generate the expected returns.
The company had borrowed heavily during an earlier growth campaign, and some of its lenders were becoming increasingly concerned about its ability to meet future obligations.
For months, Whitmore & Vale's board had been exploring restructuring options.
Some proposals involved selling individual properties.
Others involved closing underperforming boutiques.
A few suggested licensing the brand to foreign manufacturers in exchange for immediate revenue.
The most serious proposal came from Cole Meridian Capital.
Evan's investment company specialized in acquiring troubled but fundamentally valuable businesses and rebuilding them through disciplined management, patient investment, and operational reform.
He had a reputation for refusing acquisitions that depended on mass layoffs or financial tricks to produce quick returns.
Not every business he acquired survived.
Not every turnaround succeeded.
But his company's strongest investments shared one characteristic.
They had valuable people, products, or capabilities that previous leadership had failed to protect.
Evan believed Whitmore & Vale fit that description.
Its design archives were extraordinary.
Its reputation remained recognizable.
Its most experienced craftspeople possessed skills that competitors would spend years trying to replicate.
And its best employees had ideas for restoring the company's identity.
What the company lacked was leadership willing to listen to them.
Evan had first become interested in the business after reading a report about the possible closure of its oldest American production facility.
The factory employed experienced garment workers, patternmakers, quality-control specialists, and technicians whose work was central to the company's most prestigious collections.
Yet senior management had begun describing the facility as an obsolete expense.
The proposal recommended transferring production overseas, selling the property, and replacing much of the workforce with external contractors.
Evan asked his team to examine the numbers.
The first analysis was discouraging.