“We’ll order sushi,” I suggest.
“Yeah, and eat with our hands. That’s the sort of rich we are.”
“Yeah, let’s go crazy and maybe even eat in a restaurant,” I say while thanking a higher power for reminding me that my husband is funny, and for this unexpected diversion from my sinful ways. I hang up.
CHAPTER 16
Takeover
MY JOB at this conference, besides swooning in a wet bathrobe and apparently bunking with clients, is to moderate one of the panels. This means I came up with the topic and secured the guest speakers whom I will interview, Katie Couric–style, in front of the attendees. King is now moderating the one before mine and he’s chosen a topic getting traction in the press lately, “Do Hedge Fund Managers Deserve Their Current Level of Compensation?”
While we are paid handsomely, the hedge funders make us look like people on a breadline and many of those hedge fund guys are here. King is digging deep and lobbing milquetoasty questions to the panel to justify their nutty compensation. He does this for two reasons: First, Feagin Dixon gets to appear to federal regulators like we too have a scrutinizing eye on overpayment in the industry. We all do everything in our power to not be investigated and this panel topic makes us look critical of the money machine. The second reason is to appease these hedge funders themselves, whose wealth trickles to us in the form of deal and trading fees. If they stop making crazy money, then so will we. In the end, King will summarize for the audience why these guys are worth every penny and they can feel good about themselves and about us.
From my seat I watch a mathematical geek sitting in the front row, James Simon. He’s a guy who bases his trades on numerical fluctuations in his portfolio and hedges his bets. Last year he took home $1.7 billion, a number that seems inconceivable, even in Monopoly money terms. Did James Simon really earn $1.7 billion? Did he actually make something to do that? Since the union pension funds he manages are probably getting a better return on their money than if it were, say, in the bank, does that justify overpaying a few people? I know a free economy will support whatever the market will bear, but since all these funds have the same rates and conditions, aren’t they acting like a monopoly? Do the institutions that have to trust them have any ability to pay lower fees if they all charge the same or are they essentially forced to pay these fees? Has Bruce become like a voice inside my head with this stuff? My own panel is about to start so I stop ruminating and get my head in the game.
All anyone really wants to discuss here is the volatile mortgage-backed securities market, but my topic is something far fresher, something I think is the next place to make some home-run investments in and I’m determined to grab the attention of the room. I’ve entitled it “What’s a Fair Price to Pay for a Library of Freely Submitted Content?” In this world where everyone shares their videos, movies, songs, blogs, and ideas, how do we value the company that everyone posts them to? That’s my big idea, something I came up with when I was trying to value CeeV-TV.
My three panelists and I sit onstage, behind a table with polyester drapes Velcroed into place. I sweep my eyes across the room and can tell that Henry isn’t here, because even in a sea of white men wearing polos and khakis, Henry stands out. I thought he’d come, especially since he has a truckload of CeeV-TV, and I check my gut and push away the thought that maybe Henry still can’t stand to see me succeed.
Last night proved we could be great business associates focused on our mutual success and we’re into a new chapter in our relationship that does not include kissing.
The news about CeeV-TV will make my panel discussion the most timely one of the day. Many of the hedge fund investors here either own property like CeeV-TV, or are short (meaning they bet the price will fall) the public stocks of similar companies. But when I look at the audience, I see a sea of distraction. The questions I have readied for the panelists seem vanilla and the audience catatonic. While my first guest drones about his investing methodology, my mind drifts to tomorrow, when I have that Glass Ceiling Club lunch to discuss Naked Girl and when I return to my family. Will it be hard to face Bruce? Should I tell Bruce? Would I tell him just to feel less guilty or to make sure I never do it again?