Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙
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On the screen was a Google search for Heather Rene Smith, the model on the February issue’s cover.
“I can find her basic information on IMDb,” Julian said.
“I can read news about her on Yahoo.
On MySpace, she has thirty thousand friends.
I can even try to talk to her directly.”
“Give me a few more minutes, and I can find photos.
Maybe even video.
Do you understand video?
Moving images.
She smiles at the camera.”
He let the point hang.
“Why should I spend eight dollars on a magazine just to see a few photo spreads, then stuff the remaining articles into the bathroom magazine rack?
Why not stop at 7-Eleven for a cheap pack of toilet paper, a soda, and an oversized hot dog, go home, open my computer, and entertain myself with more variety and a softer cleanup afterward?”
He looked straight at the executive vice president.
“Tell me, Mr.
Rosenzweig.
Which would you choose?”
“I do not do such disgusting things,” Richard said angrily.
“You may not.
Other people do.
Think about our target audience.
Does anyone still doubt the crisis coming for us?”
Julian’s gaze swept the room, especially the nine who had raised their hands.
One by one, they looked away.
The CFO spun a pen between her fingers, enjoying the discomfort across the table.
The magazine people had spent years looking down on everyone else.
It was satisfying to see someone cut them down to size.
The new boss’s analogy was crude, yes.
But it worked.
“We are not Penthouse.
We are not Maxim,” Richard insisted.
“We have a distinct standard.
That standard is what makes us unique among men’s magazines.”
“I know what you want to say.
Lifestyle.” Julian’s voice sharpened.
“Do you think you can beat Vogue?
Elle?
Even GQ?
Hugh Hefner was a magazine editor.
You are not even that.
You had fifty years to transform this company, and you did nothing.
Now you stand here and tell the successor he has no right to interfere.”
He leaned in.
“Weakness and ignorance do not kill a company.
Arrogance does.”
The words landed heavily.
Even Richard fell silent.
Julian softened his tone and sat back down.
Then he extended his hand across the table.
“Mr.
Rosenzweig, I know you built a friendship with the Hefner family that went far beyond work.
I can even guess you had dinner with Christie Hefner last night.”
“Your perspective limits your thinking.
But I do see loyalty and persistence in you.
Those qualities are rare.
Let us lead this company out of the mud together instead of tearing each other apart.”
Richard looked at Julian’s hand.
After a brief hesitation, he shook it.
The first time they shook hands, Richard had delivered a long speech.
The second time, he said nothing.
“Now,” Julian said, both hands on the table again, “does anyone still believe I should withdraw from daily management?”
People glanced at one another.
No one spoke.
Julian nodded.
In truth, he was not unhappy with these senior managers.
Talk mattered, but people usually argued from where they stood.
The fact that they could listen meant they cared at least partly about the company’s future, not only their own interests.
Were there people here playing both sides, or even still loyal to the Hefners?
Almost certainly.
They simply had not shown their tells yet.
“No one’s position changes for now,” Julian said.
“Everyone will continue with existing duties.
You have already met the two men I brought with me.
William will serve as Richard’s deputy and assist with operations.
Saul will become the group’s chief legal officer.
His team will integrate with the current legal department.”
It looked like he had merely placed two of his own people inside the company.
In reality, he had bought a measure of loyalty and respect while taking two critical levers.
“Finally, about me.
My main focus will be new business development.
I retain the right to review and change existing business lines, and I retain authority over middle-management and executive appointments.
From now on, HR reports directly to me.”
Julian did not want to interfere too much in daily operations.
If he had not needed to secure power, he would not even have bothered with personnel authority.
“Any questions?”
“Mr.
Moretti, my division…” The media director stood, hesitant.
His division included two cable pay channels, two online streaming channels, and an E!
reality show about Hefner and his three live-in girlfriends, The Girls Next Door.
Now that Hefner was gone, the show was dead.
And Julian had publicly sentenced the channels to death in front of the media.
The entire department’s future was uncertain.
“That,” Julian said, scratching his chin, “goes to William.
He will place you and your people.”
By placement, he meant transfers or termination.
Either way, it was unpleasant work, and he had no intention of doing it himself.
“What about next month’s feature?” Richard asked.
“The people are already chosen.
Next month’s theme will be country music.
Any objection from editorial?”
“We did a country theme five years ago,” executive editor Spencer said.
“It can work.”
“Good.
Also, have the archives send a copy of the July 1972 issue to this address.”
Julian had not forgotten the old neighbor in Nashville.
“Meeting adjourned.
William, Rosenzweig, Saul, stay.
I need to speak with the three of you.”
The big meeting had handled the small matters.
The real ones belonged in a smaller room.
The conference room emptied quickly.
Julian waved the three men closer.
“Rosenzweig, this is the first time we have met.
I want a direct answer.
Can I truly trust you?”
“Yes,” the old man said carefully.
“But if you intend to discuss confidential matters, I suggest we change rooms.
The president’s office would be safer.”
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Ready for more?
I hope this chapter drew you further into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.