TREADSTONE LAW · ONTARIO · DIGITAL LEGAL SERVICES · EST. MMXXI ·TSL
Home/Case Studies/Mergers & Acquisitions
№ 280 Case Study — Mergers & Acquisitions

The thirty-day clause that nearly sank an Oakville sale

An Oakville manufacturer's sale was weeks from closing when a routine document review turned up a clause that let his three biggest customers walk away with a month's notice.

Mergers & Acquisitions8 min readOakville, OntarioHidden clauses in customer contracts
All Mergers & Acquisitions case studies
ClientRadu, founder-owner selling his Oakville manufacturing business
The issueThe company's three largest customer contracts each let the customer terminate on thirty days' notice for any reason
ServiceRenegotiated the risk allocation with the buyer instead of accepting a rushed price cut
ResolutionClear win — the sale closed at close to the original price, with the risk shared rather than dumped on one side

The situation

Three weeks before closing, the buyer's counsel sent a two-line email that stopped the deal cold: the diligence team had flagged termination-for-convenience language in the contracts covering Radu's three largest customers, and they wanted to talk before going any further. Radu had built his Oakville packaging manufacturing business from a single machine in a rented bay to a company with a workforce of about forty and a customer base that, on paper, looked stable and long-standing. He had never read those contract clauses as a risk, because in fifteen years none of the three customers had ever invoked them.

The clauses were ordinary in form: each of the three customer agreements let the customer end the relationship on thirty days' written notice, without cause, at any time. Standalone, that kind of language is common in supply contracts and rarely a problem in practice, because switching suppliers has real costs for a customer too. But those three customers together accounted for a large majority of the company's revenue, and a buyer valuing the business was, in effect, valuing three relationships that could legally end with a single letter and a month's wait.

Radu's instinct, once he understood what the clause meant for the deal, was to make the problem go away as fast and as cheaply as possible. He had been managing the sale process himself for months alongside running the company, he was tired, and his first suggestion to us was to just accept whatever price reduction the buyer proposed and get the transaction closed before anything else went wrong. His business partner, Andrei, who held a minority stake and had a real say in whether the sale proceeded on revised terms, was not willing to accept a number pulled out of thin air, and pushed back hard on Radu's instinct to settle quickly.

Andrei and Gurpreet had both joined Radu early, when the company was small enough that job titles mattered less than whoever could do the next thing that needed doing. Andrei had driven a school bus before Radu talked him into taking over shipping and logistics, and Gurpreet had worked as a security guard at a warehouse complex before he became the plant supervisor who dealt directly with the three key customers' own operations staff, week in and week out, for more than a decade. That day-to-day relationship was part of why Gurpreet, when asked, was confident none of the three had any real intention of leaving — a confidence the negotiation would later need to turn into something a buyer's lawyers could actually rely on rather than take purely on his word. Andrei and Gurpreet's years watching the company grow the hard way were also part of why Andrei felt entitled to a real say now that the sale was at risk, and why he pushed back when Radu's fatigue started to look, to Andrei, like a shortcut that would leave value on the table for everyone who had helped build the company, not just Radu himself.

What the file needed was not a fast concession. It needed an actual assessment of how real the risk was, and a negotiation that reflected that assessment rather than the buyer's opening position or Radu's fatigue.

Where it went wrong

The buyer's diligence team, once they found the clause in one contract, went looking for it in the others and found it in all three. Their reaction was proportionate to what they had found: they proposed a price reduction that assumed a meaningful chance of losing all three customers within the first year of ownership, a scenario far more pessimistic than the company's actual history supported.

The deeper issue was that nobody, on either side, had priced customer concentration risk into the deal before diligence surfaced the clause. Radu's own advisors, focused on production capacity, margins, and growth trends, had not flagged the termination language as material, because from an operating standpoint it had never mattered. A buyer's diligence process exists precisely to catch the difference between a risk that has never materialized and a risk that has simply never been tested, and this was the second kind: three customers with every commercial incentive to stay, sitting under contract terms that gave them full freedom to leave.

Radu's push for a fast, cheap resolution would have made this worse rather than better. Accepting the buyer's proposed discount without pressing on the actual numbers behind it would have meant giving up value based on the buyer's worst-case assumption rather than a realistic one, and it would have set a precedent, this late in the process, that the buyer's team could extract further concessions simply by raising new concerns as diligence continued. Andrei's objection, that the company should not just take whatever number the buyer proposed, was the correct instinct, but Radu also could not simply refuse to address the risk at all. The customer contracts were what they were, and pretending otherwise would not survive the buyer's diligence team a second time.

The clause itself could not be fixed before closing. Renegotiating notice periods with three major customers in the middle of a confidential sale process would have signalled that something was changing, risking exactly the customer flight the buyer was worried about, and there was no realistic way to raise the subject with any of the three without tipping them off that the company was under new ownership discussions. The fix had to happen in how the deal allocated the risk, not in the underlying contracts, which meant the negotiation had to produce a number, or a mechanism, that both sides could live with without either one having to guess at odds nobody could actually calculate with precision.

What we did

  1. Pushed back on the buyer's price reduction with the company's actual retention history. We assembled data on customer tenure, contract renewal patterns, and the cost each customer would face switching suppliers, drawing in part on what Gurpreet could confirm from his own ongoing relationships with each customer's operations staff, to show the buyer's worst-case discount assumed a churn scenario with no precedent anywhere in the company's fifteen-year history.
  2. Talked Radu out of accepting the buyer's number outright. We walked through, concretely, what the proposed discount would actually cost him against the low but real probability the buyer's fear ever materialized, and showed him that a properly structured risk allocation would very likely leave more value on the table for him in the end than taking a quick price cut just to end the discomfort.
  3. Proposed an earnout structure tied to customer retention instead of a flat price reduction. Rather than discounting the purchase price upfront for a risk that might never occur, we suggested a portion of the price be paid over the first year or two, reduced only if one of the three customers actually terminated, which shifted the cost of the risk to only materialize if the risk itself did.
  4. Negotiated the retention period and reduction formula line by line. We set the earnout window to match a realistic period during which a departing customer's absence would actually affect the business's value, rather than an arbitrary round number, and tied any reduction to the actual lost revenue from that specific customer rather than a flat penalty applied evenly across all three.
  5. Secured a seller representation limited to disclosure, not guarantee. We made sure Radu was representing only that he had disclosed the termination clauses accurately and completely, not warranting that no customer would ever exercise them, since the latter would have exposed him to liability for a decision entirely outside his control that could happen years after closing, long after he had any way to influence what the customer chose to do.
  6. Kept the customer relationships untouched through closing. We advised against any contact with the three customers before the deal closed, to avoid signalling that anything was changing, and built the earnout mechanism instead around information the buyer could verify independently through the company's own invoicing and shipping records after closing, without anyone needing to ask the customers directly or risk the exact conversation everyone wanted to avoid.
  7. Brought Andrei's approval into the final terms formally. Since Andrei held a minority stake with a real right to weigh in, we made sure the revised structure was presented to him directly, with the reasoning behind each number explained, rather than letting Radu present it to him afterward as a fait accompli, which avoided a second dispute layered on top of the first one.

The outcome

The sale closed within the $3M to $8M range the business had been valued at from the start, with a portion of the price structured as an earnout tied to retention of the three key customers over the following eighteen months. The headline price barely moved from what had been agreed before diligence found the clause; what changed was that a slice of it became contingent rather than guaranteed at closing.

Within the eighteen-month window, all three customers stayed, and the full earnout was paid out on schedule. That result was not something anyone could have promised in advance, and the structure was built specifically so that if a customer had left, Radu would have absorbed a proportionate reduction rather than the buyer bearing a risk it had never priced.

The buyer's own view of the outcome mattered too. Its diligence team had done its job by flagging a real risk, and the earnout structure meant the buyer was not simply asked to trust the seller's optimism about customer loyalty; it had a mechanism that would compensate it automatically if that optimism turned out to be misplaced. That made the buyer comfortable closing on close to the original price, which is not always the case when a late diligence finding threatens to derail a deal this far along.

Radu later said the instinct to just take the buyer's discount and be done with it would have cost him more, not less, in the end. Andrei's refusal to accept an arbitrary number, paired with a structure that gave the buyer real protection without penalizing Radu for a risk that never materialized, got both sides to a deal that reflected the actual likelihood of the problem the clause described rather than the worst version either side could imagine. Gurpreet's read on the three customers, offered early and confirmed by eighteen months of nothing going wrong, turned out to have been the most accurate forecast anyone in the negotiation made.

What you can learn from this

  • A termination-for-convenience clause that has never been used can still be a real valuation risk in a sale; a buyer's diligence team is right to flag it even without a history of it being triggered.
  • The instinct to settle fast and cheap when a diligence problem surfaces late is understandable but often costs more than the discomfort of pushing back with real numbers.
  • An earnout tied to the specific risk a buyer is worried about can resolve a valuation disagreement without either side accepting a guess dressed up as a discount.
  • A seller representation should confirm accurate disclosure, not guarantee future customer behaviour you cannot control.
  • When co-owners disagree on how fast to settle a problem, bringing both into the actual numbers, not just the proposed outcome, tends to resolve the disagreement faster than either side arguing from instinct.
This case study is entirely fictional. It does not describe any real client, file, or matter handled by Treadstone Law, and it is not a real file with details changed. All names, people, properties, businesses, dollar amounts, dates, and events are invented, and any resemblance to a real person, business, or situation is coincidental. Fictional scenarios like this one illustrate the kinds of legal issues people in Ontario commonly face and how a lawyer can help. They are general information, not legal advice — no two matters unfold the same way, and nothing here predicts the outcome of any real case. Reading a case study does not create a lawyer-client relationship. If you are facing something similar, speak with a lawyer about your specific circumstances.

This is a mergers & acquisitions problem we handle

Start a file online — flat, published fees, reviewed by a licensed lawyer before a dollar is owed.

ContactStart a File →