Only the Strongest Survive

by Ian Fox

  “Thank you, I don’t think I’ve ever been stuck-up.”

  “And I hope you never will be. You wouldn’t believe how many women I know who only a short time ago wore shabby shoes, then married a rich guy and all of a sudden became as snooty and refined as if they had grown up among British royalty.”

  Emely laughed. She turned toward the palm trees, leaned on the metal railing, and remained in that position for a few moments, admiring the tropical fauna. “Isn’t it beautiful? I could stay here forever.”

  “Then let’s,” he said.

  Emely looked into his eyes again and felt feverish once more. She could only hope that she had applied enough foundation to hide the redness on her cheeks.

  She put down her glass, took a few steps away from Blake, and then assessed him from head to toe. He really was special. Trying to decide how old he was, she thought he must be just over forty. He was a mature and confident man, the sort she wanted to meet.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to embarrass you,” he said. “I have to go.”

  Emely was looking at him with surprise as he left the balcony. “Don’t go,” she said, but it was too late, he was already gone. She was trying to remember whether she had seen a ring on his finger.

  Later she met a few more people, but couldn’t stop thinking about Blake. And I didn’t even introduce myself. I don’t know anything about him, she thought on the way home.

  *

  Early Monday morning, the phone in Emely’s office rang. “Hello,” she said in a friendly voice.

  “It’s Erick Estwick.”

  She quietly held her breath. He really is a bore. I’ll have to get rid of him quickly.

  “The reason I’m calling is business. I’d like to invest eight hundred thousand dollars in various securities. You know, I’d like to open a portfolio or whatever you call it.”

  Now she inhaled audibly. He wants to invest nearly a million dollars? My God, these people have serious amounts of money, she thought. “Of course, Mr. Estwick, investing that amount of money certainly is a good idea.”

  “I don’t doubt that at all. Listen, I don’t have much time these days to take you out for a drink. Don’t hold it against me, but I’m buried in work. So I’ll get my secretary to call you in about an hour and you can talk to her about the contract and money transfers and all the other details. Is that alright with you?”

  “Of course, Mr. Estwick.” She could not believe it. I won’t even have to go for a drink. Maybe this Erick isn’t such a bad guy after all.

  “Well then, I wish you a successful day.”

  She was so happy that she immediately had another coffee, the second that day.

  The phone rang.

  “Dr. Grodny here, I’d like to speak to Ms. Donnovan.”

  Well, I never, she thought. “Hello, Dr. Grodny, how are you?” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “Couldn’t be any better. And you?”

  “Not bad, thank you. How come you thought of me?”

  “I have a little bit of money sitting in my bank account and last night I kept thinking about how interest rates are way too low.”

  “Of course, Dr. Grodny, like I told you, we can make your money work much harder here. What sort of sum are we talking about?”

  “Five hundred and fifty thousand.”

  Again she was speechless. If things continued this way, she would soon need at least twenty employees.

  “Great, I’m sure you made the right decision. When can we meet? You know, to sign the contract and so on.”

  “You’ll arrange it all with Sophia, my wife, who’s also my secretary.”

  Emely was horrified. He’s married and more than open about it. She felt as if he had misled her at the ball. Maybe I was wrong, she thought, and said, “As you wish, Dr. Grodny. It’s very kind of you.”

  “My wife and I are celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary. We’re going to organize a small party a week from today, on Friday, in Chicago. It won’t be as prestigious as the one the Baldwins threw, but there will be at least a hundred people there. I’d be honored if you came as well, Ms. Donnovan.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “Of course I will. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, just come.”

  He had already put the phone down. Emely felt like shouting with joy.

  She turned on her computer and figures appeared, showing the values of various shares. She pressed a key and the values of bonds appeared. Nothing very interesting, the market was obviously still asleep. According to her estimation, the following week would be most suitable for investments. If the money arrives in my account by then.

  She picked up the phone and called Baldwin. “I haven’t thanked you yet for inviting me to your party. I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

  Baldwin laughed. “You’ll make it up to me by attending another party. Everyone asked me about you.”

  “You’re very kind. Erick Estwick and Dr. Grodny have already called me.”

  “Did they now? And what did they want?”

  “They both want to invest some money. I’m really grateful to you.”

  “Oh, that. I’ve got something for you as well. I hope another one million eight hundred thousand dollars is enough?”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. All these people are rolling in money.

  “It’s more than enough. You really are too kind.” Her voice was trembling with excitement.

  They chatted for a while longer and then hung up.

  For the next two hours she couldn’t focus on her work. She was so happy, yet at the same time, afraid. What if I make a mistake? What if I lose huge amounts of money? What if I’ve only been lucky until now? What if ….

  She knew it hadn’t been just luck but nonetheless felt a twinge in her stomach occasionally. At the thought that something could go wrong, she began feeling anxious. She decided to take a walk.

  *

  While wandering around the nearby park, Emely observed the people around her and daydreamed about the future. She was aware that success lay ahead of her. She would have to act smart and be careful, and things would only keep getting better. The worst was behind her. She had worked hard and now she’d reap the rewards. With all the experience she had gained she was bound to succeed—at least that was what she thought. I’m finished with poverty. Now I’ll be able to buy a luxurious apartment and, if necessary, get a professional massage every day. I’ll only go to the best restaurants, buy the most expensive clothes, and visit only the most important people.

  She stopped and became serious. Oh no, what am I turning into? Full of myself. No, I must remain modest and not allow money to change me.

  *

  All week she worked from morning till night. In the morning she sat in front of the computer, watching hundreds of graphs showing fluctuations in the value of stocks. And then in the afternoon she tried to forecast the future of those securities. The person capable of forecasting the ups and downs on the securities market would be the richest person in the world. She knew it was impossible. All you could do was look at the history. There were always certain up and down trends, repeated again and again. For over eight years she had been studying the movements of certain securities and reached interesting conclusions. Diagrams showing the movement of a specific share or bond through a specific period were most helpful. Usually this period was from a month to five years at the most. In this way, long-term values could be seen. According to the shape of the curves in the graphs she was able to forecast certain trends with great reliability. She could never be completely certain when buying a security, whether its value would move the way she predicted, but she had noticed that 70 percent of her expectations panned out.

  Often she didn’t notice when the workday ended. Studying shares and bonds occupied her mind so much that time stopped to exist for her. She went to work early in the morning and returned late at night. Sometimes she forgot to greet her employees beca
use the night had been too short for sleeping and she had a feeling she had seen them only an hour earlier.

  She lifted her left arm and looked at her watch. It was Friday and nearly eight o’clock in the evening. Oh, no, it can’t be, she thought. She put her hand on her mouth and said, “Damn it, I completely forgot I was invited to the Grodnys’.”

  She grabbed her keys and ran to the office door. As usual at such a late hour she was alone, everyone else having gone home long ago.

  She locked up and rushed to the elevator. What should I wear? Silly me, how could I have forgotten the party?

  In twenty minutes she was home, took a quick shower, and had something to eat. Then she dried her hair and looked into Sally’s closet. Pleasantly surprised, she spotted a grayish-purple evening gown which should fit her very well since Sally and she had similar figures. On seeing herself in the mirror, she was more than pleased. Now for some makeup.

  Half an hour later she was in front of the building where the party was supposed to be. She paid the driver and gave him a tip.

  Wow, what a villa. The house must have at least twenty bedrooms. The windows were huge and decorated in an interesting way, the entrance guarded by two Greek male statues. As if the president lived there rather than a Dr. Grodny.

  “Oh, Ms. Donnovan, welcome,” Dr. Grodny said, approaching her as soon as she entered the crowded room. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come. I’m very glad you’re here. Tell me, how are my finances doing?”

  “Oh, nothing much to report. This week was pretty dead. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d been on vacation.”

  Dr. Grodny kept searching with his eyes, as if looking for someone. “I’ve got to admit I find you very interesting. A woman who is an expert in stockbroking. Fantastic.”

  “Thank you.”

  From a tray she picked up a glass and took a sip, but immediately choked—she spotted him. Blake Crouse. Her heart began to beat fast and she downed the martini.

  “Oh look, there’s my wife,” Dr. Grodny said. “Let me introduce you.”

  They walked over to a tall, elegant woman who smiled at them kindly.

  “My husband keeps talking about you. I’ll get jealous soon,” she said jokingly.

  Emely didn’t know what to say.

  “He’s enthralled by your profession. He said you trade with money.”

  “Not with money, but with securities,” Emely said.

  “Oh yes, that’s it, that’s what he said.” Mrs. Grodny giggled and then excused herself to go over to an older couple who had just arrived. Dr. Grodny also had to mingle with other guests, leaving Emely on her own. For a while she looked around the spacious room that must have measured at least three hundred square feet. The men, many smiling, were enjoying the elegant atmosphere, and the women looked stunning in their evening gowns. Emely’s eyes stopped on the interesting stucco work on the walls and the expensive chandeliers.

  “I hope I didn’t offend you the other day. I really had to leave.”

  She immediately recognized the voice. “Why should I get offended,” Emely said, lying. “I’m glad to see you. You’re the only person I know here. I’d feel awkward on my own.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t be on your own for long.” Blake looked at her in a friendly way. “There’s a room with a pool table upstairs. Shall we give it a try?”

  His proposal surprised her. “But I’ve never played pool.”

  “It’s easy, I’ll teach you. Anything to get away from this crowd.”

  She followed.

  The only furnishings in the room were a pool table and a drinks bar made of dark wood. The air smelled of cigars.

  “No one will disturb us in here,” he said.

  Emely nodded. She didn’t know what she was letting herself in for. Due to working so hard she had very little experience with men.

  Blake showed her how to hold the cue and, in doing so, brushed against her unintentionally. She shivered.

  The balls waited, nicely arranged on the table. Blake bent over, holding the cue, aimed, and then struck quickly. Every ball shot off in a different direction. Emely loved it. He turned to her, offering her the cue for her turn.

  She forgot her desire and tried to focus on the game. She decided not to let him win easily. Even though this was the first time she played, she wanted to make the most of it. It was in her nature.

  She bent over elegantly and directed the cue toward the nearest ball. She envisaged where the balls would go after she had struck the first one. Racking her brain, she tried to remember the fundamental laws of physics from school. Finally she plucked up the courage and struck as hard as she could. The balls hit each other and the table edges, running here and there like ants when disturbed. But sadly not one ended up in the pocket. I’ll have to aim better. I’ll be more focused next time. She felt slightly on edge.

  “Not bad,” Blake said, and took the cue from her.

  He was luckier and pocketed two balls. It was Emely’s turn again.

  “Let me show you.” He straightened her fingers and put them in the right position. “This is how you should be holding the cue.” He wasn’t aware that by doing this he had completely confused her again.

  She was about to say something, but changed her mind because she thought she may stammer. Instead she focused on his lips and imagined them kissing her passionately.

  “Come on, focus,” he told her.

  She knew she was taking too long, but with the best will in the world she couldn’t concentrate on the game. She wanted to play well, but her hands trembled and she knew that the next move would be the crucial one. She decided to strike, whatever happened. It was just a game. Centering on what she was about to do she chased away the thoughts that didn’t belong there.

  Finally she struck. The ball bounced slightly differently than she had planned, but nonetheless she was lucky. One ball hit another and pushed it into the pocket.

  “You have another turn,” he said, smiling, happy for her to get it right once in a while so that the poor thing wouldn’t give up.

  Emely was getting ready for another shot. She took nearly a minute to concentrate and then she struck.

  “I don’t believe it, you got two balls in the pocket. If you keep this up, I’ve had it,” he said jokingly.

  Emely took the next shot, but this time she was out of luck. The cue ball bounced off the edge of the table a few times and stopped. “Your turn now.”

  He struck the cue ball, but without luck.

  Emely smiled coquettishly. “You watch now.” Thanks to Blake, she managed to get another two balls into the pocket, as his last shot had been clumsy and two balls were close to the holes. She had no choice but finish what he should have done.

  “This can’t be happening, I really am going to lose,” he said, his voice no longer sounding as if he was joking, but worried.

  She was beginning to like the game and decided to take some time in the future and learn to play properly. She had no hobby and could do with one since she was spending too much time at work. Shares, shares, shares, nothing but shares and bonds. Sometimes she had a feeling her life was dull.

  She pocketed another ball, but not as easily. The ball bounced twice before moving toward the opening and then slowly rolled in.

  Blake made a sound of disappointment. He had never been beaten by a woman. “Damn it,” he said when he was unlucky again. No hits. “Let it go to hell.”

  “Well, well.”

  Emely completed the game. She hit the balls with great pleasure and they sped toward the black opening willingly. Blake forgot to close his mouth as he looked at the disappearing balls. In disbelief he realized the game was over for him.

  Embarrassed, he looked at her, wanting to say something funny, but her beauty rendered him speechless. Never before had he felt such attraction. Blake watched her for a few more moments, then went closer and shook her hand. “Congratulations are in order. Considering it was your first time, you played really
well.”

  Emely found it funny that he would congratulate her. The strong pressure of Blake’s hand made her feel uncomfortable. She lifted her head and wanted to say something, but his face was so serious. His lips were moist and parted. Emely’s heart began to beat fast and she could feel herself blushing. She stood motionless in his arms, hoping that his lips would touch hers.

  He put his right hand beneath her chin and leaned over. The first kiss was barely noticeable but immediately after, they were kissing passionately so that they both lost balance for a moment.

  He kissed her once more and pulled her toward him.

  It had been a long time since Emely had felt a man at her side. She had forgotten how it is to want someone. She was hungry for love and tenderness.

  Then she felt his hands slip under her dress and, while sighing and purring like a cat, she let him stroke her bare skin.

  They both heard the door open and jumped apart.

  A man came in and approached the pool table. “Excuse me,” he said as he noticed Emely adjusting her clothes.

  All three exchanged awkward smiles. The stranger immediately left the room and Emely could see him laughing.

  Blake said, “It doesn’t matter.”

  But this was too much for Emely and her Catholic upbringing. Within a second she became aware of her sin and began feeling so embarrassed that she wanted to vanish then and there.

  “I don’t want to even think about it,” she said angrily, and moved away. She opened the door, sped along the corridor and down the stairs and then mixed in with the crowd.

  *

  The whole of the following week Emely did nothing but work. Often she thought of him, but immediately suppressed the thoughts. I can’t do it, she said. Not now, with a career ahead of me. I’ll get a man later.

  But things didn’t work out according to her plans. Blake called her at work. It was Monday and coming up to nine o’clock in the evening. His timing was good; she was getting tired and slightly dispirited. For a few days there had been no good deals and she was getting desperate. When she heard his voice, she cheered up. And she accepted his invitation.