Donna shook her head. "I don't have any angel investor clients. All I have currently is your standard stock market type crowd, mostly in mutual funds. Besides, my managerial portfolio is based around stocks and bonds. I'm currently fourth in the region in terms of highest performing fund managers, did you know that?"
"No, I didn't. Word of that gets out and you're going to be leapfrogging me on the firm's ladder very quickly," I said in true appreciation. Donna was that sort of woman, you couldn't get mad at her, she was just so sweet and kind. Also, she was just so unabashedly smart, you ended up feeling like a good high school player being jealous of Kobe Bryant or something, it just felt stupid. "So who are the top three?"
"Rob Viscount at East Street, Xavier Washington at Hammersmith, and an online guy, goes by the name of The Frost King. He's a freakin' legend amongst the market day traders, guy seriously has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to picking the right stocks to invest or short. He's down a bit from the past two years, and slipped to third, but he's still beating the market by twenty-five percent. God I'd love to meet him."
I smiled to myself and shrugged. "Who knows, maybe you'll get a chance some day. In any case, I'll take this to Marcus Smiley, and you get to keep your share of the credit for your portfolio. What is it now?"
"Thirty-three percent," Donna replied quickly before stopping and blushing. "Sorry, I took a moment to look it up before I called you."
"How about we make it fifty-fifty then?" I said. "You did most of the hard work on this I see, I don't want to take the credit from you."
I could see Donna considering. Was I being generous because I felt bad for her, or was I being truly rewarding because she was deserving of it? Finally, she smiled. "Okay, great. I'll get the papers drawn up. If you don't mind, can I get a chance to meet the Smileys some time? I've seen them on TV a few times, and they're just so cool."
"Sure. I'm sure Marcus and Sophie would love to meet you sometime. When I give them the brief on this I'll pass it along."
"Thanks."
* * *
Tabby
Pressman Contractors was a pretty standard looking industrial contractor's office, the building itself being cinderblock and concrete that could use a fresh coat of paint. Two trucks were parked outside, Ford F450's with the Pressman logo on the side and a back bed filled with tools and all the other things a repairman might need. I parked my little Prius in the spot marked for visitors and made my way inside. "Hello?"
"Just a moment!" a call came from the back. I heard a bit of frustrated grumbling and muffled curses, then the unmistakable sound of a wrench being dropped on a floor. "All right, there we go."
The guy who came out of the back was cute, plain and simple. He was about five ten, maybe a hundred and eighty or so, with brown hair and hazel eyes that went with a strong, square jawline. He was wearing a slightly tight polo shirt with the Pressman logo on it and some work pants, both of which he filled out nicely. He looked like the sort of guy that housewives called over to check out their units just to see him in tight jeans and a sweaty shirt as often as possible. "Hi, how can I help you?"
"Hi, I'm Tabitha Williams, from Taylor & Hardwick's, I'm a financial analyst. Is your boss around?" I asked, tossing my hair over my shoulder. My long auburn red hair is one of my favorite features, and I knew I was flirting. It's just in my nature, and besides, this guy was worth flirting with.
"Dad's out at a work-site right now," the young guy said, "but I'm sure I can help you. Are you here about the request for venture capital we submitted to you guys?"
I was impressed. This guy was smart, and yeah, he broke some of my preconceived notions of what an HVAC guy was supposed to sound like. "I am. I'm the account manager for Marcus Smiley's investments in the city, and I just wanted to see if I could look around some."
"Sure," the guy said, pulling a towel out of the back pocket of his jeans and wiping his hands. "I'm sorry for the greasy hands, but one of our guys just brought this unit in and I wanted to get it out of the shop quickly. We've got a lady over on the South Side without an air conditioner right now. By the way, I'm Scott. Scott Pressman."
"Nice to meet you. Sure you don't mind if I look around?" I asked, looking at the shop. "I don't want to get in your way."
"Not at all. If you want, you can even give me a hand if you want. I don't know why, but you look like the sort of girl who knows the difference between a socket wrench and a Phillips-head screwdriver."