Chapter 5: The Negotiation Gambit Martin woke with his neck bent at an angle that sent pain down his shoulder blade. The couch cushion had left an impression on his cheek. Light came through the window showing it was morning, though he couldn't tell what time without his phone. He sat up and reached for the device on the coffee table. Dead. Completely black screen. He'd forgotten to charge it before passing out. Martin stood and walked to his bedroom to find the charging cable. His legs were stiff from sleeping in the same position for however many hours. The cable was tangled with his headphones on the nightstand. He plugged in his phone and waited for the screen to light up. The time showed 6:04 AM. Thursday morning. He'd slept maybe three and a half hours. The phone vibrated continuously as notifications loaded. Seventeen new emails had arrived since the battery died at 2:04 AM. Martin unlocked the screen and started reading. The first email was from Jennifer Marks at the law firm. It had arrived at 3:47 AM, which seemed late for a lawyer to be working. The message was brief and formal. Ms. Marks wanted to clarify that the forty-eight-hour deadline for restoring the escrow funds was firm and non-negotiable. Her client had authorized her to proceed immediately with filing a civil complaint if payment of three thousand eight hundred dollars was not received by end of business Friday. The email included language about reporting the escrow violation to state business regulatory authorities and the Better Business Bureau. Martin deleted the email and moved to the next one. The Colorado retailer had sent three messages. The first asked if Martin had received their inquiry about the expanded four-thousand-unit basket order. The second, sent an hour later, mentioned they were on a tight timeline and needed confirmation of manufacturing capacity. The third email, timestamped 5:23 AM, said they were reaching out to other suppliers if Martin couldn't respond by noon today. Three other emails were from manufacturers asking questions about pending orders. One was spam about SEO services. Two were automated notifications from his platform about profile updates. The remaining emails included one from the Oregon furniture retailer asking about contract specifics, another from the Washington homeware retailer following up on the ceramics inquiry, and one from a new potential client asking about leather goods suppliers. Martin set his phone down and went to make coffee. His kitchen was small enough that he could reach the coffee maker without leaving the doorway. He filled the reservoir with water and added grounds from a container that was running low. While the coffee brewed, he returned to his bedroom and checked his laptop. The escrow account interface showed the same numbers from last night. Three thousand dollars had been moved from the existing manufacturer's allocation to his operating account. The basket manufacturer's deposit transfer was scheduled to process this afternoon. The coffee maker beeped. Martin poured a cup and drank it black because he'd run out of milk two days ago. The coffee was too hot and burned his tongue slightly. He needed to figure out the math again. David Chen wanted three thousand eight hundred dollars by Friday afternoon. The basket order commission would be three hundred twenty dollars but wouldn't arrive for weeks. The expanded four-thousand-unit order would generate a forty-eight hundred dollar commission, but only if he could find manufacturers capable of handling that volume. Martin opened a new browser tab and searched for basket manufacturers. His platform had one active basket supplier who couldn't handle more than four hundred units. He needed to find others who specialized in handwoven products at scale. The search results showed several options. A cooperative in Maine that produced baskets using traditional techniques. A manufacturer in Oregon that handled large wholesale orders. A family business in Kentucky that advertised custom weaving. He started drafting inquiry emails to all three, explaining that he had a client seeking four thousand handwoven baskets with a six-week delivery timeline. Could they handle a portion of that order? Before sending the emails, Martin's phone rang. The caller ID showed a number he recognized as David Chen's mobile. Martin answered. "This is Martin." "We need to talk about the escrow situation." David's voice carried less anger than the previous call but still sounded tense. "I got the email from your lawyer." "The deadline stands unless we work something out right now. My partners want to move forward with legal action. I convinced them to give you one more chance to propose a realistic solution." Martin walked to his window and looked at the street below. A garbage truck was making its way down the block. "I can't get you the full amount by Friday." "Then we're filing the complaint." "But I can get you two thousand within forty-eight hours." Martin was making this up as he spoke. He had no idea where two thousand dollars would come from. "And the remaining eighteen hundred within two weeks. Plus I'll give your company priority placement on the platform's homepage and waive commission on your next order." David was quiet. Martin could hear background noise that sounded like machinery or production equipment. "How do I know you'll actually deliver the remaining eighteen hundred?" David asked. "I have deals closing over the next two weeks. The commissions will cover it." "You said that about the three thousand you already took. What's different now?" "I've got a Colorado retailer interested in a bulk order worth sixty thousand dollars. If even half of that closes, the commission covers everything I owe you plus operational expenses for months." "If it closes. You're asking me to trust that deals that haven't happened yet will somehow materialize and pay me back money you already spent." The garbage truck pulled away from the building across the street. Martin watched it turn the corner and disappear. "I'm offering you priority placement and waived commission," Martin said. "That's worth more than the escrow violation in terms of future business value." "Future business value doesn't mean anything if your platform collapses because manufacturers don't trust your escrow system. Which is exactly what happens when you move funds between accounts without authorization." "The two thousand restores most of the allocation. The remaining eighteen hundred is less than half your final payment. You could absorb that temporarily without affecting your production schedule." David didn't respond immediately. Martin heard voices in the background but couldn't make out words. "I need to discuss this with my partners," David said finally. "They're not going to like it. The lawyer already drafted the complaint." "Tell them the priority placement means their products get featured to every retailer that visits the platform. That's exposure they can't buy anywhere else." "Exposure doesn't pay our material suppliers." "It generates orders that pay your material suppliers. You've already seen that with the current contract. More visibility means more orders means more revenue." Another pause. The background noise got quieter, like David had moved to a different room. "I'll talk to them today," David said. "But I'm not promising anything. If they want to move forward with legal action, that's what we're doing. The deadline is still Friday unless you hear otherwise from me directly." "When will I hear back?" "By end of business today. And Martin? Don't move any more money around. If my partners find out you're pulling the same stunt with other escrow accounts, they'll assume you're running some kind of shell game and we'll have bigger problems than a contract violation." The call ended. Martin set his phone on the windowsill and finished his coffee. The garbage truck was two blocks away now. He could see it stopping at each building to collect bags and bins. His laptop was still open to the manufacturer search results. He needed to send the inquiry emails about the four-thousand-unit basket order, but first he needed to understand if splitting the order was even possible. Martin called the original basket manufacturer from the four-hundred-unit order. The phone rang six times before someone answered. "Wilson Basket Company." "This is Martin Shaw from the artisan connection platform. I facilitated the Colorado retailer order earlier this week." "Right, the four hundred units. We got your deposit transfer scheduled for this afternoon." "I have a question about production capacity. If I had a client wanting four thousand units with a six-week timeline, could you handle that volume?" The person on the other end laughed. "Four thousand? Not a chance. We're a small operation. Four hundred is pushing our limits as it is. Four thousand would take us six months minimum, and that's if we stopped all other production." "What if the order was split between multiple manufacturers? Could you handle eight hundred units in six weeks?" "Maybe. We'd have to bring in additional weavers and source more materials upfront. The deposit would be higher because of the volume. Probably fifteen thousand just for materials." Martin thanked them and ended the call. Fifteen thousand for eight hundred units meant the full four-thousand-unit order would require around seventy-five thousand in deposits if split between five manufacturers. The Colorado retailer wasn't going to pay that much upfront. He pulled up the email from the Colorado retailer and read it again. They wanted four thousand units delivered in six weeks for a flagship store grand reopening. The email mentioned this was part of a larger inventory plan but didn't specify payment terms. Martin started composing a response. He needed to be honest about capacity limitations without losing the opportunity entirely. The email took twenty minutes to write. He explained that a four-thousand-unit order exceeded any single manufacturer's capacity but could potentially be fulfilled by coordinating multiple suppliers. He asked if the retailer would be open to splitting the order between three or four manufacturers, which would require slightly different delivery timelines but could meet the six-week deadline overall. Before sending, Martin added a question about payment terms. Large orders typically required deposits to cover material costs. Would the retailer be able to provide a deposit, and if so, what percentage of the total order value? He sent the email and immediately regretted it. The message made his platform sound unprepared to handle large orders. A more established marketplace would have manufacturers lined up ready to scale production. Martin was scrambling to find anyone who could contribute partial fulfillment. His phone showed 7:42 AM. He'd been awake for an hour and a half and had barely made progress on either crisis. David Chen was going to call back by end of business with his partners' decision. The Colorado retailer needed a response by noon. The lawyer's deadline was still hanging over everything. Martin sent the inquiry emails to the three manufacturers he'd found in his search. The Maine cooperative, the Oregon wholesaler, the Kentucky family business. Each email asked the same questions: could they produce eight hundred to one thousand handwoven baskets in six weeks, what would the pricing look like at that volume, and what deposit would they need upfront? Two auto-reply messages came back immediately. The Maine cooperative's email said they were closed for the winter season and would resume operations in April. The Oregon manufacturer's auto-reply mentioned they were experiencing high order volume and responses might be delayed up to five business days. The Kentucky business didn't send an auto-reply, which hopefully meant someone would read the email sooner. Martin's laptop showed a new email notification. The Colorado retailer had responded. He opened it expecting questions or concerns about splitting the order. The message was three sentences. The retailer appreciated Martin's honesty about capacity limitations. They'd done some additional research and found that splitting large orders between manufacturers often led to quality inconsistencies and delivery complications. They were going to work with a different supplier who could handle the full volume through a single production source. Martin read the email twice. The sixty-thousand-dollar opportunity was gone. The forty-eight hundred dollar commission that would have solved his escrow crisis had evaporated because he'd been honest about his platform's limitations. He closed his laptop and stood up. The coffee had left him jittery but not alert. His apartment felt smaller than usual. The original four-hundred-unit basket order was still active. The deposit was transferring this afternoon. The Colorado retailer hadn't canceled that contract, just the expansion. Martin would still earn three hundred twenty dollars in commission in a few weeks. Three hundred twenty dollars wouldn't restore two thousand to David Chen's escrow account. It wouldn't pay the lawyer's demand. It wouldn't cover warehouse rent or food or any of the other accumulating expenses. Martin's phone rang again. Unknown number. He considered not answering but picked up anyway. "This is Rebecca." His sister's voice sounded cautious. "I got a weird email from a law firm this morning asking about your business. What's going on?" Martin sat back down on his couch. "What did the email say?" "Something about a breach of fiduciary duty related to an escrow account. They wanted to know if I had any financial stake in your platform or if I'd loaned you money for the business. I didn't respond yet because I wanted to talk to you first." "It's a contract dispute with one of my manufacturers. The lawyer is trying to find assets they can go after." "Are they going to come after me because I loaned you money three years ago?" "No. That was a personal loan, not a business investment. They can't touch it." Rebecca was quiet for a moment. "The email made it sound serious. Like you'd stolen money or something." "I moved funds within my platform's escrow system to cover a cash flow gap. The manufacturer thinks it violates our contract terms. We're negotiating a resolution." "By negotiating you mean you're trying to avoid getting sued?" "Yes." "Martin, this is exactly what always happens. You start something, it runs into problems, you make desperate moves to keep it alive, and then everything collapses. I can't watch you do this again." "I'm handling it." "You're clearly not handling it if lawyers are emailing your family members. What do you need?" "Nothing. I don't need anything from you." "The lawyer wouldn't be contacting me if you didn't need something. How much do you owe?" Martin closed his eyes. The ceiling crack was probably still there even though he couldn't see it from this angle. "Three thousand eight hundred by tomorrow afternoon." Rebecca didn't say anything. "I'm working on getting two thousand together by Friday," Martin continued. "The rest will come from commissions on deals that are closing over the next couple weeks." "You don't have two thousand dollars?" "Not liquid. I have pending transactions but the money isn't accessible yet." "So you're asking me to loan you two thousand dollars." "I'm not asking you for anything. You called me." "Because a law firm emailed me about your business failures. Again. What am I supposed to do with that information besides offer to help?" Martin opened his eyes and stared at his blank laptop screen. "I can't take more money from you. Sarah already gave me an ultimatum about the loan from three years ago. If I borrow from you now, I'm just spreading the damage to more family members." "Sarah's dealing with her own stuff. This is between us." "No. I'm not doing it." Rebecca sighed. "Then what's your plan? Hope the lawyer decides not to file? Hope the manufacturer accepts an IOU?" "I'm negotiating with the manufacturer's partners. If they agree to a payment plan, I can restore two thousand within forty-eight hours from other platform funds and pay the rest over two weeks." "Where are you getting two thousand from if you don't have it now?" Martin didn't answer. He didn't have two thousand. He'd told David Chen that to buy time, but the actual source of those funds didn't exist yet. The furniture order deposit would be six thousand two hundred, but accessing that money would create the same escrow violation he was trying to resolve with David. "Martin?" "I'll figure it out." "That's not a plan. That's wishful thinking." "It's what I have." Rebecca was quiet again. The phone line carried ambient noise from wherever she was calling from. Sounded like she might be in her car. "I'll transfer one thousand to your account," she said. "That's what I can spare right now without affecting my own bills. Use it to negotiate with the manufacturer. But this is the last time. I'm serious. If this platform fails like everything else, I'm done helping you start over." "I can't—" "You already said you can't. I'm telling you I'm doing it anyway. Check your account in an hour." She hung up before Martin could argue further. He set his phone down and put his head in his hands. His sister was bailing him out again. Another family member throwing money at his failures. Another relationship strained by his inability to make something work. But one thousand dollars plus whatever he could pull from other sources might actually equal two thousand by tomorrow. If Rebecca transferred it within an hour, and if Martin could find another thousand somewhere else, he could make the first payment to David Chen's company. Martin stood and went back to his laptop. He needed to find one thousand dollars by end of business tomorrow. The furniture order deposit was six thousand but untouchable. The basket order deposit was three thousand but already spent. The ceramics inquiry was still in specification review with no contract signed. He opened his bank account interface and reviewed recent transactions. The warehouse rent was due next week. His credit cards were maxed. His car payment had already come out this month. The account showed eleven hundred dollars available. Martin transferred one thousand dollars from his checking account to a separate account he'd set up for platform operations. The balance dropped to one hundred. He'd need to buy groceries and gas at some point, but those could wait. One thousand from Rebecca plus one thousand from his checking account equaled two thousand. Exactly the amount he'd promised David Chen within forty-eight hours. His phone buzzed. Email from the Kentucky basket manufacturer. They'd received his inquiry about the eight-hundred-unit order and wanted to schedule a call to discuss specifications and pricing. Their standard lead time was eight weeks but they might be able to compress it to six weeks depending on current production capacity. Martin replied suggesting a call time later today. The Colorado retailer had already moved on to a different supplier, so the inquiry was pointless now. But having backup manufacturers for future orders made sense if his platform was going to survive long enough to need them. Another email arrived. The Oregon furniture retailer was asking about contract amendments. They wanted to adjust the delivery timeline from ten weeks to twelve weeks because their retail locations weren't opening as quickly as planned. Could Martin facilitate that change with the manufacturer? He forwarded the request to the New York furniture maker and waited for their response. Timeline changes usually didn't affect pricing, but sometimes manufacturers charged fees for disrupting production schedules. Martin checked the time. 9:17 AM. He'd been awake for three hours and had managed to secure two thousand dollars through family bailout and draining his checking account. David Chen would call by end of business to report his partners' decision. The lawyer's deadline was still tomorrow afternoon. His laptop showed another new email. The Washington homeware retailer had reviewed the ceramics specifications with the New Mexico studio and wanted to move forward with an order. Five hundred custom dinner sets at forty-two dollars per unit. Total order value of twenty-one thousand dollars. Martin's commission on twenty-one thousand would be fifteen percent. Three thousand one hundred fifty dollars. He immediately drafted a contract using the platform's template and sent it to both parties. The homeware retailer signed within twenty minutes. The ceramics studio took another forty minutes but eventually signed as well. The order was official. Twenty-one thousand dollars with a three-thousand-dollar commission. Martin reviewed the payment terms the homeware retailer had requested. Twenty percent deposit, thirty percent on delivery, fifty percent at net-thirty. Twenty percent of twenty-one thousand was four thousand two hundred dollars. That deposit would flow into the escrow system within a few days once the invoice processed. But accessing that deposit would mean repeating the same escrow violation that had created the current crisis with David Chen. Martin couldn't move those funds without triggering another manufacturer complaint. His phone rang. David Chen's number. Martin answered. "This is Martin." "My partners agreed to the payment plan." David sounded tired. "Two thousand by end of business Friday. Remaining eighteen hundred within two weeks. Priority placement on the platform and waived commission on our next order." "Agreed." "But if you miss either deadline, we're back to legal action immediately. No more negotiations. The complaint gets filed and we pursue full damages plus attorney fees." "Understood." "And Martin? If we find out you're moving money around in other escrow accounts, the deal is off. My partners are only agreeing to this because I convinced them you're not running a scam. Don't make me look like an idiot." "I won't move any more funds." David hung up. Martin set his phone down and exhaled. Two thousand by tomorrow was covered. Rebecca's transfer plus his own checking account depletion. The remaining eighteen hundred would need to come from commissions over the next two weeks. The ceramics order would generate three thousand dollars in commission, but the payment schedule meant most of that wouldn't arrive for over a month. The basket order would generate three hundred twenty, but that was weeks away. The furniture order was on a twelve-week timeline now, which meant no commission for three months. Martin needed deals that closed faster. Orders with shorter production timelines and quicker payment schedules. He opened his manufacturer database and filtered for suppliers who could deliver within two weeks. Seventeen manufacturers showed up in the search results. Most were small operations making items like candles, soaps, or simple textiles. Lower price points but faster turnaround. Martin spent the next hour drafting outreach emails to retailers who might be interested in quick-turnaround products. A boutique hotel chain that might need custom soaps. A gift shop looking for seasonal candles. A home goods store that sold small decorative items. By 11:30 AM he'd sent nineteen outreach emails and received three auto-replies plus one rejection. The rejection was from a retailer saying they'd already established supplier relationships and weren't interested in new platforms. His phone showed a calendar reminder. Warehouse rent was due in six days. Martin still owed eight hundred dollars from last month plus twelve hundred for the upcoming month. Two thousand total. He'd just promised two thousand to David Chen by tomorrow. The math was getting worse instead of better. Every solution created new problems. Every commitment required money he didn't have. Martin's laptop showed another email notification. The Kentucky basket manufacturer wanted to confirm the call time for this afternoon. They had availability at 2 PM or 4 PM. Which worked better? He replied suggesting 2 PM even though the order inquiry was no longer relevant. Building manufacturer relationships still mattered for future opportunities. Another email arrived from a new potential client. A museum gift shop in Philadelphia asking if the platform had any suppliers of handcrafted jewelry. They were looking to refresh their inventory for the spring season. Martin searched his manufacturer database for jewelry makers. Four results came up. He forwarded the inquiry to all four with a note about the museum's specifications and timeline requirements. One manufacturer responded within minutes saying they specialized in exactly that type of work and would send a quote directly to the museum. Martin confirmed he'd facilitate the transaction if it moved forward. The museum gift shop replied thirty minutes later asking about commission rates for orders under five thousand dollars. Martin explained the ten percent structure and sent them the platform's standard terms. His phone rang again. Unknown number. Martin answered cautiously. "This is Jennifer Marks from the law firm representing your manufacturer client." Her voice was formal and precise. "I understand you've reached an agreement with my client regarding the escrow matter." "That's correct. We agreed on a payment plan." "My client has asked me to draft a formal settlement agreement outlining the terms. I'll need your signature before close of business tomorrow to make this official. Without a signed agreement, the original demand letter terms remain in effect." "What does the settlement agreement include?" "The payment schedule you negotiated, the priority placement arrangement, the commission waiver, and a clause preventing any further movement of escrow funds without explicit authorization. There's also a liquidated damages provision if you default on the payment schedule." "How much in liquidated damages?" "Ten thousand dollars, plus attorney fees and court costs." Martin walked to his window and looked out at the street. The garbage truck was long gone. A few people walked past heading to lunch or errands. "That seems high for an eighteen-hundred-dollar remaining balance," Martin said. "The liquidated damages reflect the total harm to my client if you default, including reputational damage to their business, lost opportunity costs, and the expense of pursuing legal remedies. It's standard for settlement agreements involving fiduciary violations." "I need to review the agreement before signing." "I'll send it within the hour. Your signature is required by 5 PM tomorrow or the settlement offer expires." Jennifer Marks hung up. Martin sat back down on his couch. A formal settlement agreement with ten-thousand-dollar penalties for default. If he missed the eighteen-hundred-dollar payment in two weeks, he'd owe ten thousand instead. The risk had just multiplied. His laptop showed two new emails. The first was from one of the jewelry manufacturers saying they'd spoken with the museum gift shop and agreed on terms for a thirty-five-hundred-dollar order. Could Martin facilitate the contract? The second email was from the basket manufacturer confirming the deposit transfer had processed. Production would begin immediately and the four-hundred-unit order would be ready for shipment in three weeks. Martin drafted a response to the jewelry manufacturer confirming he'd set up the contract. Ten percent commission on thirty-five hundred was three hundred fifty dollars. Another small amount that wouldn't arrive for weeks. He created the contract and sent it to both parties. The museum signed first. The jewelry manufacturer signed twenty minutes later. Two deals closed today. The ceramics order and the jewelry order. Combined commissions of three thousand five hundred dollars. But the payment schedules meant most of that money wouldn't arrive until late next month. Martin updated his financial spreadsheet with the new numbers. The projections showed a narrow path to covering the eighteen-hundred-dollar payment in two weeks if at least two more deals closed with faster timelines. But the spreadsheet required assuming everything went perfectly. No production delays, no payment disputes, no unexpected costs. His phone buzzed. Text message from Rebecca saying the thousand-dollar transfer had completed. Martin checked his bank account and confirmed the deposit. His platform operations account now showed two thousand available. He initiated a wire transfer for two thousand dollars to David Chen's company account. The bank interface prompted him to confirm the transaction details. Martin reviewed them twice before clicking submit. The transfer would complete by tomorrow afternoon, meeting the Friday deadline. One crisis temporarily resolved. Martin's laptop showed another email from Jennifer Marks. The settlement agreement was attached as a PDF. He opened it and started reading. The document was eight pages of legal language outlining every detail of the arrangement. Payment schedule, priority placement specifications, commission waiver terms, escrow fund restrictions, and the ten-thousand-dollar liquidated damages clause. There was also a section requiring Martin to maintain adequate platform reserves to cover all outstanding escrow obligations. He didn't have adequate reserves. His checking account showed one hundred dollars. His platform operations account would be empty again after the two-thousand-dollar transfer cleared. The only accessible money would be whatever commissions trickled in over the next few weeks. Martin read through the settlement agreement one more time focusing on the liquidated damages section. If he defaulted on the eighteen-hundred-dollar payment, he'd owe ten thousand plus attorney fees. If he couldn't pay that, the manufacturer could pursue judgment against his personal assets. His car, his apartment deposit, whatever was left. There was a signature line at the bottom of the final page. Martin stared at it for several minutes. Signing the agreement locked him into a payment schedule he had no reliable way to meet. Not signing meant the original demand letter terms remained in effect and the manufacturer would file their complaint tomorrow. Either option led to potential financial ruin if deals didn't close on time. His phone rang. The Kentucky basket manufacturer calling for their scheduled 2 PM conversation. Martin looked at his laptop screen showing the unsigned settlement agreement. He looked at his phone showing the incoming call from a manufacturer inquiring about an order that no longer existed. He looked at the ceiling crack that definitely seemed wider than it had this morning. The phone kept ringing.