We found the offices of the Money Talks hedge fund crosstown in one of the high rises. Wilson was getting cold feet about confronting the recipients of his stupidity. I, on the other hand had feet warm enough for the two of us.
“I’m not sure this is the right way to handle this,” he said, stopping on the sidewalk in front of the building.
“Okay, so let’s assume this is the worst way ever to handle this,” I said.
“That’s kind of what I was thinking.”
“Good, then you’ll get my point. So the idea is awful. Well you know what, who cares?”
Wilson listened and nodded and then said, “Is there another part to that, or just, who cares?”
“That’s it, and that’s plenty,” I said. “Let’s go teach someone a lesson.”
We pushed through the revolving doors, crossed the lobby and gave a nod to the security guy as if we saw him every day. We rode the elevator to the tenth floor and followed signs for the Money Talks office.
Inside there were two large gold dollar signs on the wall behind a reception desk. They were bathed in soft floodlights from a variety of angles. A young gal sat at the desk, texting and laughing and paying no attention to us. Without looking up or acknowledging our presence she fired off a greeting.
“Yeah. Who you here to see?”
“Rob,” I said, in a tone that said we were expected. “He’s expecting us,” I added in case the tone didn’t work.
She set her phone down and looked up. “And who can I tell him is here?”
I hesitated for a second, then said, “Just tell him Mr. Night and Mare are here.”
She squinted and I could see the gears upstairs starting to spin.
“Who’s who?” she asked, pointing a pen back and forth between Wilson and me. “Which one is night and which one mare? And I’m assuming that’s spelled K-N-I-G-H-T, and Mair is M-A-I-R?”
“One should never assume,” I said, “especially with names. I’m Night, and it’s N-I-G-H-T. And Mare is M-A-R-E. You just tell old Rob Night and Mare are here for him.”
“Okay,” she said. “First names?”
“Worst,” I said. “Tell him Worst, Night, and Mare are here.”
“Is that like a law firm, or an LLC?”
I nodded yes while Wilson shook his head no. Multiple reactions to a multi-part question. She did the smart thing and moved on.
“And you,” she said, pointing her pen at Wilson, “first name?”
“I don’t have one,” he said.
I gave him a little sideways look worried he was going to blow the whole thing with that answer.
“Hmmm,” she said. “Just Mare, M-A-R-E? You like a singer or something?”
“No, I don’t sing,” he said.
I kicked him in the shin, hoping to snap him back to reality. She was the gatekeeper. What on earth was the man doing being honest with her? I realized we were dangerously close to having this all slip away and decided to step in.
“He was born in a small Eastern European country under Soviet rule. They often took the name away from the first born male as a sign of respect,” I said.
She nodded. “Interesting,” she said. “But who was that respectful of?”
“The czar,” I said.
“They had a czar too?”
“Yes, it was a confusing time.”
“I’ll say.”
She fumbled around with a headset, untangling it from the base of the phone console. “This is so exciting, I always wanted to call back and announce guests.”
“This isn’t your regular job?” I asked.
“Oh, no. I’m a trader. We furloughed the receptionist right after we got the PPP loans from the government. I just needed a break from making money for a few minutes. It’s tiring you know.”
Behind us the door opened and three guys from a restaurant came in pushing carts stacked high with takeout trays and catering platters. Wraps, sandwiches, pasta, and cookies all being wheeled in. The last guy had a cart with a gigantic cake in the sign of a dollar bill.
She waved them in and hit a buzzer to unlock the door to the inner sanctum.
“Go right on in, guys,” she said.
“Someone’s birthday?” I asked, looking to make small talk and keep her from thinking about why she should let us in.
“Nope. Big celebration. A few of the guys bought everyone lunch. Said they hit it big. Something about found money,” she said.
Wilson whimpered, his knees buckled and he wavered. He looked damn close to collapsing right there.
“Does Mare not like celebrations?” she asked.
“Only as much as the next guy,” I said. “He’s just a little under the weather.”
She called back and spoke to someone. “I have a Mr. Worst Night, and a Mare out here. No…no…Worst Night Mare. They’re here to see you. Okay, I’ll tell them. And save me a piece of cake.”
She took off the headset and looked up. “He said tell you to leave another sack of money and get lost.”
Wilson started to wobble, like a woozy boxer coming off the ropes. He was going to go down any second.
“Can I use the bathroom?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Go right in. It’s on the left.”
“And I don’t feel well either,” I said.
“By all means you should go too,” she said.
She hit her buzzer and we strolled inside. Up ahead was a large open room filled with laughter and yelling and people milling about with plates of food. Down the hall we went, striding onto the trading floor.
“Well, if it isn’t Putz One and Putz Two,” some guy yelled from the middle of the group.
We walked toward the group and the crowd parted. It was like two gunslingers in a western were about to face off.
“We’re going to give you a chance to make this right,” I said. “But only one chance.”
Rob took a bite of what looked to be a turkey wrap. He took his time chewing and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He answered when he was good and ready.
“As you can see, I don’t scare easy,” he said.
“That’s not what I see,” I said. “I see a guy stuffing his face with food paid for by someone’s honest mistake.”
“Prove it,” he said. “Oh, I’m sorry, you can’t.”
The group laughed, having a good time at our expense. From across the room someone yelled.
“I’m getting worried about GameStop. It keeps going up. We got half the firm invested in shorting it.”
“Relax, it’ll fall,” Rob said, not taking his eyes off me. “You know what, I’m going to do something nice.”
“I thought you’d see it our way,” I said.
“I’m going to give you guys a sandwich and a cookie. Each.”
More laughs. Big laughs now.
I looked around and spotted the desk closest to where Rob had been standing. I looked at Wilson and gave him a slight nod. He returned it. He’d follow my lead.
“Well, thanks Rob, that’s great of you,” I said.
He smiled.
“You now what I’m going to do?” I asked.
“Leave?” he said.
“No,” I said.
Everything went silent and still for a moment. This was it. Rob sensed it. The group edged closer, waiting for me to make a move.
I darted to Rob’s desk and slapped madly at the keyboard. Wilson raced to another desk and found a key he liked and pecked away at it like he was learning the piano.
A voice across the room screamed.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa who the hell is buying GameStop? We’re shorting it you idiots.”
Chaos erupted, people dropping food and racing to desks.
I slapped every key I could find with no clue as to what I was doing.
“Stop buying,” someone else yelled.
“Nooooooo,” another yelled.
An alarm went off that sounded like a French police car. Then red lights flashed. There was frantic and frenzied activity.
“We bought ten million shares, what the hell…”
“No, it’s fourteen million,” someone screamed.
“Ahhhhh,” came from across the room
I went over to Wilson and pulled him away from the keyboard. I handed him a piece of cake.
“Our work is done here,” I said.