[ WP ] The contractual wrangle during a hostile takeover of a donut empire .

`` State your name for the record.'' 
 
 `` Jack Dunlap.'' 
 
 `` And your relationship with Mark.'' 
 
 There were no tables as nice as this one in the shop. A slab of polished mahogany stretching across the room, probably cost as much as the mortgage back in'68. Jack preferred the stiff white diner tables, still there from opening day, now grimy and scratched up. His scratches. Mark's scratches. 
 
 `` We were partners.'' 
 
 Across the great wooden divide, Mark made a movement as if to speak, but said nothing. 
 
 `` Gentlemen, we are here to finalize the terms of the acquisition. All matters related to the corporate transition have been settled, and what remains,'' the mediator checked the legal pad before her, `` is the deed for the shop at 15277 South Crenshaw.'' 
 
 Mark had found a second location not far from Crenshaw, in a wealthier part of town. They talked late into the night, about new markets and financial stability and franchising. Jack mostly listened. 
 
 `` Now, Mark is willing-'' 
 
 Why,'' came Jack's voice through clenched teeth. `` Why do you have to have this one. THE one. I'll change the name, it's not ours since the day this whole thing became yours. But why do you have to have the shop.'' 
 
 `` Jack, we've been over this.'' Mark's voice was patient, patronizing. `` There's no legacy without the origin. There's no Dunlap Doughnuts without it. This is how we grow -'' 
 
 `` Grow into something greater, yeah.'' Jack stared at him, past him, through him. `` Heard it before.'' 
 
 `` But you still do n't believe it.'' 
 
 `` I believe it just fine.'' 
 
 Mark shook his head, turned to look out the window. 
 
 `` You think it's just about money.'' 
 
 `` What else would it be?'' 
 
 Mark had pitched it to him after 6 months at the second store. The logo popped off the paper, large lettering bellowing the name at him: DUNLAP DOUGHNUTS. The mockup sat on top of blueprints and renovation sketches. 
 
 `` The shop was never enough. You always wanted more.'' 
 
 `` And you did n't, which is why you're on that side of the table and wearing a smock stained with grease.'' 
 
 `` He wanted you to leave. That's why he let you.'' 
 
 When Mark turned to face him, there was genuine pain stitched in the lines of his face. 
 
 `` I just wanted to make you both proud.'' 
 
 Jack felt the wood with his fingertips. It must have cost a fortune. Being in this room for weeks on end must have cost more. 
 
 `` Fine.'' 
 
 The mediator passed a single sheet of paper to Jack and handed him a pen. He scribbled a signature, stood up. Mark rose to meet him, buttoning his quote and extending a hand. Jack shook his head and turned towards the door. 
 
 `` I'm just doing what he was always trying to do, Jack,'' Mark called after him. `` I wish you could see that.'' 
 
 Jack stopped, but did n't turn around. 
 
 `` Maybe you will someday,'' Mark said, louder than before. It was unclear to everyone who he was trying to convince. 
 
 Jack walked out the door. 
 
 ****************************************************** 
 
 After the shop closed each day, Jack would sit on the counter and count the tiles on the floor, listening to the radio and the sound of trays being sponged clean in the back. The neon sign blinking DOUGHNUTS would cast a warm orange glow through the window. It only flickered now as Jack sat on the counter once again, once more. 
 
 The bell at the front door chimed softly. 
 
 `` You know the sign out there is busted, right?'' 
 
 Jack did n't look up from the counter. 
 
 `` Been busted a while. Lot of things have.'' 
 
 Mark nodded, looking everywhere but Jack's eyes. 
 
 `` I do n't understand why you did it. But thank you.'' 
 
 `` You're right. A legacy needs the origin. Now you have it.'' 
 
 `` Jackie.'' 
 
 `` Do n't call me that. We're not kids anymore.'' 
 
 `` Jackie, it's just business.'' Mark was pleading now. `` It's only a donut shop, after all.'' 
 
 Jack gave him a smile as broken as the neon out front. 
 
 `` It was n't to dad. Was n't to me. Wish you could have seen that.'' 
 
 Mark stared at him, past him, through him. Jack walked around the counter, clapped him on the shoulder and opened the door. The bell chimed. 
 
 `` Maybe you will someday.''
