It was one of the most exhilarating feelings of my life. I had just closed the biggest deal of my career. 

After 18 months of ups and downs, I sat at the closing table in Milan and watched my client sell an industrial-scale infrastructure asset for more than €50 million. I ran the entire deal with my business partner. We sourced the buyer, got through due diligence, coordinated with the lending banks, completed government approvals, and closed it.

It was my first time doing high-level M&A from front-to-back.

During the closing, I watched the buyer wire my client tens of millions of Euros. The CEO showed me the account balance on his phone at the celebratory lunch after the closing. Lots of zeros and commas.

And while my client got their tens of millions, my bank account was running on fumes. Since it was one of my first deals, my advisory contract had a 100% success fee. 18 months of work on spec. Unless my client got paid, I didn’t get paid. 

That day, my client got paid. More paid than I had ever seen in one shot.

After lunch, the CEO assured me that they would wire my success fee the following week. I said “OK” and flew home.

I was mentally exhausted, but proud. Throughout the 18 months, there were several times when I thought: Maybe this isn’t going to happen and all this work will be for nothing. But no, I found my way to the finish line. I hung in there. And now I was about to be hundreds of thousands of Euros richer. Or was I?

After a few days, I started checking my bank account every morning. I’d fire up my bank’s mobile app and wait for my new and improved bank balance to appear. But nothing. No wire. Day after day. No new money in my account.

I let a few more days pass and called the CEO at his office to check on the wire. He didn’t answer. I left a message for him to return my call.

The next day, I received an email from him: 

Samuel, on behalf of myself and the Shareholder, we’d like for you to come visit us here at our offices in Eurasia. It would be our pleasure to handle all travel and lodging accommodations for you. Please coordinate details with our office, and come as soon as it is convenient for you. Best regards, -CEO

Interesting, I thought. I had visited their offices a few times, but always at my own request – and always on my own dime. It was nice to be invited and feel taken care of.

And then it hit me. They were summoning me so they could try to renegotiate my fee. 

These were shrewd business people. Some of the staff members at the company previously mentioned their lack of urgency when it came to paying their bills. And I had seen some of their business tactics myself, during our deal together.

But overall, I admired these guys. They were cagey sometimes, even with me, but mostly in a good way. They knew how to hold their cards and play them only at the right time. They played defense when things weren’t to their advantage, and struck forcefully when things were. 

And most of all, they knew how to hold their tongues and only share information when it suited them. 

So I knew I was in for a test. They requested a face to face meeting so they could use their tactics on me. They figured they could warm me up, get me talking and then slide me into negotiating against myself.

I accepted their invitation and booked travel through their office – business class, high-end.

About a week later, I took a redeye from Amsterdam and walked out of the airport in Eurasia on a clear summer morning. A driver was waiting with my name printed on a company-branded placard. He insisted on taking my luggage and escorted me to my car, waiting for us at the curb.

I had been in Eurasia before, but this time felt different. This time I felt like an MMA fighter landing in Vegas, getting ready for a big fight. My spidey senses were up. I wanted my fee and I knew they were going to make me fight for it.

I arrived at their offices around midday and greeted everyone. I had coffee with the staff and hung around a bit. The CEO invited me into a conference room for a light meal. It was pleasant. Neither of us mentioned the topic of my fee. He said the Shareholder wanted to meet with me that afternoon. 

For clarity, in that part of the world, ‘Shareholder’ means the owner. The boss. The big cheese. I met him a few times but only briefly. The most time I had spent with him was at the closing a few weeks prior. He didn’t talk to me much.

The CEO asked me to hang out in the conference room for an hour or so. He said he would come collect me when it was time to go upstairs to Shareholder’s office.

I did some work on my laptop and eyed the clock. An hour passed. Two hours passed. 

Shareholder was stalling. Another test.

More hours passed. The office emptied out. Another light meal was offered, which I ate alone.

It was dark outside when the CEO finally came to escort me upstairs to meet Shareholder.

As we talked up the stairwell towards the office, I saw two staff members standing frozen like sentry guards on each side of the doorway. I felt like I was going to meet the Sultan. Or Ghengis Khan. 

Another symbol of power, trying to impress itself upon me – trying to mentally degrade me.

At that moment, I knew I needed some power of my own.

My instincts kicked in. I had to do what they would do: I had to hold my cards and play tight. They were going to try to butter me up and get me talking. If I talked myself up, they would push me to defer some of my fee to a future speculative project. If I downplayed myself or got defensive, they would pounce and push for a discount. 

I needed to play a higher level of chess. I needed to do… nothing.

Sometimes, especially when the deck is stacked against you, your best move is to be still.

I vowed to myself that I would not break a silence in the meeting. Not once. 

Be polite. Curtly answer questions. And then shut up. Don’t initiate. 

I walked between the sentries into a palatial office. It was massive, well-decorated and classy. The lights were dim for the evening. 

Shareholder got up from behind his banker’s desk and walked around to greet me. We shook hands and he pointed me towards a sitting area with plush sofas and a coffee table. 

The sentries came in with an assortment of boozy drink options and hors d’oeuvres. It was over-the-top, but I appreciated the gesture. I had, in fact, just made these guys a lot of money. 

I poured myself a drink and pretended to sip it. There was no way I was going to drink alcohol and muddy my wits, but I played along. 

And then, after exchanging pleasantries, the game began.

I leaned back into the plush sofa and looked at my opponents. 

Shareholder sat in a large throne-like chair, positioned at the head of the sofas. He looked relaxed, with one knee perched on the other. The CEO sat on the sofa across from me, happy to be facilitating the meeting. Little did he know the work he had cut out for him.

They both stared at me, waiting for me to say something.

For about ten seconds, I felt anxious. My mind raced and I questioned my strategy: Was I really going through with my ‘never break the silence’ strategy? This was a really important meeting, I thought. These guys are my clients – they’re on my side, right? Besides, I really need the money. 

I gathered my nerve. I wasn’t caving. Not tonight. Tonight I was going to be the silent man.

So I sat there and stared right back at both of them. They smiled and sipped their drinks. A minute passed, but it felt longer. The first void of silence always feels longer.

Finally, the CEO broke the silence. “So, Samuel….” followed by some unimportant question. He was filling dead air.

I answered him succinctly, with a cordial tone. Then I shut up and let the room fill with silence.

I took another fake sip of my drink and reclined back into the sofa, totally unbothered.

Another minute passed. Maybe two. The second void of silence was longer, but felt shorter. I was getting the hang of this.

Shareholder glared into my eyes, trying to read me. I gave him nothing back – just a friendly nod.

The CEO broke in again, “So, Samuel….” followed by another filler question.

Again, I answered succinctly, with a cordial tone. And then I shut up.

By this point, I was having fun – loving this new game. 

This went on for at least 20 minutes. 20 minutes of awkward (for them at least) periods of silence, interrupted by brief, polite commentary. 

After a while, Shareholder stood up. “Come here, I want to show you something” he said, motioning towards the wall behind his desk.

Stretched across the back wall was an expansive topographical map of Europe and Eurasia. Shareholder walked over to it and pointed out the locations of his projects and real estate holdings. It was impressive. 

I stood behind him half-a-step and let him release his ego, which he did in an elegant but ardent manner. I said nothing during his map session. 

Then he turned to me and said, “We’d like to engage your services to assist us with selling off some of these other assets as well.”

After a long pause, I said, “I would be honored to consider the opportunity.”

And with that, he shook my hand and walked me to the door.

I felt free and fluid as I walked down the steps. I hadn’t caved. Despite holding weak cards, I held them close to the vest and played tight. I deflected their power moves and made some of my own.

One of the sentries had my belongings waiting for me by the front door. The CEO came up behind me and said, “I called a taxi for you. I’ll walk you out.”

We walked outside into a dark, starry night. The CEO was quiet until we got to the taxi, where he gave my shoulder a squeeze and looked me dead in my eyes. 

“Nice move,” he said.

Then he turned on a dime and walked back inside.

I flew home the next day. When I landed, I checked my bank account. 

They wired the full fee.