Soul Intentions

by Michael Cantwell

After arriving back home, Kalani didn’t want to hear anything about Mikael Sano or restoring souls. “I've told you before, do your job. Orcus and the Council have been good to us."

  My warm homecoming put me in the mood to do what all new parents do; we took our son to Disneyland. Does it matter to the parents that their child couldn't walk or understand anything about the trip? No, I guess it was more trying to be like a normal family for a few days before going back to work. Besides, my wife looked cute wearing mouse ears.

  After two days of banging my head against the wall trying to remove, “It’s a Small World” out my brain, it was time for both Kalani and I to go back to work. We both had assignments locally, so we split parenting duties as much as possible with our newborn son, Nicon. We called him Nick for short. It would be hard to explain to a babysitter over time why he was not aging like a normal child. Even at a tender age, our kind still ages three times slower than your average person.

  My next assignment was to track and find a subject, who would scheme with an accomplice to steal millions of dollars from unsuspecting investors. Robert Rapio was raised on a farm in rural Nebraska with his parents and seven siblings. As a youngster, Robert excelled in sports and was well known throughout his small community.

  By the time he reached his senior year in high school, the local newspaper ran a story about Robert’s potential.

  “Robert Rapio has the world at his command, despite having never been outside of the state of Nebraska. His understated charm and handsome looks are only outmatched by his intellect. It was hard to imagine that Robert was confined to working a farm much of his young life, and could still achieve all that he had before his college years. A state champion in wrestling, as well as a four-year starter for the boy’s-varsity baseball team. Robert had also been recognized for his outstanding work on the debate team. Do not be surprised if one day in the future, we read about Robert all across front pages of the newspapers throughout the land. Go make us all proud Robert.”

  Robert refused several athletic scholarships to accept an academic one at Northwestern University located just north of Chicago, Illinois. He majored in economics and finance. He went on to graduate at the top of his class. After graduation, he worked for a law firm in New York. He managed contracts and finances, for many sports and entertainment clients.

  Robert's boss sent many accolades in Robert's direction. “Despite only forming this department within our firm recently, you've made it one of the premier sports and entertainment management firms in the nation, not just New York. If you need anything, bang on my door.”

  “Thank you Mr. Peterson, I will.”

  Not only did Robert’s first months go well, so did his first two years. He not only became well acquainted with how to acquire clients, but also the inner working of Wall Street. In his third year working with the Pruitt law firm, Robert became responsible for managing all the retirement options for the firm’s clients. He would also make suggestions on stock investments. Robert had proven at a young age that he had a talented financial mind. However, at times, he did have his detractors, like one of the law firm's biggest clients.

  “Carl, I don’t understand what you see in Robert. Stop looking at his pressed suit and look closer at him. I can’t explain it. There is something about that man that I don’t trust. It’s like he is all out for him and not for me. What happened to that kid you had picking investments a few months ago? You know the college kid, George McAdams? I know I busted his ass in the beginning but when I looked that kid in the eye, I could tell he was really looking out for me. This Rapio guy, not so much. I want George to look over my investments not Robert Rapio.

  “Dan, I love you as a quarterback," Carl Peterson, Robert's boss said, "but you need to worry about reading defenses and not who I hire in this office. You worry about Super Bowl’s and I'll worry about my employees. I love to watch you play on Sundays, but sometimes you are a royal pain in my ass. I had George McAdams work for you and you wanted someone else. I give you Robert and you want someone else. George has to finish college. Robert has already proven to be very creative in retirement plans and tax shelters. I'm trying to get George back after he graduates and you know that, but the kid has to finish school. Now listen to Robert, the man is sharp, Dan. You need to give him a chance.”

  “The guy is a con artist, Carl. He's going to bite you in the ass one day, mark my words. And tell George to hurry up and graduate and start picking my investments again. I don’t plan on retiring any time soon, and Linda wants a nice house in Biscayne Bay, so I need cash now, not thirty years from now.”

  “You need both. Now stop bitching and get out of my office. Robert knows what he's doing.”

  Robert Rapio lived and breathed retirement plans and economics for years. He would study everything from elections across the globe, to oil prices, and everything in between. He tracked how everything affected the jittery stock markets. He was never one to analyze individual stocks like some brokers would, but was a master for recognizing trends. His specialty was timing commodity prices like wheat, gold, oil. Robert would make recommendations on when to buy and sell investments related to those fields.

  Something soon started to eat away at Robert while his ego grew as large as his client’s wealth. It wasn't that Robert was poor by any standards, but compared to his millionaire clients, he paled in comparison. He realized he was watching their portfolio’s grow, while he didn't have the same resources to make his assets grow as quickly as his famous clients. He felt they weren't paying him proper homage for all the success he was delivering to their bank accounts. He thought his clients the professional athletes in particular, would understand it was impossible to be correct on every assumption or trend. Robert felt he was being treated poorly when one of his suggestions failed and received little acclaim when one was a success.

  "Robert, you have to get over the idea that all your clients will forever love you," his boss said. "They're in it for themselves, not you. You fail to recognize that most of them have been coddled and cared for most of their careers. Most don’t give a damn about you, me or this firm, but I recognize that fact. You should too. They aren't here to be your friend. They're here to do business and there is a huge distinction. If you don’t get that, you are doomed to be disappointed with your career here. Now, get over it.”

  “I know that, Carl. I do, but some recognition from them would be nice.”

  “How many times have you been to Yankee Stadium sitting in the box seats over the dug out? That’s their way of showing you appreciation. It is not that they're bad people Robert. However, your job is to make sure when they blow out a knee, or their music hits the discount racks, they have a few bucks saved. Their job is to throw touchdowns, hit home runs or sell out Madison Square Garden. How many times did you send Reggie Jackson a thank you card for a game winning home run? Do your work here, Robert and be satisfied that every year you seem to get a bump in salary and we as a firm recognize the job you do here.”

  “It should be more, Carl. It should be about respect. I'm as good as Reggie Jackson in what I do and no one notices me like they do him.”

  “Robert, take satisfaction in knowing that long after Reggie is done hitting home runs, you will still be at the top of your game, maybe even better than you are now. Your talents will allow you to continue long after many of them are mere faded baseball cards collecting dust in someone’s attic.”

  Months passed, but Robert wanted more. He wanted the glitz and glamour that his high profile clients experienced. He did his best to be featured in the, “Wall Street Journal,” or any other paper or magazine that would print one of his stories. He started to claim that he had a system that would guarantee a minimum of twelve percent return on their investment even in a downward market.

  “Robert, you realize you can't tell your clients you can guarantee a certain return on their investments, "Carl Peterson said. "It will only lead to a lot of trouble for you and our firm. We're not going to allow y
ou to offer such returns. If you would like to quote what you have done in the past for your clients, then fine, but you're forbidden to work here and quote a fixed return.”

  “With all due respect, I can do it. I have a system that has worked for over six months now. There is no reason why it won’t continue.”

  “Robert, I'm your biggest fan, you know that. But I can't jeopardize the reputation of this firm with your bogus claims. It ends today.”

  “Carl, I appreciate all that this firm and you have done for me, but the only thing that will end today is my employment here."

  What Robert didn't tell Carl Peterson was that he had been considering a move to California for months. One of his clients, who was a successful film actor based in Hollywood, explained to Robert that he would gain plenty of clients, if he was based in California. Since Robert had his new system, he knew deep down it was time to make the move. Besides, Robert knew if you wanted to be noticed, why not move to one of the most famous places on earth to be seen?

  Once in California, Robert tried to keep his overhead low, and didn't immediately open up a private office. He did much of his work over the phone or in local restaurants. His friend was true to his word and introduced him to several clients quickly to start his west coast business. With every meeting, the sales pitch was the same. “I will guarantee your money is one hundred percent secure, and will grow at no less than twelve percent each and every year.”

  Over the course of the next year, Robert’s promises held true. All of client’s money grew at a minimum of twelve percent. The word started to spread quickly and because actors tend to be on sets around the world, Robert became less visible, not more. He hired a down on her luck actress Jackie Monet, to help him with daily secretarial items.

  “Bobby, you're like the most famous man in Hollywood that is rarely seen in public," Jackie said. "How cool is that? All these other people pretend they want to hide from a camera, yet they stand there smiling for a horde of paparazzi, but you, all the money people come to you, but don’t get to see you. I think you're the bomb."

  This was never Robert Rapio’s plan in moving to California, but it did make sense in an odd way. He could become famous for not being seen. Why fight for all the attention in the public view in a town where you had to be seen? Why not be famous for not being seen? It was a hard pill to swallow for him at first, but the more distant from the public eye he became, the more people wanted his services.

  He turned the tables on fame and gave the impression he was far too important and intelligent to have time to attend parties and be one of the crowd. The joke was that a few times, he would attend larger gatherings and put on a fake mustache, have his good looking secretary on his arm and no one even noticed him.

  At first, he despised it, but eventually he warmed to the idea of being famous for not being seen. When clients would call asking for a face to face meeting before turning over millions of dollars to be invested in his can’t miss plan, his response would now be, “I have my rules, if you don’t like them, go somewhere else.”

  As silly as that seemed, it worked. When Robert acted like he didn’t want or need their business. Hollywood couldn't wait to give Robert their cash to invest.

  CHAPTER Seventeen