The Partner Vote Removed Curtis Before His Price Could Matter

Curtis wanted $120,000, paid within five days.

In return, his letter said, he would give up his claim to the fleet, turn over the yard, and let me use the customer list.

Lena read it once.

"He already owes the business forty-nine thousand two hundred dollars," she said. "And the list is a business record."

"Do we answer?"

"With the agreement's process."

We held the meeting at Maeve's office. Curtis attended with his lawyer. Lena recorded the minutes in plain words while Maeve checked the notice dates and voting shares.

Curtis looked at the blue bundles beside my chair.

"You planning to keep those forever?"

"Long enough."

The first motion removed him from management for the diversion proved in court. My sixty-five percent voted yes. His thirty-five percent voted no.

The agreement required more than sixty percent for that motion. It passed.

The next motion named me the managing partner during the buyout and authorized the bank and service records to be changed under the court's order.

That passed too.

His lawyer checked the minutes before they were signed. Nobody took his ownership away by shouting louder.

Maeve gave each of us a full copy. Mine had the notice, proof of delivery, motions, vote totals, and signed minutes clipped together.

I asked her to check the dates once more.

Curtis made a small sound across the desk.

"Still asking permission," he said.

"Checking the record," I said.

Maeve found no error. I signed where Lena pointed, then waited while Curtis's lawyer read the last page aloud to him. I had waited outside a locked gate. I could wait through one more page if it made this choice hold.

He still held a thirty-five percent financial interest. He could no longer spend business money or sell its equipment.

"I built this," he said.

Maeve capped her pen.

"Then you should have billed it honestly."

Lena served the election to buy out his interest under the misconduct clause. An independent appraiser reviewed the equipment, debts, cash, customer work, and the judgment owed to the business.

The process took a month. Curtis's lawyer supplied his own equipment estimates. Two were accepted. One listed a forge we had scrapped three years earlier.

I found its disposal receipt in a plain expense folder.

Even that small paper had waited longer than his story.

The final net business value was $220,000. That included the business's right to collect the $49,200 judgment from Curtis.

His thirty-five percent was worth $77,000.

At closing, that amount would be split. The business would receive $49,200 to satisfy the judgment. Curtis would receive $27,800.

Maeve drew three boxes on a sheet and wrote each amount inside.

"We're counting the claim in the value and then collecting it from his share," she said. "These boxes have to match."

I could not pull $77,000 from a drawer. My money had become trucks and steel.

I put $22,000 of savings toward the purchase. A local lender approved a $55,000 loan after reviewing our route income, equipment value, and the closing papers.

The monthly payment made me sit quietly for a while.

"You don't have to look pleased," Lena said.

"I just need to know I can carry it."

Maeve and I ran the figures with one rig out of service and fewer winter calls. I could make the payment and keep a repair reserve. It would be tight for a year.

That was a price I chose with the whole page in front of me.

Before closing, I worked beside Curtis once more to collect his personal tools. Paul witnessed the handover. We used the original inventory and marked each item that left.

Curtis picked up an old rounding hammer.

"Remember this?"

"You taught me with it."

"That ought to count for something."

"It does. It doesn't settle the money."

He turned the hammer in his hand, then put it in his box.

I signed the receipt for his keys. He signed for his tools.

On closing day, the money went into escrow. The signed documents provided for the buyout, the judgment payment, and transfer of the operation to my new company. Curtis accepted the appraised price and released his remaining claims.

His lawyer handed over the last title packet.

I checked the rig numbers before signing anything.

The newest truck's number matched the clean dealer invoice. For the first time since October, seeing that number made me think about its next service date instead of a court date.

By afternoon, the business had its $49,200. Curtis had his $27,800. The court received the filed satisfaction of its money judgment and our settlement papers.

At the yard, I opened the gate without waiting for anyone to wave me in.

Then my phone rang.

It was Rena Pike, the buyer who had kept her check.

"Curtis called me," she said. "He says you still need to sell that rig because your customers are about to leave."