Big Deal

by Soraya May

  “Look, just as Doug says, the implications of this proposal are profound. If we can pull off this bond issue successfully, we will cement our status as market leaders, and it will further drive clients in our direction. The subsequent business from this will be worth—”

  One of the suits interrupts. “Tom, we’re convinced about the benefits if it’s successful. What we’re less sanguine about is what happens to the firm if it fails. We’d be eaten for breakfast; the market would roll over the top of us.”

  Tom raises a finger. I stay quiet, wondering whether to say anything to announce my presence.

  “Believe me, guys, I’m well aware of that.” He looks around the bank of cameras and screens. “I do need time to research this deal, and I made it very clear to Bob that we aren’t going ahead with anything unilaterally.”

  What the hell should I do? Should I interrupt?

  “Tom, if you want us to support this, you’re going to need to demonstrate that you’ve got the right team on board to pull it off. We’ve got a lot of faith in you, and you’ve earned it, but this is a hell of a risk.”

  I cough as discreetly as I can. Tom looks around and sees me. His eyes light up, and he breaks into a smile. I have to take a deep breath. Damn, he looks good like that.

  “Veron—uh, Ms. Haas! Please, come and sit down.” He beckons to me, quickly. I take another step into the room and shut the door behind me. What the hell have I gotten myself into here?

  “Gentlemen, this is the newest member of my team, Ronnie Haas, on temporary assignment from the trainee program. Ronnie, this is the Board of Directors of Walters Capital.”

  Across the screens, six pairs of eyes swivel in my direction. Uh-oh.

  Tom seems inexplicably pleased to have me here. I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to say something or not at this point, but I take the safe option and just smile and nod.

  Tom continues. “Ronnie has particular experience in contrarian algorithmic approaches, and she’s distinguished herself by her performance so far in the training program.” Have I? Oh, great.

  One of the faces, this one with a beard, speaks up. “Good afternoon, Ms. Haas. Perhaps you could summarize for the board the experience you bring to the team. As I’m sure you’re aware, the program of activity Tom has proposed is an extraordinarily aggressive one, and we’re going to need all the expertise we can get.”

  Wild-eyed, I look at Tom. Evidently he’s begun to realize how little I know about what the hell’s going on here, and jumps in.

  “Ronnie has just joined the team, so it’ll be at least twenty-four hours before she’ll be up to speed. Until then, I wouldn’t want to take up your time. She’ll give a full presentation very soon, though.” I will? What the hell on?

  I try to look as intelligent as possible while saying nothing at all. After a moment, the bearded face speaks. “Okay, Tom. Will you excuse us for a minute, please?” Without waiting for a response, all six of the screens cut out. As soon as they do, I round on Tom.

  “Look, Dr. Macaulay—” He holds up a hand, smiling.

  “Please, call me Tom.” I’m undeterred.

  “Look, Tom, am I even supposed to be here? I got a call that I needed to be here for this meeting, and—” Imperceptibly he puts a finger to his lips, and a second later, the screens cut back in.

  “Okay, Tom.” It’s the bearded face again. “You’ve got your go-ahead. The board will support your proposal; you and Ms. Haas,” all six faces look directly at me “have authority to use whatever resources you need to go ahead with this deal. We will have to make some cuts in other areas, but that’s not a major issue.”

  Tom beams. “Great. I’m glad we’re all on board. We’ll get underway with the research immediately.”

  One of the other faces speaks. “Let’s be clear, Tom; we’re putting a great deal of trust in you and your team by letting you do this. Most boards would veto this immediately as too risky. You do know that, don’t you?”

  “I know, Doug, I know. Don’t think I wouldn’t have proposed this if I wasn’t confident we could at least investigate it.” He gestures at me with his left hand. “Ronnie and the team are on it as we speak, and we’ll have a feasibility study with hard data done by the end of next week.”

  Next to Tom, I resist the urge to poke him hard in the ribs—I hardly know the man—but my head is spinning. What the hell is he doing? Instead, the faces flick to me for confirmation, and I just smile as blandly as I can.

  “Alright, Tom. We’re done for the moment. Keep us appraised of the situation.” The screens flick off, and Tom exhales a long breath. For a moment, there’s silence between us, and then he looks at me carefully.

  “Thanks. You did well there.”

  I have no idea what to say. “Uh, thanks. I guess.”

  He continues, hands forward on his knees in a gesture of conciliation. “Look, I know this must be confusing to you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to explain to you what was going on before this meeting, but—”

  He must have seen my eyes, swiveling wildly, and he holds up his hands. “Yes, I agree; I should have spoken to you before bringing your name up. I had assumed that you’d want to be involved, and that was an unfair assumption. Make no mistake, Ronnie, this is the kind of deal that can make careers or break them.”

  At this point I finally lose my temper. “Break careers? I don’t even HAVE a career! I’ve been in this job for one Goddamned week - if it’s even a job, which I’m really not sure - and now you drag me into something which could be the end of my career? What am I even doing here?” I wave my hand at the screens. “This board meeting, you’re planning some deal, right? What is it? How am I involved? What’s going on?”

  He smiles broadly, which this time only infuriates me more. What’s so damn funny? “Ronnie, these are exactly the qualities I was looking for when I said I wanted you on the team. I need someone who isn’t afraid to speak out, someone with new ideas, and that’s you. Look, there’s a lot to explain and—”

  I’m still annoyed. “You’re right there’s a lot to explain. Now you’ve given my name to these people, I’m involved whether I want to be or not, but I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

  “I understand, Ronnie, although you need to know that sometimes I have to make decisions for the good of the team, and I won’t always have time to explain them before I do. So sometimes you’re just going to have to trust me.”

  “Trust you? I don’t even know you.” I thump my handbag down on the table, mostly because I want to work off some frustration at this point. “Look, I can’t work for you unless I understand what’s happening, okay?”

  “Okay, okay. Fair enough. If I explain what’s going on to you in detail, and how I need your help to make it happen, will you agree to work with us for a week? Just a week. If you don’t want to go any further than that, fine.”

  I look at him doubtfully, and he continues. “I’ll go back to Barbara, tell her that you’ve done everything we need you to do, and that’ll be the end of it, I promise.”

  I think for a minute. This is pretty risky, whatever the hell it is. Somehow this guy doesn’t strike me as being someone who plays it safe.

  Momma is always telling me to be responsible.

  On the other hand, whatever he’s going, it’s going to be exciting, and I never could resist a challenge. “Okay, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I still don’t know what, considering I’m only a trainee, but you’re the expert; you tell me.”

  Tom stands up, beaming, and puts out a hand. “Great! Welcome to the team, Ms. Haas.” He winks at me, and I try not to laugh. “You’re going to enjoy the ride, I promise.”

  I take his hand, and shake it, slowly. I’m still frustrated, but I’m suddenly very aware of how close he is to me. Even though it’s a formal gesture, the touch of his skin on mine is immediately electric.

  “Thanks. I’m sure I will.” I hold on to his hand. “Enjoy the ride, that is.” There’s a pause, and we
look at each other. His eyes are on mine, and it’s very quiet.

  A little voice in my head screams what are you doing? This guy is your boss! Let go of his hand! and I do, just in time to avoid embarrassing myself. “I should, uh, go.” I stand up slightly too quickly, and hurry to the door.

  As I’m in the elevator down from the twelfth floor, the door dings open. A couple of trainees get in, holding their briefcases and shoulder bags in their arms. I don’t remember their names, but they were front-row guys. They look miserable, like someone just made their favorite Pokemon faint or something.

  “Hey, guys. What’s up?” I try to sound as bright and cheery as I can. One of them shuffles his feet.

  “We’ve been cut from the trainee program. Don’t know why. Got an email just saying the program was being restructured.” The other one nods dolefully.

  “We didn’t even get to take an exam.”

  The door dings open again, and two more trainees get in, this time a girl—Carol? maybe—and a guy. The look on their faces leaves all of us in little doubt about what’s happened to them. They look at all of us, and nod slowly.

  “You too, huh?”

  “Yep.” Carol looks at me. “Jeez, Ronnie, I’m surprised you got the chop. I thought when you got pulled out of lectures you were heading straight for the big time.” I don’t say anything.

  One of the other guys coughs. “I—I heard it was because of some big deal that just went down on the twelfth floor. Some new initiative Tom Macaulay is running. Like, the firm’s focusing resources on that and so there’s no more room for trainees or something.”

  “Macaulay, huh?” Carol looks disgusted. “I bet those guys like him up on twelve don’t even know we exist. We got told we’re the lowest of the low, right? Something like this happens, we get flushed down the pan without a second thought.”

  Is this to do with me? The elevator doors open, and I decide to beat a retreat. “Guys, this is my floor. Sorry to hear this happened, huh? Catch you round.” A chorus of goodbyes follow me as I hurry away from the elevator. I have no idea what floor I’m on, but I keep walking until I’m out of sight, and then stop, looking at my hands.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  8

  “We’re talking now to Tom Macaulay, the financial mastermind behind Walters Capital, who swept further out in front of the pack last week with a bold Eurodollar play. Tom, welcome.”

  Why are the lights always so damn bright in these interviews? Makes me feel like about to be dissected.

  “Good morning, Dana, it’s great to be here.” Dana Garvey and I have talked often on camera; always cordial and friendly. I have never spoken to her once about anything other than finance, and in fact I wonder, with her perfectly coiffed strawberry-blond hair, and power suits, whether she actually has an existence outside financial reporting. Maybe she just sort of pops into existence half an hour before the cameras start rolling and then pops out again when the lights are turned off.

  Hold on, she’s talking to me. Focus, Tom.

  “Tom, you’ve been hailed as the next great financial genius, and ‘an inspiration to those who want to master the markets.’ What traits would you say have contributed the most to your success?”

  I try not to grimace on camera. “Dana, the truth is I couldn’t do anything without my team. The combined knowledge in Walters Capital is just—”

  She cuts me off. “Come on, Tom, quit being humble. Tell us about your specific skills. What makes Tom Macaulay tick? What makes him—” she pauses here, and crosses her stockinged legs, “get up in the morning?”

  Is she flirting with me? What the hell? “Well, Dana, since you asked, I’ll tell you. If you want to win this game, you need not only constant work, but constant creativity. You can’t stand still; you have to be coming up with new ideas all the time. That’s where my team is so—”

  “Let’s talk about your plans for the future, Tom. What’s next? Have you got your eye on running your own firm?” Swoosh, swoosh go her stockings. “Or are you going to retire, and settle down to,” her tongue comes out and I get a glimpse of gleaming teeth, “a life of luxury.”

  Dana, gimme a break here. It’s too early in the morning for this. “In truth, Dana, I don’t have any plans for the future. Playing the game to win is the most important thing for me. It energizes me every day I come to work, and right now I don’t want to think about anything else. Making money is what I’m good at.”

  “Some would say, Tom, you’re the best in the world at it.”

  As much as I try, I can’t help grinning. “Maybe some would say that, Dana.”

  Dana looks down at her notes. “Let’s talk, then about your very public upcoming deal. Walters Capital announced another bond issue yesterday, the biggest one yet. The press release said nothing about whose idea it was, but it’s pretty clear you were behind it, and it’s already being dubbed the ‘Macaulay Bond.’ Can you confirm for the viewers that you’re in charge of this deal?”

  “Well, Dana, I wouldn’t have given it that name.” I try to look as modest as I can. “But I’m definitely involved,” I sit forward in my chair, “although I stress this will take a lot of work from across the firm.”

  “This is a synthetic bond, correct? It’s designed to mimic the performance of a normal corporate bond, but it’s made up of a number of different investments, right?”

  I nod. “That’s correct, Dana.”

  “So can you tell us what those investments are and how you’ve chosen them?” Dana smiles broadly as she asks this, and she knows I’m not going to answer.

  I make a doleful expression. “I’m sorry, Dana, that would be giving away our secrets, explaining how the trick is done, and that wouldn’t be right, would it?”

  “Having your name attached to a bond issue will provoke a huge explosion of public interest in this, and there will be a lot of people looking to buy into it because you’re involved, wouldn’t you say?”

  I think for a minute. Where is she going with this? “That’s true, I guess.”

  She points her pen at me, and I get a sudden bad feeling. “So, do you think that smaller investors will understand what they’re doing, or do you think they’ll just be following you? If this doesn’t work out, do you see yourself and Walters Capital as having any moral responsibility for the losses incurred by small investors?”

  I spread my hands. “Dana, I—” She’s evidently been waiting to ask this question.

  “Tom, don’t you think that the ‘rock-star speculator’ image which you’ve cultivated leads people into blindly trusting your judgment? If Mom and Pop investors lose money because they think Tom Macaulay can do no wrong in the markets, do you see yourself as responsible?” Next to me, the PR representative shifts in her seat, and I can tell she’s about to say something.

  I pause for a moment. The PR representative takes this as me not knowing what to say, and jumps in. “Look, this line of questioning isn’t at all what we agreed—”

  I wave her into silence. “Sally, it’s fine; it’s a reasonable question, and I’ll handle it.” I look down at the floor, then directly into the camera, and back to the interviewer.

  “Dana, I understand completely where you’re coming from. In truth, I’ve thought about this myself a lot. The conclusion I’ve come to is that all speculation has an element of risk; we all know that,” Dana looks like she’s about to interrupt, but I hold up a hand. “Dana, please, let me finish. All speculation has an element of risk, and no-one is forced to engage in speculation in any way.”

  I turn directly to the camera, addressing it instead of her. “For anyone who’s considering speculating in any market, I really can’t say this clearly enough; please don’t invest more than you can afford to lose, ever. There are a lot of lower-risk investment opportunities, and while Walters Capital just doesn’t have the capacity to respond to public inquiries, your local investment advisor is the ideal place to go to find out about them.”

  I’v
e rehearsed this speech plenty of times, and it comes off my tongue with just the right amount of sincerity. Dana looks like she’s about to ask more questions, but off-camera, Sally intervenes again, this time with a look and a ‘wind it up’ gesture. Dana evidently decides to quit while she’s ahead.

  “And I think that’s all we have time for right now; I’d like to thank Tom Macaulay once more for coming in, and in particular for being so ready to answer questions so openly.” Was that sarcasm? I compose my features into a smile, and extend a hand.

  “Dana, it was a pleasure as always.”

  “Thanks, Tom. We’ll look forward to see what you and Walters Capital come up with in the weeks to come.”

  As the credits roll, studio technicians fuss around me, removing microphones and proffering glasses of water. I try to catch Dana’s eye, and give her a what-was-that-about look, but she’s gone before I can get more than a glimpse of her. To the side of the studio set, Sally stands in front of me, hands on hips.

  “What the hell was going on there? Did you know she was going to hit you with that public-responsibility shit, Tom?”

  I snort. “Of course I didn’t, Sally. We knew after the global financial crisis, though, that those questions were always on the agenda. I’m surprised it hasn’t gotten more airplay already.”

  “Fine, maybe on mainstream media, sure. But here, on a financial channel? When did they suddenly develop a conscience? More importantly, why did they suddenly develop a conscience?”

  “Honestly, Sally, I don’t know. Look, it’s done now. Let’s just see what happens when the interview airs, and make sure we’re more prepped for it next time, OK? I’ll brief the team, and maybe you can work on some standard responses if anyone gets put on the spot. Also, we need to warn the board that it’s in play.”

  “Sure, Tom. I’ll get on it now.”

  “Another thing, Sally.” I stand up, snapping the lid shut on my briefcase. “Reporters are going to be trying to contact the team personally, sniffing around for details. Make sure nobody replies to any emails from news organizations.”