by Marie Astor
***
At the sight of his brother entering the restaurant, Jon Bostoff finished the rest of his scotch. Normally, he never drank during the work day, but today he had a good excuse. The first tranche of orders for the Impala Group had come in this week, generating a nearly seven-figure commission in just one day. The prospect of the money that was to come made Jon giddy with anticipation. Finally, he was getting to the station in life he had been destined to occupy. Now, all he had to do was make sure that his buffoon of a brother did not mess things up by poking his nose where it did not belong, and to do that, Jon would have to make Paul feel like he was part of the game. He needed to come up with a project to keep his brother busy and make him feel useful.
“Paul.” Jon willed his lips into a smile. Deciding that a handshake would be too formal and an embrace too filial, he patted his brother heartily on the shoulder.
“Sorry I’m late.” Paul stiffened. “I was just finishing up some reports and lost track of time.”
“No worries.” Jon smiled. “I think our table is ready.”
As the pretty hostess led them to Jon’s usual booth, Jon eyed her perky behind undulating pleasantly on her long, slim legs. Jon Bostoff liked pretty women just as much as he liked money, and he strove to possess top tier in both categories. He had managed to do so in the first category: to his mind, all women paled in comparison next to his wife, and he was finally well on his way to realizing his ambition on the business front of things.
Jon took a seat. “Would you like a drink?” he offered Paul.
Paul lifted his eyes from the menu. “I don’t usually drink at work.”
“Neither do I,” Jon retorted, “but this week calls for a celebration.” Without waiting for Paul’s response, Jon ordered two gin martinis.
Paul took a sip of his water. “Speaking of which, I noticed an increase in the commission numbers this week.”
The sneaky bugger is not as dumb as he looks, Jon thought, conscious of keeping a hearty grin all the while. “That’s exactly it, brother, we’re finally breaking into the big leagues.”
“By taking orders from hedge funds with questionable reputations?”
Somebody is getting feisty, Jon thought, barely resisting the urge to reach across the table and smack his brother for old times’ sake. Unfortunately, they were no longer kids. The smacking around would have to be confined to verbal parries. “What do you mean by questionable reputations?”
“Do you want me to make a list? Emperial for one, and just this week, some entity called Impala Group of which I’ve never heard before.”
Jon gulped. He had not expected such business dexterity from his younger brother. Clearly, the louse could be quite tenacious when he wanted to. “Would you call a hedge fund paying its investors eight percent per year questionable?”
“If the return is generated illegally, yes.” Paul fixed his eyes on Jon. “Dad always stood away from the hedge fund business. You are completely ignoring his wishes.”
“Dad has been out of touch with the business reality for some time,” Jon snapped. “Have you looked at the company finances recently? The only way to make any money these days is through volume. Going after hedge funds is the way to do that. And as far as Emperial goes, nothing has been hung on them yet, and as long as that’s the case, they are a good client to me.”
“Well, I suppose you have a point. Nothing has been proven against them,” Paul trailed off.
Mercifully, the waitress arrived with their drinks.
Jon took a long swig of his martini and placed his order: cheeseburger with American cheese and French fries. He had to take another swallow of his drink when he heard Paul’s order: a salad for Christ’s sake! What a pansy his brother was.
“Lisa and I are trying a new diet,” Paul added almost apologetically. “It’s based on the fact that meats and poultry are highly acidic foods and vegetables are alkaline. Consuming alkaline foods boosts your metabolism and flushes out the toxins.”
Jon nodded. “I applaud your self-control, brother, but I’m too much of a carnivore to give up meat. I figure hitting the gym every morning ought to do it.”
“It’s more of a solidarity gesture for Lisa on my part, really.”
How lame, Jon thought, but nodded approvingly. “I like that; that’s the key to a strong marriage. Getting back to our conversation... I understand your concerns, Paul, but even the U.S. justice system says that one is innocent until proven guilty. And I might add that these days you’d be hard-pressed to find a financial institution that did not have a run-in with a regulator at some point of its existence.”
“I suppose so.” Paul lowered his eyes, taking a drink. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jon. I just don’t want Dad’s legacy to be tarnished, that’s all. Heck, truth be told, I went into the business because Dad wanted me to: he’s got this idea that we should be working together, and I can clearly see that you don’t want that.”
Damn straight, I don’t, Jon thought, but out loud he purred, “That’s not true, brother. I want us to be a team, but you have to trust me. I know you’re anxious to contribute to the business, and you have already done a great deal, but you have to give it time to acquire an understanding of the company before jumping to conclusions. Let me be your mentor. I promise I will guide you through this maze called finance, and then, we can really be a team.”
Paul nodded. “I’d like that. To be honest, I was quite happy to be on the marketing side of things, but Dad wanted me to be involved in the business more.”
“And who said that marketing is not important?”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course, I do!” Jon almost burst from the effort of containing his smirk. “It’s one of the most important functions in the company. It presents our face to the outside world.”
“I had no idea you thought so.”
“I’m sorry if I was unclear about it. In fact, that’s one of the topics I wanted to talk to you about today. Now that Bostoff Securities is going to become a more prominent financial player, we need to up our publicity profile. I was thinking something along the lines of a charity event. What are your thoughts?”
“We could organize a charity sports tournament.”
“A splendid idea! That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Paul. We are a team. What kind of tournament?”
“It could be golf or tennis.”
“Tennis – I like that – more original than golf. How long do you think it would take to put one together? How does two weeks’ time sound?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Jon. That’s pushing it real tight. We might not get anyone from outside to participate on two weeks’ notice.”
“Who says we need to get anyone from the outside? We can make it an employee only function. We’ll have several rounds, with the firm making a donation to the charity choice of the final winning employee. Can you get it started?”
“Well, sure, Jon. I’ll get right on it.”
“Great, I’m looking forward to it, Paul. And don’t forget about your engagement party tonight.” Jon wiped the grease off his mouth. The burger had been superb.
Chapter 19