The Willingness to Burn

by J. P. London

  Before he knew it, Maddy and he were sitting at a table facing opposite their family and friends. The wedding was over and the ceremony had already begun. The vows, Jace could remember clearly, but they felt unimportant. Their vows were to each other and didn’t need words to be spoken out loud. The words that they said on that altar were for everyone else. And at that point, he was no longer nervous. He had known that she was the girl for him long before the special day. And when he turned around and saw her. That feeling, the one when the world stopped, was all the solidification he needed. The rest was just a formality.

  “Who would have thought? That the secret to Jace’s heart was throwing coffee on him?” Evan said and the crowd laughed.

  “You know, just the night before they met, Jace was telling me about how he just barely believed that true love really existed. And that two people could truly complement each other, that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Little did he know that just hours later he would find out that two people truly can complement each other, and that coffee truly can complement a good suit.”

  The crowd laughed again.

  “Love works in mysterious ways. It’s elusive, sometimes confusing, and always on its own schedule. And for a guy who deserves only the best in life, it was only a matter of time.

  “Jace, Maddy, I’ve seen you two for the past few years, and I’ve seen Jace for quite some time before that, and I’ve seen the love you have for one another. And that’s why I know that you two are the perfect couple.

  “So will everyone please raise their glasses, and toast the new Mr. and Mrs. Clark!”

  The glasses were raised and the champagne was sipped as a kiss between the bride and groom was showered under a roaring applause.

  For the next two days, the party overtook the Grand Hilton. Their wedding had more than three hundred guests and more than one hundred stayed the four days that the wedding of the ages lasted. It was the party beyond a party. And once the formalities were over, the new couple were finally able to relax and enjoy it. It was a weekend that would last in both of their memories as the greatest celebration of their lives.

  Chapter 18

  “Jace, you look great!” Mark said as he pushed the door open and walked into Jace’s office.

  “Mr. Hendricks is here,” Susan said over the speaker phone.

  Jace laughed. Mark smirked and poured himself a glass of orange juice from a pitcher near the mini bar before taking a seat on the couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Thank you, Susan.”

  “She does try, doesn’t she?” Mark grinned.

  “She does, man.” Jace chuckled “Poor girl.”

  “I’m gonna have to explain to her how things work around here. When I need to raid your bar, I can’t have her giving you warning,” Mark joked then took a sip of his orange juice. Mark choked and coughed.

  “Oh my god, what is this?” Mark looked at Jace with a desperate look of betrayal on his face.

  “It’s orange juice.”

  “Jesus Christ! And you just sat there and let me drink it?” Mark stood up and walked back to the mini bar. “Fucking kids today, no manners at all.” He trailed off as he poured vodka into his juice until the orange color was converted to a pale yellow. “So, anyway, you look fucking great. How was the honeymoon?”

  “Yeah, it was good man, thanks. That’s what two weeks off will do for you, ya know?”

  “No, I don’t know. I haven’t taken two weeks off since I got married. And shit, one of those weeks was for my divorce.”

  Jace laughed a sympathetic chuckle.

  “So, how was it?”

  Jace pushed away from his desk and took a seat across from Mark on the couch. “It was great, man. There’s just so much to see, I wish we could have stayed longer.”

  “Yeah, it’s never long enough, is it? “ Mark took a swig from his cup.

  “Nah, I guess not.”

  “Did you make it to Rome?”

  “Yeah, but only for a day.”

  “Well, at least you got to go there.”

  “Yeah, but there’s so much. Between the Coliseum and the Vatican; we are definitely going to have to go back there.” Jace stood up and grabbed an orange juice. He raised the pitcher toward Mark in a gesture of offering.

  “Christ, no, just bring the vodka.”

  Jace smirked.

  “You know, one day when I’m rich and famous I’ll make it back there,” Jace continued as he sat down and had a sip of his orange juice.

  “Yeah, that’s what I used to say,” Mark said, grabbing the bottle and changing his pale yellow drink into a slightly tarnished clear beverage.

  “So, what changed?”

  “Well,” Mark began, pouring some vodka into Jace’s glass.

  “Mark!”

  “No one likes to drink alone. Christ, it’s almost 10 o’clock.” Mark placed the bottle down and took a sip of his drink. “So, when you do this for long enough, it becomes an addiction.

  “You mean drinking in the morning?”

  “As I was saying,” Mark continued, seemingly unfazed by Jace’s slight. “Once you get to a certain point, you have to keep doing it. You start to build and you start to see the angles. You can make a mil here, another there.”

  Jace picked up his drink, took a sip, and leaned forward, listening carefully.

  “You see, you spend all this time working toward something and then when you finally get it, you can’t let it go. Because now you have so much to lose. Like take this, for example. What if I take a month off and just go sail the Caribbean? And in the meantime, something major fucks up because I’m not here. Now I come back, my interests have gone to shit, my relationships are burned, and I’m one step away from being kicked out the door. This is all about results, it’s all about performance. And you can’t perform unless you keep your head in the game. You always need to have your finger on the pulse.”

  “But you’re a partner now, doesn’t that mean yachts and models?”

  “Yeah, but it also means I gotta keep all of you in line and make sure the ship rides smooth. I might be on a yacht, but on my laptop the whole time. Might as well stay here.” Mark shrugged. “Like I said, it’s all performance. We lose a hundred mil because I’m nailing a hooker in Thailand and you better believe the big guy is kicking my ass. Speaking of which, that’s why I’m here.”

  “What’s up?”

  “One of Bert’s friends is opening a REIT.”

  “Okay.”

  “And we need you to throw your fund into it.”

  “Wait, why?”

  “Because he needs more funding. I don’t know, he’s going to buy an assload of government land and convert it into who the fuck cares. I emailed you the docs.”

  “Yeah, but my fund is killing it right now. And it’s going to take some time to get all the money out anyway.”

  “That’s all right, as soon as you can,” Mark said, downing the rest of his drink and standing up.

  “But wait. We hit over 50% last year. Why in God’s name would you pull it now.”

  “It’s Bert’s call, man. I have nothing to do with it.”

  “And Bert doesn’t like making money?”

  “Bert’s got more money than God. And for some reason whoever runs this REIT has an in with him.”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “And as his employee—” Mark enunciated with his hands letting his words drag out “—you need to pull the money and throw it into this guy’s REIT. Got it?”

  Jace stared at him, burning through him with his irritation. “I want to talk to Bert about this.”

  “He doesn’t want to talk to you. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Mark …”

  “Hey man, this is the way it goes. When the big guy makes a demand, we don’t get a say. We’re just here to carry out the orders of the General.”

  “Right. Well, tell Bert I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

  “
What? Why? Because of this?”

  “Well, I was going to spend the rest of my day figuring out when a merger was going to go through so that we could buy in at the right time and clear 40% in two months or just under two hundred million for the laymen, but since I don’t have to do that anymore, I’m going to take the rest of the day off.”

  Jace stood up and grabbed his jacket He threw it over his arm and walked out of the office.

  *

  Jace got back to the apartment and found himself alone. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the bar and a glass and took them both over to the couch. He needed to think, and more than that, he needed to drink. It was one of those moments, one of those decisions that defined a man in the world of business. Would he do as he was commanded and secure his salary, perks, and most likely partnership at the firm? Or would he revolt, and cast everything that he had worked for aside in lieu of some vague notion of the “right” thing?

  It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to take the money away from his other investments, the people he had built relationships with, and damn good ones at that, it was that the people who invested in him invested in him and in his vision. They invested in his ability to spot an actionable project and move on it, leveraging their money and capitalizing on it. And him letting their money go to Bert’s REIT was against everything that he stood for. If the REIT did well, then he would be getting credit for something he had no say in. If it went to shit, which it probably would, then he would have to explain the loss to his clients. It was a lose/lose situation for him. Bert, that son-of-a-bitch, was basically clipping his nuts, simply because he could.

  And furthermore, most REITs go absolutely tits up on the grounds that people running them are stock guys and have no fucking clue what they’re doing when they get involved with them. That’s why his contacts were so valuable, because they actually knew what they were doing and they never asked for more money than they could use. Their pay structure was based on performance, just as Jace’s was and just as everyone in the finance industry should be.

  Jace tipped the glass back and shot a mouthful of the brown liquid into his throat. It burned, but only a little with that slight sting that you should expect from expensive liquor but no bite, just a smooth aftertaste.

  “Hey, honey,” a voice startled Jace and he jumped.

  “Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home.”

  “Yeah, Brent went golfing so he gave me the day off.” Maddy walked up and kissed her husband.

  “Well, that was very nice of him.”

  “Wasn’t it? Two weeks off then another day off, I just hope he’s not getting over me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not the case at all,” Jace said, pulling his wife down on top of his lap.

  “So, are you celebrating or mourning?” Maddy motioned to the empty glass and open bottle of scotch.

  “Ehh, not quite mourning, but almost.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got a visit from Mark today.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Could you …” Jace said, motioning toward the bottle of scotch.

  “Sure.” Maddy grabbed the bottle and filled Jace’s cup, placing the bottle down on the floor next to the couch. “So you got a visit from Mark…?”

  “Yeah, and Bert is pretty much clipping my wings.”

  “What?”

  “He’s taking away my funds, essentially.”

  “He can do that?”

  “Yeah, they’re still my funds, but he’s taking creative control.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that if anything goes wrong, everyone’s going to blame me, but he’s taking control of the money.”

  Maddy looked concerned, perhaps it was because of the stress in her husband’s face, or perhaps it was because her retirement accounts were in that “fund” he kept speaking about.

  “Okay. Why?”

  “He’s got a friend with a new start-up that needs funding.”

  “So, why wouldn’t they just do an IPO?”

  “That would be the best thing to do. But there’s a lot that goes into it. Whereas an investment from a hedge fund comes with a lot less red tape. Not a lot of laws are written to protect the kind of people who invest with us.”

  “Hmm. That makes sense.” Maddy pondered a moment. “Do you think Bert’s being blackmailed?”

  Jace paused. “You know, I never even thought about it.”

  “It just seems weird. Are your funds still doing well?”

  “Best in the firm.”

  “And they’re going to be doing worse when they switch over, right?”

  Jace sighed deeply. “It’s a crapshoot to be honest. The start-up might take off, but for the most part, they don’t. Not unless someone like Citibank is a twenty-percent shareholder.”

  “Do you think that’s why Bert’s doing it?”

  “It’s possible. I’m more frustrated that they’re taking it from me than anything.”

  “Oh, I can imagine.” Maddy paused and thought a moment. “You know he seemed to time it perfectly too.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, you just got back from an expensive wedding and honeymoon. You’re not gonna complain.”

  Lightning came down from the heavens and struck Jace’s brain. Her words made perfect sense. “You’re right …”

  “After that, a new wife, new life. People will tend to take it easy. Play it safe for a minute. And the safe thing to do is to hand over the funds.”

  “You think this was strategic?”

  “I could see it being that way.”

  “Motherfucker.”

  “Now, now, what do you always say about getting angry?”

  Jace rolled his eyes. “It’s wasted energy.” He gazed off, contemplating those words that he had said so many times before in his life. Those words that he usually gave as advice would now have to guide him. How do I channel this into something useful?

  Jace eyes lit up. “You know.” Jace grinned at Maddy, that deviant grin of victory that he did when he was holding a winning hand. “I’ve always talked about starting my own fund.”

  “Yeah …” Maddy smiled.

  “Maybe now’s as good a time as any to do it.”

  “Well, what would you need?”

  “The experience, I have. The people, I feel like I could poach a few good people from Shooter. Dex would come, maybe one or two others. I would honestly just need the office, the money, and that’s it.”

  “How much money would you need?”

  “To maintain our lifestyle?” Jace raised his eyebrows. Thoughts of the Aston Martin that he paid to keep in the garage in one of the world’s most expensive cities came to mind first. The thought that he never actually drove in the city came to mind second.

  “To make it work. We don’t need all of this.” Maddy said raising her hands toward the lavish apartment.

  “Okay, if I waived the rollover fees, which I would have to in this case, and just went off of performance incentives.” Jace looked up and started doing math in his head. “Office space, one year in advance, office supplies, E and O insurance, furniture, expense accounts,” he muttered to himself counting off by tapping his fingers on his glass.

  “Three hundred million would be good. Five or six hundred would be way better.”

  “How much do you think you can get?”

  “Now that’s where it gets complicated. If they think I’m going to jump ship they’ll box me out real quick.”

  “How much do you control right now?”

  “Nearly a billion dollars, but not all of that’s going to come, some of that is Bert’s friends, some are old accounts.”

  “What about Dexter?”

  “He’s the account man for another five hundred million, but some of that overlaps with my funds.”

  “So, about a billion dollars and you need to take half of it.”

  “That’s the long and short of it right there.” Jace
smirked, considering how crazy that statement sounded. All you need is half a billion. It was something your average person would never consider in their wildest dreams. And yet for him, it was beginning to look like a real possibility. “And, I get one shot to take everything I can, and then that’s it.”

  “Well, then suit up, Mr. Clark. You’re on deck.”

  Chapter 19

  “Gentlemen. I want to thank all of you for meeting me here today,” Jace said as he paced around a large table in the exquisite wine cellar at the Huston McCall restaurant. It was a long-standing establishment whose reputation for great food and service was renowned even in the NYC fine dining world. The wine cellar was a few thousand to rent before even the check came, but if you were looking to make an impression, this was the place to do it. And that day, Jace needed to impress. “I know that you’re all busy, so I’m going to make this quick and get to the point.” Jace came to a stop at the head of the table and looked down the table at the twelve men and women gathered before him. They were a motley mix of people, from bankers to trustees.

  “You are here today because you are the trustees to your respective accounts here with Shooter and McManus. Some of you signed on with me personally.” Jace glanced over to Brent. “And others I’ve inherited from my predecessor.” Jace glanced to the other side of the table. “But either way, you have all trusted your accounts with me, your retirements, your livelihood. And that is a trust that is special to me.

  “It’s because of that trust, that I feel I must bring something to your attention, and rather than a phone call, I want to be able to answer any and all of your questions face to face.

  “I have been experiencing some creative differences with the current partners, and I will be leaving the firm.”

  Gene cleared his throat. Jace changed his posture and raised his eyebrows to Gene signifying him to speak.

  Gene, a man in his mid-fifties, was in charge of the pension plan for the elevator service union. His job for the past ten years had simply been going to dinners with various account men at Shooter, so naturally, the potential change made him nervous. ”Creative differences?” Gene asked meekly.