Donвђ™t Get The: Deal

"The terms have changed," Elias said, standing up. "Or rather, I have. My people aren't line items on a spreadsheet. They’re the reason this company exists. If this deal requires their heads, then there is no deal."

"I can't do it," Elias said. The words were quiet, but they cut through the room like a blade.

"You're walking away from forty million dollars over sentimentality?" Marcus laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "You'll be bankrupt by Christmas." Don’t get the deal

Write a where the choice has immediate consequences.

"Everything looks in order, Elias," Marcus said, his voice smooth as oil. "Sign on the dotted line, and we can all go to lunch." "The terms have changed," Elias said, standing up

His fingers touched the cool paper. The pressure from his board of directors was immense. The prestige was beckoning. But the pit in his stomach had grown into a chasm. He realized that "winning" this deal meant losing his soul.

"Maybe," Elias replied, tucking the pen into his pocket. "But I'll be able to sleep on Christmas Eve." They’re the reason this company exists

Elias looked at the "Exit Strategy" clause. It promised him wealth, but it guaranteed the termination of three hundred employees—people who had worked in his garage when the company was just a dream. He thought of Sarah in accounting, who was putting her son through college, and Mike in the warehouse, who had just bought his first home.