Lincoln
“How do the projected earnings for this quarter look, Lincoln?”
“We are up 1.2% from where we were this time last year, and 4.2% up from just last quarter,” I said.
“That’s a pretty interesting hike. You’ve kept a steady rise of 0.8% over the years, varying quarter to quarter. Are you preparing some sort of hostile takeover?”
Some of the investors laughed, but I merely sat back and watched them try to roll off their nerves. There was a reason they invested in my banking style, and it was because I made them money. I had meetings with my investors every quarter and sent out an investor’s newsletter twice a year—one to end the year and one to begin it. They didn’t come just for the money, however.
They came because of who I was.
My practices were balked at by many, and while I might be praised on Wall Street, the public wanted nothing to do with me. Part of investment banking is all about financial advising. A half-percent of interest here, a monthly fee there. They don’t seem like much, but if you provide top customer service and a great return, it can make you hundreds of thousands of dollars on each client every decade.
However, the other part of financial banking required me to be a heartless shark. Real estate would always be there, and my company had taken to purchasing low-interest loans whose owners were defaulting on payments. The banks couldn’t afford to keep them around, but I could. I could take the loss, hike up the interest percentage in order to encourage their monthly payments, and if they didn’t pay I simply foreclosed. I then took to selling off their assets, I’d sell off their property, and I’d reinvest that money into my company’s portfolio in order to continue scaling upwards.
That was how I was able to invest in the luxury hotel business, and that is exactly why these investors were sitting in front of me.
Because I was willing to take the heat that they were not.
“No, Mr. Grove, I’m not planning a hostile takeover. I am merely experiencing a mediocre return with regard to my new hotel chain. It’s all there in your folder you haven’t opened,” I said.
“Mediocre, huh? Are you expecting this mediocre to get any better?” he asked.
“I said mediocre. What I mean is not quite enough. We are in an expansion mode. Once that is complete, I plan to see a massive 7.2% return for you all, a 10% return for my company, and a steady climb of 2.2% over the course of the next twenty quarters,” I said.
I saw them studying the numbers and I could tell they were impressed. Financial investment banking wasn’t simply a numbers game. It was knowing where to put your money and how to allocate your assets.
I didn’t have $4 billion sitting in a bank somewhere. I had it scattered throughout my portfolio.
I only had $500 million in a bank somewhere.
“Any tips for us at this meeting, Lincoln?” Mr. Groves asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I said. “If you want your customers to continue coming to you with their money, you have to provide them with two things, great returns if they stay, and steep penalties should they pull their money out and go elsewhere.”
I gave them a wry smile and they returned the favor before the meeting was adjourned. I had grabbed my briefcase and started for my office just as my phone rang. Fumbling with my phone for a moment, I finally answered, just as I stepped into my office.
“I hired her,” Drew said.
“Hired who?” I asked.
“A stripper for the party,” he said.
“What time, I’ll make sure to be there,” I said, smiling, knowing full well it wasn’t helpful.
“I hired the new CEO for the hotel expansion project, you idiot,” he said.
“Ah, did that already happen?” I asked.
“Knew you’d forget, just like I said. Anyway, Amelia Wilson is her name, and she is a sassy thing. Smart as a whip, too. She’ll be really good for the company,” he said.
“That’s good news. Glad you found someone,” I said, as I shrugged on my coat.
“You don’t give a flying rat’s ass, do you?” he asked.
“That’s not true. A flying rat would really catch my attention,” I said, grinning.
“You’d enjoy her. She’s got your same bantering sense of humor,” he said.
“I’m not doing my new CEO, Drew,” I said.
“No one here is advocating you sleep with an employee,” he said. “Just trying to draw some similarities between the two of you so we can all work together cohesively.”
“I’m sure you’ve done what’s best for the company. You always do. I’m about to leave the office for the day, however, so just shoot anything to you need me to see in an email,” I said.
“Investor's meeting went that well, huh?” he asked.
“Mr. Groves was present.”
“Ah, the one without a backbone,” he said.
“Anyway, I’ll talk with you later,” I said.
I headed back to The Avalon with my coat around my shoulders and my briefcase tight in my hand. Important files, like the quarterly and yearly reports that housed sensitive information, were not kept at my office. I had a closet that was out-of-sight, and a locked fireproof cabinet I put all this stuff in, and I was ready to put it away. I hated walking out on the open streets with documents like this in my briefcase, and I could feel them burning a hole in the leather with every step I took.
But, as I rounded the front door and greeted George with a nod, I saw a shadowy figure surrounded by a group of chattering people, getting into the elevator.
I furrowed my brow as I tried to figure out who it was, but I didn’t get a chance to see their face. Only that the person was wearing navy blue slacks, which told me it was probably a man. But, I didn’t get anything other than that.
“Hey, George?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr. Collins?”
“Who was that?” I asked.
“I believe that was the billionaire that lives in the penthouse,” he said.
“You mean, you didn’t know who just came through?” I asked.
That was odd. George knew everyone in this building by name. He simply called us by our last name for formality’s sake, but he knew everyone well.
He took pride in that as the doorman for The Avalon.
“No, I don’t. I don’t believe anyone knows who he is,” George said.
“So, it is a man,” I said.
“Honestly? I hear it’s a woman.”
“But, the person that just went into the elevator had navy blue slacks on,” I said.
“The entourage that surrounded the person is always there. I hear they go out and find the woman her next meal for the night before she casts them out. He’ll do his walk of shame in the morning before I get here.”
“I heard one rumor circulating, but I didn’t even consider it because I didn’t think anyone actually lived in the penthouse,” I said.
“What did you hear?” he asked.
“I heard there are parties thrown up there every year. Parties with libations and rooms sectioned off for salacious activities. I figured the top level of this place was a party room to be rented out, to be honest. Do you really think it’s possible someone lives up there?” I asked.
“All I know for certain is that all these levels are occupied, including that one, according to the tenant list.”
“Why all the secrecy? Why would you be a billionaire with all this money, then live a life that is so private?” I asked.
“Maybe the owner has something to hide,” George said.
“Or something to lose,” I said.
“All I know is that no one is allowed up there without strict permission from the tenant, and a special key that’s inserted into a special slot in the elevator.”
“Sounds fancy,” I said, smirking.
“Says the billionaire who has his own infinity pool on the 59th floor,” he said, grinning.
“And speaking of, I believe I’m going to go for a swim,” I said.
“You have a good afternoon, Mr. Collins,” he said.
But, when I stepped into the elevator to head up to my floor, I couldn’t help but reach out and finger the golden slot right there at the bottom of all the level buttons.
Why would someone with so much money need such privacy in their life?