Phil knew that this was more than just a threat. In all the years they’d been living together, he’d never seen her so mad, not even after she’d discovered he’d been hawking her vintage Hermes scarves for cash last summer. No, she’d really had it with him this time. It’d been more than three years since she’d been able hold her annual Christmas party, the social event of the season that people had done unspeakable things to score an invite to in the past and her patience had long since whittled down to that of a toothpick.
If she wasn’t able to throw it the way she liked– Swarovski-encrusted invitations, go-go dancers dressed as Romans flanking the pool room, ice sculptures done in the family’s likeness, individual raw-bars at dinner, a ‘Maids-a-Milking’ themed after hours– then she wasn’t going to throw it at all. Better to make ‘em wait and come back with a vengeance then serve up a watered down, less hot version of what she was capable of. So they’d agreed on a deadline: Christmas 2014. She’d started working on preliminary plans in August and, yet, as of last month, not one penny had been deposited into her ‘Travel and Entertainment’ fund.
She’d sent emails about it marked ‘high importance,’ pestered his secretary, and finally stormed his office earlier in the week, where she found him doing little more than raking sand back and forth on of those desk trays, rather than hustling to get the money together. She exploded then and she exploded this morning, following him to the front door of the townhouse in her robe and shouting in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t come home with the money that night, he needn’t come home at all. And, honestly? As of lunchtime he was trying to figure out if he had any buddies left who’d let him sleep on the couch, just for a night or two until he’d found something more permanent. And then he remembered something. Page 741 of his employment agreement. Not with Harbinger Capital Partners. Not with HC2. Not with LightSquared. But with the Harbinger Group. Read more »
Like maybe now that he’s got all this free time on his hands, he should lace up his skates and whip the New York Islanders into shape? With his afternoons unoccupied for the next four years and his old Harvard game plans already dug out of the attic, the three-time Ivy League hockey champion is ready to teach these NHL underachievers a thing or two about working a puck. As for his consigliere Wilbur, she wouldn’t be caught dead in Minneapolis, but is happy to entertain offers to tickle the ivories in Brookklyn as Barclays Center organist. See Phil for dressing room demands. Read more »
Remember, back in 2009, when Phil Falcone loaned himself $113 million from a gated investor fund to pay state and federal taxes? Initially his chief operating officer, Peter Jenson, had tried to convince the Harbinger Capital founder to borrow the money against assets like his townhouse, artwork, St. Barts estate, and interest in the Minnesota Wild.
Unfortunately for Jenson, Falcone decided he’d rather be banned from the securities industry than jeopardize his beloved hockey team and told the COO to look into the just-borrow-from-investors option, ultimately deciding it was the wisest idea. It was at this point that Jenson probably should’ve bowed out instead of going along with the plan, which he’s now paying for. Read more »
Falcone, whose Harbinger Capital hedge fund owns the bankrupt LightSquared, a high-speed wireless start-up, is asking the Federal Communications Commission to take “immediate” action to stem the barrels of red ink flowing from the company. In a letter to the FCC, Falcone is urging the regulator to “mitigate further damage” to Harbinger, which invested $3 billion in LightSquared only to see the agency pull the plug on the company in 2012. On Wednesday, Falcone asked the FCC to take “immediate, positive action” to reverse Harbinger’s losses, according to the letter sent by his legal team. [NYP]
As those of you who keep close tabs on the trials and travails of La Familia Falcone know, one of the biggest mistakes Phil made in the last several years was the time he borrowed $113 million from a gated investor fund to cover personal taxes, for which he had failed to set aside enough cash. Falcone learned the hard way that clients don’t take kindly to these sorts of things– even if you pay them back, with interest– and that the Securities and Exchange Commission doesn’t either. Point taken, all that jazz. In retrospect, it might even make sense to Phil re: why people got upset. Having said that, there is no way he, or anyone for that matter, could have predicted anyone would get their panties in a twist over this: Read more »