He took a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s true.”
And he was living it. Or at least he used to...
The meetings to which he was mysteriously not invited, the silence that often befell a room whenever he walked in, and the opportunities for new client business that lately seemed to go to someone else or he never even heard about in the first place.
He was the wealthiest senior investment banker on staff. In fact, he made more money in his yearly bonuses than in his regular salary. But, lately, it seemed as if everyone was treating him like some runny-nosed intern.
Isaac kept thinking the cold-shoulder treatment from Sterling and the other staff was because he was being groomed for the responsibilities of becoming an executive partner, where there was less day-to-day trading and managing clients and more focus on higher-level investment strategy for the firm overall.
There was something wrong going on at Paxton, something he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t ready to believe that the something wrong could be him.
“So are you saying it’s okay to look the other way?” Autumn pressed. Her brown eyes seemed as intense as the flames warming the room.
“Sometimes,” he cautioned. Autumn’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly and she seemed disappointed with his answer. “But only until one is sure that pursuing it means a net gain for both parties,” he added, not wanting to upset her.
Autumn rolled her eyes and speared a piece of romaine. “You sound like one of my old bosses. Every question I asked the guy, the answer he would give me would sound like it came out of a textbook for Economics 101.”
Isaac laughed, almost spitting out the water he was in the middle of drinking.
“I’m that bad, huh?”
Autumn munched on her salad and nodded.
“In that case, maybe I should quit investment banking and become a professor.”
She swallowed and pointed her fork at him. “Maybe you should,” she advised, her tone serious. “But not before you tell me why you invited me to lunch.”
Autumn pursed her lips into a pouty smile that nearly teased him to distraction, and he realized that he felt so comfortable with her that he’d nearly forgotten the reason he’d invited her to the restaurant in the first place.
“Ah yes,” he said, as the waiter arrived with two steaming bowls of soup. “We have an assignment.”
“What do you mean by ‘we’?” Autumn asked. “I thought you said that the analysts and investment and trading guys never worked together. Something about conflict of interest?”
Isaac nodded. “We usually don’t. But this assignment came direct from Sterling, so I don’t ask questions. He must have his reasons for wanting to do it this way.”
She blew on her spoon and swallowed some soup. “Mmm...this is delicious. Okay, so what do we need to do?”
Isaac ate a few spoonfuls of soup and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Have you ever heard of Eleanor Witterman?”
“Sure. She’s a New York City legend. The wealthy socialite who never married. She’s had plenty of suitors, or so they say. How old is she now?”
Isaac thought a moment. “Late fifties, early sixties maybe? She’s around the same age as Sterling. But from the photos I’ve seen, she doesn’t look it at all.”
Autumn twisted her lips to the side. “She must have her plastic surgeon on speed dial,” she remarked. “What about her?”
He smiled and took a sip of water before continuing.
“Sterling has been trying to get her to become a client for years, but she’s never come on board. Seems lately she’s had a change of heart. Recently she sold a large portion of her art collection for just over ten million dollars, and she came to Paxton seeking counsel on how to invest it.”
Autumn’s eyes widened. “That’s great. Any reason why she sold all that art?”
Isaac shrugged and leaned back in his chair.
“Who cares?” he said with a smile. “We’ve got ten million dollars to play with!”
“Where do I fit in this game of real-life monopoly?”
“You and I are going to put together an investment package that Eleanor won’t be able to resist.”
“That sounds more up your alley than mine. I’m an analyst, remember? I’m the one who double-checks all the calculations making sure one plus two doesn’t equal four.”
“Right, but to get this deal, we’re going to need your forecasting and predictive analysis skills, as well.”
“You mean you want me to be a fortune teller?” Autumn replied drily. She grabbed her purse and pretended to be searching for something. “Nope, no crystal ball in here.”
“Come on, Autumn. You know everyone on Wall Street relies on a little wizardry now and then.”
“Which is why we’ve had a financial meltdown in the United States and around the world,” she retorted, folding her arms.
Isaac’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected any push back, especially from a new employee. Maybe he’d been wrong about Autumn. Sterling was obviously losing his Midas touch in terms of hiring suitable Paxtonites.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
He tossed his napkin on the table and gave her a pointed stare. “You work in this industry. You know the way things are. Millions of stocks are traded every day by computer algorithms, not people. It’s the new world order.”
Autumn held up her hands. “I realize that, okay? All I’m saying is that we all should take some responsibility for what goes on, and what goes wrong, in our industry.”
Isaac felt the tips of his ears get hot, and this time he wasn’t happy. This lunch meeting was not turning out the way he expected. Autumn was looking like she would be difficult to work with, and yet, he had no choice.
He leaned forward and said in a hard voice, “The only responsibility I care about right now is the one I have to Paxton. And as a new member of our team, I would have thought you’d have a better attitude about this assignment.”
Autumn’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Isaac,” she said, frowning. “Sometimes I just get caught up in all the negativity that surrounds our industry that I lose sight of all the good, and I know Paxton is one of the good guys.”
She swiped at her left eye with one finger and Isaac wasn’t sure if she was removing a tear or a speck of dust. No way could he have a woman crying because of him.
That would not be a very good day.
He paid for the meal in cash and they retrieved their coats. He waited until they were outside until he spoke again. The mood between them, which had been friendly an hour ago, was as icy as the air.
“Look, Autumn, let me give you the lowdown on Eleanor,” he said, softening his voice. “She’s very old-fashioned. She doesn’t want her money being handled by computers, but by real people. Any investments we advise are going to be backed up by real numbers, forecasted to predict the dividends she could expect to receive in x number of years.”
Autumn nodded, looking contrite, and for a moment he felt guilty for getting so angry at her.
She tilted her chin, and he noticed she had a tiny mole on her jawline. “When do we get started?”
“Immediately. The presentation is in two weeks. I want you to begin looking into possibilities this afternoon. I have a full day of meetings tomorrow, so if you’re available, I’d like to have an early dinner so we can review your initial recommendations.”
Autumn buttoned up her coat. “There are hundreds of industries or companies she could possibly invest in. Any idea where to start?”
Isaac thought a moment. “How about with her best friends?”
Autumn gave him a quizzical smile. “And who might they be?”
“Diamonds.”
She burst out in a deep, knowing laugh, which was definitely better than almost ma
king her cry.
He wiggled his fingers at her. “Now let’s bust open these hand warmers and get back to the office. We both have a lot of work to do.”
As they walked back, hands stuffed deep in their coat pockets against the harsh January winds, Isaac knew the hardest part of the days and nights ahead would be trying to stop Autumn from getting under his skin, or into his heart.
Chapter 4
When they got back to Paxton, Autumn stopped at the restroom to freshen up. Just as she suspected, the tears she’d nearly unloaded on Isaac had taken a toll on her mascara. Of course, they weren’t real. She’d only pretended that she was going to cry.
Deep down she hated to use such a manipulative trick, but it was the only way she knew how to get a sense of his character.
She wet a paper towel and dabbed at her eyelashes. When she was finished, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Thank goodness, Isaac had passed her test.
He cared.
She was impressed with how well he treated the street vendor and their waiter at the restaurant. He didn’t have to give either man any extra change or tips, but he did.
And he didn’t have to care whether her hands were cold, either. Her heart swelled remembering how he’d bought her the hand warmers. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so sweet for her, just to save her from discomfort.
And she was relieved because maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t like all the other greedy, stingy, emotionally dead men she’d met—and busted—while working undercover.
In her experience, the maxim “the bigger the bank account, the larger the ego” was a reality. There was something about making a ton of money that made some men turn into arrogant egomaniacs who thought they were above the law.
It was true that Isaac didn’t seem to be too concerned about how Wall Street sometimes negatively affected Main Streets all around the world. He was likely worried about his job, and rightly so; otherwise, Sterling wouldn’t have hired her to investigate him.
If he didn’t have the activist mentality that she did, perhaps it was because he truly believed he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Autumn hoped that’s what she would discover, too. All she had to do was remember to avoid letting her emotions get in the way of her case.
When she got back to her office, Isaac’s door was open, but he wasn’t there. Presumably, he was already well into his afternoon meetings.
She hung up her coat, walked to the desk and noticed a light blinking on her phone.
Oh joy, she thought, her first voice mail.
Twenty minutes later, she’d figured out how to retrieve the message. It was Sterling calling for an update. The man certainly didn’t waste any time, she mused while locking her purse in her desk. Although she wasn’t particularly afraid it would get stolen, she wasn’t stupid.
Petty crimes in the workplace were a common occurrence—a box of binder clips here, a laptop there. She wasn’t about to give anyone the rope of temptation. Plus, the location of her office was a little remote, which was likely the reason it was originally used for storage.
Autumn grabbed a pen and an index pad and headed down to Sterling’s office. His secretary, Doris, a plump woman who somehow managed to look attractive even with a tiny gap in her front teeth, informed Autumn that Sterling was on a call and she would have to wait.
Ten minutes later, the woman ushered her into his office and Autumn almost burst out laughing when she tiptoed out. But when she saw Sterling’s face, she knew why. The man looked like he could melt copper off a penny with his eyes alone.
She took a few, tentative steps toward his desk. “I got your voice mail. You wanted to see me?”
Sterling motioned her closer, waving his hands impatiently.
“Yes, yes. Come in.”
Autumn parked herself in one of the maroon-tufted leather chairs fronting Sterling’s enormous desk.
She gave him her sweetest smile. “Is there anything wrong?”
“The world’s gone to hell, that’s all,” he barked, and sat down hard. “I’m hoping you have some good news for me. What have you learned so far?”
That Isaac was as kind as he was cute, she thought, but she knew that wasn’t the information Sterling was seeking.
“Not much yet,” she admitted. “We went to lunch and he informed me of our assignment.”
“And what do you think?”
“It’s brilliant.”
“I know,” Sterling replied. “I thought of it, didn’t I?”
Autumn wanted to gag at the air of superiority in his tone, but at least his eyes didn’t have daggers in them anymore.
“You certainly did, and it’s the perfect way for me to observe how Isaac prepares for a new client presentation from start to finish.”
Sterling steepled his fingers. “I called you in here because I want you to know that this is a real assignment with a real client, not a decoy.”
Autumn nodded. “I’m glad you told me. I was kind of wondering about that when Isaac indicated the client seems to be afraid of computers.”
“Eleanor Witterman is not afraid of computers,” Sterling corrected. “She simply doesn’t trust them. Quite frankly, on days like today, I think she might be right.”
Autumn raised an eyebrow, not knowing what he meant but gathering it had something to do with the world going to hell.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Paxton. I’ll do my best to make every investment we advise as transparent as possible.”
“Good,” he replied with a satisfied nod. “How do you like your office?”
“It’s great. Nice touch on the old office furniture. Very film noir. I feel like Jimmy Cagney’s going to show up at any second and offer me a cigar.”
He snorted a laugh. The sound was like a street full of taxis honking in unison. “Yeah. I picked it out myself. Straight from the storage closet in the basement. My father started this business back in the early 1950s and he was something of a pack rat.”
“Are the boxes in my office the files you want me to review?”
Sterling nodded, absently jingling the coins in his pocket. “There are about eight years of records contained in those files. The rest are electronic.”
“And these are all the deals Isaac has been involved with since he’s been employed here?”
“Yes. He interned here while he was an undergrad, and then I hired him full-time after he graduated from Harvard.”
“What made you think he’d be a good fit for Paxton?”
“He’s smart. Smarter than a lot of people around here initially gave him credit for.”
She gave him a pointed stare. “Why? Because he’s black?”
Yeah. I went there, Autumn thought as Sterling sat up in his chair, his pale face aghast.
“We don’t condone, nor will we tolerate, any form of discrimination here at Paxton.”
She thinned her lips and didn’t back down. In order to conduct her investigation, she needed to have all the facts. Even the ugly ones.
“However since you asked,” Sterling relented with a shrug. “That could have been the reason initially, but it’s certainly not the case now.”
His broad smile should have been reassuring, but instead it made Autumn wonder if he was telling her the truth.
Sterling reached for his phone, effectively ending the meeting. “Please keep me posted on any new developments,” he ordered in a brusque tone. By the time she shut the door, he was already engaged in another heated discussion. She flashed a sympathetic smile at his secretary and headed back to her own office.
Isaac’s door was now closed. He had the little strip of glass next to his door, too, but she wasn’t about to peek in and see if he was there. She did, however, take a moment to peel away the cardboard from the glass in her own off
ice. Not only was it tacky, but she didn’t want to appear as if she had something to hide.
Autumn shut the door and sat down at her desk, rubbing at her pulsating temples, a sure sign a headache was in the works.
Sterling seemed appeased for now, but he’d want action quickly. While she was eager to get started, she was also afraid that she wouldn’t like the answers she found.
The first thing Autumn needed to do was access Isaac’s files on the network.
She couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed that Sterling had sent the security credentials via email. Hacking into Paxton’s computer system was infinitely more fun and challenging, but time was not on her side. With only weeks to complete her investigation, the pressure from Sterling to wrap things up quickly was real.
As she waited for her computer to boot up, she dug out two ibuprofen and a bottle of water from her tote bag. She washed down the pills and was just about to open up her email when there were three sharp raps on the door.
Her heart beat faster, and she hoped it was Isaac coming to check in on her. She spun around, trying to catch her reflection in the window, but all she saw was snow. Facing the door, she quickly smoothed her errant curls, praying she didn’t look like she’d just stuck her finger in a light socket.
“Come in!”
Felicia sauntered in and put her hands on hips. “You’ll be happy to know you’re staying right here.”
Autumn felt her headache immediately worsen, noting that Felicia looked anything but happy. The scowl on her face could make a clown cry.
“I’ve checked with my father and it seems he was the one who arranged everything, without clearing it with me.”
“I’m sorry there was a misunderstanding,” Autumn said, under the woman’s glare. “Thank you for clearing it up.”
Felicia gestured toward the brown boxes lining the floor, dismissing Autumn’s apology. “And these are supposed to remain here, although I don’t know what for, but Daddy instructed me not to remove them.”
“Were you able to locate the other boxes that were here?”
“Of course I did,” Felicia snapped. “And they are now in an undisclosed location.”
When Morning Comes Page 4