"We need to celebrate," Bethia said after she had locked the door behind the departing purchasers and both lawyers. "We need wine. I need to sit and absorb all this."
"David and I will get the wine, Tante." Maria took Bethia's arm and moved her toward the curtains. "What should we bring up?"
Bethia stopped and stared at her copy of the signed and witnessed contract. "I still can't believe this. This is far more than I dreamed." She shook her head and looked up from the papers. "Wine, yes. Go bring up a bottle of the 1911 Blauburgunder – no, bring up two bottles to save the extra trip. We need to celebrate this. Careful with the sediment; we didn't filter it. The key is on the hook by the kitchen door." She looked back at the document, then added, "And get a bottle of the 1911 Weißburgunder also while you're down there."
David stepped through the curtains with a huge smile creasing his face as he wrapped Bethia in a hug. "Loved the casual way you said a quarter million. Loved their immediate reaction. You're a great negotiator."
"It was all you, David. It was your detailed analysis, your lengthy calculations, your wisdom, your common sense. You coached me very well. It was so simple with all that behind me. So easy to be confident."
"A confident person negotiating from a solid position will prevail in situations where both parties want to do business. The secret to negotiating is to find your position and then determine what the other side wants. We knew what you had; we knew the Großkopfs wanted it. The rest was simple." He tilted his head toward the courtyard door. "We'll go get the wine."
Bethia placed two cradles on the parlour sideboard, ready for the reds, and she was arranging eight large crystal ballons when David and Maria returned from the cellar. "I'm thinking," she said, "I have some pork tenderloin hanging to age before I cure and smoke them to Klettgauschinken. We can roast two of them for dinner. But wine. Let's have some wine and celebrate. I still can't believe how this has turned out."
They sat silently, nosing and sipping the Weißburgunder, lost in its wonder. Bethia finally said to David, "Your perceptions amaze me. Your grasp of the Großkopfs' position, your prediction of their opening offer, your assuredness they would settle at your price. I'm in awe."
"For years, I watched Dad negotiate with both sellers and buyers. After a while, I saw patterns, and I saw what worked and what didn't. I guess things sunk in. The valuation was simply from applying some of my schooling in business appraisal."
"How did you arrive at two thirty-two?"
"There are many ways to assess the value, and I ran calculations for several of them, arriving at numbers between two twenty-four and two forty. The average was two twenty-eight, but I chose the mid-range rather than the average."
"I did some cyphering while you were in the cellar," Bethia said as she lifted a sheet of paper. "I owe you eleven thousand, five hundred Marks as a commission. Five per cent of the selling price."
"Tante, no. That's not at all necessary." He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "I was delighted to help you with it, but I want no commission, no compensation. Helping you get fair value is my reward, and sharing your superb wine and your warm hospitality is more than enough."
"I insist. I'll be deeply disappointed if you don't take it. You made me over a hundred and twenty thousand more than I would have settled for. After the lawyer's fees and your commission, I'm still left with in excess of a hundred and ten thousand more than I would have had without your assistance. I insist you take it. You've more than earned it."
"Mamère taught us that to graciously accept is to give. By accepting a gift, we give pleasure to the giver. To spurn the gift is to deny the giver pleasure." He slowly nodded. "I'll accept your generous gift."
"But this is not a gift, Sweetheart. My God! Now I have three sweethearts. I'm so blessed. It's not a gift, David; it's a well-earned commission for your wonderfully valuable work. The completion date is Thursday the twentieth, a week tomorrow. I'll have a bank draft prepared."
"There's no rush. I can't open a bank account here – besides, the Mark will be falling in value as the war continues. The Swiss Franc should be more stable, so I'll wait until I cross the border ..." David shook his head. "But back to here, to now ... This wine is magnificent." He pointed toward the cellar. "Seeing the barrels down there while we were getting these reminded us we need to help you with bottling. Have you a bottle supplier?"
"Aaron always looked after that. I'll go through his wine files. We'll need about twenty-five hundred bottles, but we can look at all that tomorrow. Now let's just relax and enjoy. I'm so delighted you've stopped in to visit."
They spent the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening chatting and savouring the wines. Shortly after the clock cuckooed seven, Bethia moved them to the kitchen, and she and Maria began preparing dinner while they all continued chatting.
"When's the next delivery to Freiburg?" David asked Bethia. "We should make plans for Maria's return to school. The lorry will be available for only another week."
"Don't worry about the lorry, Sweetheart. I renegotiated the deal with Herr Großkopf as the lawyers were drawing up the papers, and I offered to drop two thousand off the price if I kept the old lorry."
"I love the way you think. The lorry will be useful for many purposes." David chuckled, then added, "So you didn't miscalculate the commission. Love you, Tante Bethia."
YOU ARE READING
Missing
Historical FictionIn the early months of the First World War, a young Canadian soldier uses quick thinking and ingenuity to evade capture after being wounded fighting in Flanders. While escaping through Germany to the Swiss border, he becomes intimately entwined with...