The Willingness to Burn

by J. P. London

  Jace nodded at the balding man at the other end of the table.

  “Now, you gentlemen and ladies have a onetime opportunity to get in on the ground floor at the new firm and enjoy higher returns than ever before.

  “You all have bared witness to the type of return that you can expect with me at the wheel. As an average, we have been paying you somewhere around twenty percent consistently over the past few years.” Jace paused, letting that number sink in. That was well over the S&P five hundred, and every man and woman in that room knew it. “And what I am offering to you today is the chance to up that to thirty percent.” Eyes shot open across the room as visions of sports cars and early retirement flashed in their minds.

  “There will be no fees to move over to the new company, and we will be up and running shortly. Instead of being capped at twenty percent, you ladies and gentlemen will be getting thirty percent. “

  “Now, how can I afford that? How can I make that promise?”

  “Here is the chart for the earnings of the last three years.”

  Jace clicked a remote, and the LED screen lit up revealing a chart with a level graph that jumped.

  “As you can see, under my rule we have been averaging 50% or more on your investments over the last three years. Now, why settle for twenty percent when you can get thirty?”

  “Why not forty?” a man in a three-piece, navy-blue and grey suit spoke.

  “Because, pigs get slaughtered, Steve,”. Jace responded quickly. “And thank you, Steve, for bringing me to my next point. You have all seen my work, now that you have no doubt that I can provide you with these numbers, I have a question for you all.” Jace picked up a glass of water and took a sip as he surveyed the room.

  “How well will your money do without me at the firm?”

  Jace turned to the LED screen and clicked another button on the remote—another chart appeared.

  “This is Shooter’s average returns for all of their funds excluding mine.”

  “8%?” Brent called out, followed by a chuckle.

  “Eight percent. Just barely over the S&P. You might as well just keep it under your mattress.

  “As I’m sure you can imagine, as soon as word gets out that I’m leaving, I will quickly be ushered to the door. And word will get out, I imagine later today. The second I leave this meeting. So in front of you all are contracts for the recently formed, Clark Capital Group.” Jace turned the LED screen off.

  “Fortune rewards the bold. So for those of you who come with me today. You will receive these benefits. For those of you who do not.” Jace paused. “You shall receive the standard which is what you are already getting” Jace smirked. “Well, at least for now.

  “Now, are there any questions?”

  “Why just the standard?” Ken asked.

  “Because if you choose to stick with Shooter and McManus, your return will fall. My creative differences lay in their need to put the money that you’ve entrusted in me, into funds I don’t believe in.” Jace paced around the table. “Bert has important friends, sure, and I’m sure that they mean well, but when he directs all of your money into a company that may or may not ever make it out of initial review, I’m scared.”

  Jace gazed down at the men and women seated at the long table.

  “And if I’m scared, then you should be terrified. Because I only lose the buying power and commission, but you, you lose everything.” He let his words drag out to stress his point. “Your retirement plans, your employees trust, everything. Bert and his irrational favoritism could very well put you out of business, and I don’t want that, neither do you. So, you can either win big today, or cap the bleeding tomorrow. It’s entirely up to you.” Jace glared down at Ken.

  “Jace, if I may,” Brent said.

  “Certainly,” Jace replied.

  “I’ve been with you for three years, I’ve had you directing our future for three years. And in those three years, I’ve talked to people who have lost a lot of money. People whose accounts didn’t go according to plan. People whose,” Brent paused for dramatic effect, “futures were ruined. I think of you as my ace in the hole.

  “We have a saying ,‘Once is chance, twice is coincidence. Three times, well, three times is talent.’ So, Jace, I’ve been with you for the last few years, and I’ll be with you for the next few as well.” Brent raised his glass.

  “Thank you.”

  “Gentlemen, I hope the rest of you feel the same. And although I don’t want to rush you, circumstance dictates that I must. The time to make a decision is now.”

  Chapter 20

  “Well, Mrs. Clark, it appears a congratulations are in order.”

  Maddy’s eyes opened wide and she looked at the white-coated woman in-between her legs with an expression usually reserved for horror movies. “What? Why?”

  The doctor laughed. “You’re pregnant.”

  Maddy didn’t move.

  “That is why you came in today, right?” The doctor turned and looked at her chart. Quickly, she realized that it was a scheduled annual visit. And an annual visit at that office had to be scheduled months in advance. Far more advanced than the pregnancy was.

  “I’m sorry. Perhaps I spoke too soon,” the doctor said, backpedaling.

  “About what?” Maddy asked with a sense of urgency.

  “The congratulations. I take it this was not planned.”

  Maddy just stared out and responded reluctantly. “No … No, it wasn’t.”

  The doctor continued to speak to her, but it was as though the deafening sound of her new development had completely blocked the doctor out as those things tended to do. Everything seemed distanced, muted, far away. The only thing that seemed close to her then were the thoughts in her own mind and that of her developing child.

  Her doctor was saying something about options when she zoned out completely. And in that moment her mind danced through possibilities. She was pressured by the changes her lifestyle was going to go through. No more spontaneous traveling, no more wine with dinner, no more sushi. Oh, God! No more coffee! But then her thoughts began to change pace and she began to consider the joy that a baby would bring to their lives.

  She felt a smile creep across her face. A face that prior to the smile must have looked horrified because her doctor placed her hands on Maddy’s knees and stared at her with concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  Maddy’s smile grew, and an odd sense of knowing calm resonated throughout her body.

  “Yeah. I think I’m going to be just fine.”

  The doctor smiled back at her. “Good.”

  The ride home was void of conversation. The good thing about New York City cab drivers was that they didn’t want to talk to you. You were just a means to an end to them and none of them wanted to get to know you. And that was exactly what Maddy wanted. To sit still and reflect while some man screamed in a language she didn’t understand and didn’t care about.

  When she walked in the door of their sprawling apartment, Jace was already home. She could hear him dicing something in the kitchen preparing dinner.

  “That you, babe?” he called out

  “Yeah,” Maddy responded.

  She looked out onto the sleek black and white layout of the apartment and thought, There is going to be a whole lot of gray in here soon.

  She dropped her bag on the couch and continued through to the kitchen. Jace was standing on the other side of the center island. He was dicing up onions while a pink, uncooked salmon laid in a bath of lemon juice and white wine. The wine bottle, and a half full glass, were over to the side of the salmon next to the asparagus. That was the image that every woman with her type of news wanted to come home to—her husband with a knife.

  Jace looked up from his chopping.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, barely taking his eyes off his fingers.

  Maddy considered waiting until after dinner to tell him. But she knew right away that wasn’t going to work. They had always shared e
verything, and now on that day with the biggest news of their lives, she knew that there was no way she would be able to keep this secret longer than a few seconds. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. It wasn’t fear, it was something else. She thought about what a solider must think of before he presses the launch button on a missile. That was how she felt. It was something that once pressed could never be undone.

  After a few moments of silence, Jace stopped chopping and looked up at her puzzled. Her gaze was out, up toward the ceiling, trying not to look directly at him. “All right, I don’t know that face,” he paused and she lowered her eyes to meet his. “That’s not angry, that’s not frustrated. What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okaaay …” he said seemingly alarmed. Jace placed the knife on the cutting board and rounded the center island taking a seat in front of her.

  The word pressure came to her mind. Maddy could feel it weighing down her forehead. Heat and pressure. Sweat would soon follow. Her breathing took on an increased in out and she unconsciously began breathing through her mouth.

  Jace stood up and put his arms around her waist. “Oh my God, what is it?” He ushered her to the chair at the island and she sat down. Then, before she could respond, he asked another question, “Do you want a glass of wine or something?”

  That question was easy.

  “No, I can’t.”

  Jace paused for a moment and a puzzled look grew across his face. “You can’t …” That was different then no, that wasn’t I don’t want one, that was I can’t. His eyes shot open. “Wait … you can’t? Like can’t can’t? Why can’t you?“ The gears began to turn in his head. “What did you do today? You went to the …” Jace looked up, thinking to himself. “Holy shit! Are you pregnant?”

  Maddy nodded, tears coming down her face. Jace wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, hugging her tight. “Baby, that’s amazing!” he said, kissing the side of her face.

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, of course. We’ve always talked about this.” He put her down and the pair sat facing each other on the island stools.

  “Yeah, but so soon?”

  “Today, tomorrow, next year, what’s the difference?”

  A wave of relief washed over her. Jace had always been a good person, but something about a baby put her in an uneasy spot. It was the severity of the situation. If anything could pry two people apart, it was a baby. It was the “I’m walking out” moment. The only thing that could make her leave the man that she had grown so close to over the past few years. The only stake that could puncture her heart. And instead of walking out, she was sharing her joy with him.

  “Is it a boy?”

  She laughed and caught her breath hard. “I’m not that pregnant.”

  “Yeah, but can you tell?”

  “Well, the first thought I had when she told me was of a little blonde boy. Playing with a truck.”

  “Yes!” Jace cried out and stood up raising his hand up to her for a high-five.

  She laughed at his ridiculous response then conceded to slapping his hand. He pulled her up out of her seat and kissed her, then, glancing down at the pink salmon soaking in lemon juice, he said, “Oh, shit. Leave it to me to make a pregnant woman fish soaked in wine.”

  “Well, timing always was your thing.”

  Chapter 21

  “What’s new and exciting?” Jace asked as he walked into Dexter’s office. Dexter’s office was a large room with floor to ceiling windows on the 47th floor—a perk to coming with Jace when he made the jump from Shooter and McManus. Dexter was behind his desk wrapping up a phone call and extended a polite, “One minute” finger. Jace nodded and took a seat on his supple leather couch.

  “Great, so we’ll see you on Friday then,” Dexter said into the phone. Dexter laughed. “I bet,” he said and hung up the phone.

  “New and exciting? How much time ya got?” Dexter beamed proudly.

  Jace smirked. “ I got all day.”

  Dexter stood up and patted his tie down then rounded the desk and took a seat opposite of Jace. Jace was the boss, but he was not the boss when they were the only two people in the room. When it was just the two of them, they stood on equal ground. Two friends who had shed the bonds of their previous employment to build something themselves. Two partners with mutual interest, symbiotic beings. And it was a friendly informal meeting, as most of them were.

  “All right, for starters, we got forty million coming in on Friday. You remember that guy who bought out all of those patents?”

  “Yeah, Jerry, right?

  “Yeah, that’s him. He said if we can really give him 20%, he’ll have another forty for us next year.”

  “Patent business is good I guess.”

  “The way he describes it, there’s next to no overhead. He doesn’t do production or manufacturing, anything like that, he just licenses them out and collects the checks.”

  Jace leaned his head back. ”Really? Dex, I think were in the wrong business.”

  Dexter chuckled. “Yeah, right?” So, anyway, he’s Friday. Next, two of our FNG’s are fucking killing it with cold calling.”

  “Nice.”

  “We’re locking down a few new small accounts every day.”

  “That’s good, the small ones will take us to the bigger ones.”

  “That’s what I told them, and they’re all accredited, so they have the money. Just have to show them what we can do.” Jace nodded. “We tweaked the script a bit at the end of last week and raised the minimum to ten thousand so were not getting as many, but I think they’re going to end up being better accounts.”

  Jace nodded.

  “Less buyer’s remorse, less nit picking,” Dexter continued.

  “It’s the cheap ones that cause the most problems,” Jace pointed out.

  “God, did I learn that one.”

  Jace smirked.

  “So what’s up on your end?”

  Jace leaned forward in his seat. “Okay, so we finally cashed out on the BXE merger.”

  “Nice.”

  “And we fucking killed it. I was anticipating an 80% annualized return and we’re somewhere north of 150%”

  “Fuck yeah!”

  “Yeah, so that covers us for the rest of the year on everything we have.”

  “Dude, what month is it?”

  “Exactly, so we gotta press hard, the rest is all profit.”

  “I just bought about a billion dollars of unsecured debt. For dirt cheap. We’re going to see how this one pans out.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Thirty million buy in, three hundred million sell off.”

  “Now that I really like.”

  “Exactly, so on that note and my hard press note, I’m taking the rest of the week off, and the first few days of next week.”

  Dexter laughed. “It’s good to be the boss.”

  “Can’t argue that one. And you’re overdue for some time off too. Seriously, you’ll feel better and work better after taking a break.”

  Dexter nodded. He was too wrapped up in things to take a break then, but it was nice knowing that the “boss” would support that, and soon enough insist.

  “Going somewhere nice, I hope?” Dexter asked, pushing the focus back on Jace’s trip.

  “Going to check out the final renovations for the house in Costa Rica.”

  “I gotta get down there sometime.”

  “Yeah, you do; Heather will fucking love it too. If everything goes well you guys should come down for the week. It’s fucking big enough, man. We don’t even have to see each other if we don’t want to.”

  Dexter laughed. “All right, let’s see how next week pans out.”

  “Pick your rock star and put him on point for whatever you have. If he fucks up, he fucks up.”

  “Ehh, it’s not that.”

  Jace looked puzzled. “How are things going with the wife?”

  “Good man, really
good.” Dexter looked off out the window, his mind wandering a bit.

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “Ehh, sometimes I just miss the way things used to be, you know. Like when did we get old, when did the party stop?”

  “When did the party stop? How much fucking money did you make this year?”

  “Yeah, but you know what I mean, I miss the days of out drinking all night, models in hotel suites, that kinda thing.”

  “Yeah, I know. Believe me, dude, I was more into it than you were for a bit.”

  Dexter smirked. “Yeah, you were.”

  “Look, man. That shit will kill you in the long-term. Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun for a time, but after a while it’s just poison. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I got out when I did.”

  “Yeah,” Dexter said, unconvinced.

  “Seriously. That’s why we do so well. If you were coked up all the time, you wouldn’t be able to run the boiler room or run all these accounts.”

  “I beg to differ.” Dexter grinned.

  “Not for long, at least.”

  Dexter admittedly shrugged.

  “Look, man, you know why Bert did so well?”

  “Because he was old?”

  “Exactly, he had his time in the limelight and stepped out. If you don’t, you end up like Mark.”

  Dexter gave Jace the, “Oh God” face “Yeah, shit, you hear from him lately?”

  “Last I heard he was out of rehab.”

  “I can’t believe he blew through all of that money,” Dexter said, shaking his head.

  “Believe it, man. Twenty grand a night adds up really fucking fast.”

  “No shit.”

  “Add to that a coke habit and three failed marriages. It just spells disaster. Let him be the example of what happens when you stay in the club scene for too long and don’t get out when you get married. I know in hindsight it looks pretty, but in reality, you would look like Mark.”

  “Yeah, I guess after a while your body just can’t handle it.”