Opening Belle

“Uhh, that’s right.” I fake smile.

The Grand Papi of Cheetah’s $35 billion hedge fund never, ever attends conferences like this one. I didn’t know he was here and this throws me because Simon will be livid to not be having dinner with him, and B. Gruss II, our chairman, will want to meet him. How did I not know this? Why didn’t Henry tell me?

I recover a little. “How are you, Tim?”

“Great, nice to see you. Sorry to show up on you like this, I wanted to hear your panel this morning so I just flew down for the day.”

“No problem. Actually it’s great to see you here.”

And I mean this. He came because of my panel—did he really just say that?

“I heard the CeeV-TV news yesterday and saw how perfect and timely your panel was. I wasn’t disappointed.”

“And so you stayed for this evening?”

Tim wrinkles his brow and tugs at his French cuffs, a very fancy look for this party.

“Well, I’m one of those types that shows up for cocktails and skips the dinner, if you know what I mean. Been in this business a long time,” he says thoughtfully. “But sometimes it’s good to get out of the office and shake a few hands. Sitting in the ivory tower too long gives you hemorrhoids.”

“I thought that’s why you hired Henry—for the hand shaking part, I mean.”

“Yesss,” he says carefully. “Finally admitted you know each other from college.”

“He told you?”

“Honey, I’m a researcher. Takes no detective to feel the energy at our lunch table that day. Wasn’t sure what it was till I asked him.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I think we were both shocked and didn’t want to start reminiscing in front of you. I mean, we dated a little.”

“Yes, well, Henry is off to a pretty good start,” he mutters. “Have you seen him tonight?”

“I think he said he was going home early because, you know, he misses his three kids,” I say ironically.

“Oh.” Tim looks confused. “Well, really, Ms. McElroy, I want you to know that I do remember my manners. The reason I’m here tonight is to personally thank you for probably the two best ideas in our portfolio, this CeeV and EBS. If this thing works out, you’ll have made our year. Let me know when you want to come work for me!” He laughs.

“Oh, I’m pretty happy where I am now,” I lie. “Anyway, I thought you would’ve sold your position by now.”

“Henry wanted to but I said to hold on to that stock ’cause this here is a big idea. You know that time we had lunch at the Four Seasons, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. Love when the ladies prove me wrong. Anyway, keep Cheetah up to speed with any information you have on those two stocks, do you hear?”

“I hear,” I say, standing tall.

“Doing anything in mortgages?” he asks.

I’m a little surprised that Cheetah is yet another hedge fund on the mortgage bandwagon. “I don’t totally understand those MBS, CDO, acronym-laden things, so I’m staying with the basics for now. Henry must be a big help there. Isn’t that what he was doing at Goldman?”

Tim smiles. “That’s why people trust you, Isabelle. Everyone else would just say yes and pretend they knew something just to get my business. I want you to know that I like your honesty. I also want you to know that Henry may be my hand shaker, but he had no business taking your moment from you in that room this morning.”

I know exactly what he means but act like I don’t. “What do you mean by that?”

“You put that panel together, you were letting the story unfold naturally, letting your clients get to understanding this idea in a macro way. You were about to ask the question, the one that makes a yawn of a conference into a memorable one, the one that lets people remember it was your idea in the first place. Instead Henry beat you to the punch. Damn kid ended that panel early. It was not his place to do that.”

“I’m used to men stealing my thunder,” I say.

“Well it damn well cheeses me.”

“Go easy on Henry,” I say. “And he’ll make you lots of money.”

“There you go being honest again.” We both laugh.

“You know that CeeV investment was the first time I took such a gamble with Henry. I mean, he’s a new kid who seemed to be pushing it because you were pushing it. He keeps telling me you’ve got one sharp brain and that you’re the one to watch. So far it looks like that boy knows what he’s talking about. I’ll be damned”—he gazes past my shoulder thoughtfully—“how’d you come up with that idea?”

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