Chapter 5 - The Woman Wall Street Couldn't Ignore
Three days later, Keller Energy attacked me publicly.
A financial website published my name.
NORTHSTAR RESEARCH AUTHOR REVEALED AS MANHATTAN WAITRESS AND COLLEGE DROPOUT.
My photograph appeared beneath the headline.
Within an hour, reporters stood outside The Sterling.
Dana called me.
“Don't come in.”
“Am I fired?”
“What? No.”
“Then I'm coming.”
“Fiona, there are thirty reporters downstairs.”
“I have a shift.”
“Fiona!”
I went anyway.
Grant met me outside.
“You're serious?”
“I need money.”
He stared at me.
“The market is discussing your report on national television.”
“And my landlord still accepts dollars.”
“I can pay you.”
“No.”
“I didn't mean—”
“I know.”
We stood facing each other.
Then Grant nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You work.”
He looked toward the reporters.
“I'll handle them.”
“You're not my bodyguard.”
“No.”
That familiar confidence returned.
“I'm much more expensive.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
Inside, customers whispered as I crossed the dining room.
At table twelve, Derek Walsh was waiting.
I stopped.
“You've got to be kidding.”
He lifted both hands.
“I come in peace.”
“Nobody who says that ever does.”
Nolan sat beside him.
Derek looked embarrassed.
“I owe you an apology.”
“For which part?”
“Most of Sunday.”
“Specific.”
He sighed.
“I laughed because Grant laughed.”
Grant, behind me, said, “Excellent defense.”
Derek glared at him.
Then looked back at me.
“I was a jerk.”
“Yes.”
“Sorry.”
“Accepted.”
Nolan slid a tablet toward me.
“You should see this.”
The stock had fallen forty-one percent.
More importantly, regulators had opened a formal investigation into Keller Energy’s disclosures.
Grant sat.
“We exited part of our position.”
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
“How bad?”
“Two hundred and twelve million.”
I stared at him.
“You lost two hundred million dollars?”
“Would have been closer to six hundred without you.”
Derek whistled.
Grant ignored him.
“Holloway Capital owes you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I warned you because you asked.”
“You warned me while I was mocking you.”
“That was mostly for my own entertainment.”
Nolan laughed.
Grant leaned forward.
“Come work for me.”
I stopped.
“No.”
He blinked.
Derek nearly choked on his coffee.
Grant looked genuinely offended.
“You didn't even hear the offer.”
“I know what it is.”
“You don't.”
“Research position. Large salary. Fancy office. Everyone suddenly pretending they never laughed.”
Derek slowly lowered his coffee.
“Fair.”
Grant continued.
“Senior research analyst.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody there wanted me until I saved you money.”
“That isn't true.”
“It is absolutely true.”
Grant leaned back.
“What do you want?”
That question was harder.
I looked around The Sterling.
Four years.
Thousands of plates.
Hundreds of wealthy conversations overheard.
Sixty-three thousand dollars of medical debt.
An unfinished degree.
A report written at two in the morning.
“I want Northstar.”
Grant frowned.
“What?”
“I don't want to work for Holloway Capital.”
I sat opposite him.
“I want to build Northstar Research.”
Nolan smiled immediately.
Grant stared at me.
“You want your own firm.”
“Yes.”
“You have no capital.”
“I noticed.”
“No institutional relationships.”
“I know.”
“No employees.”
“Yes, Grant.”
“No completed degree.”
I held his gaze.
He stopped.
Then smiled.
“You've thought about this.”
“Every day.”
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much capital?”
“I’m not taking charity.”
“I didn't offer charity.”
His expression became serious.
“I'm offering an investment.”
I laughed.
“Sunday you called my report amateur.”
“Sunday I was an idiot.”
Derek pointed at him.
“Can we record that?”
Grant ignored him.
“I'll invest.”
“On what terms?”
“Now you sound like an analyst.”
“I am an analyst.”
His smile disappeared.
“You're right.”
He extended his hand.
“Then negotiate.”
I looked at it.
Three days earlier, that hand had taken my cracked phone.
Now it was offering me a seat at the table.
I didn't shake it.
“First condition.”
Grant lowered his hand.
“Go.”
“You don't control Northstar.”
His eyebrow rose.
“Second?”
“You don't approve my reports.”
“Third?”
“You don't get advance copies unless every client gets them.”
Grant stared.
“You're asking me to invest in a company that refuses to give me preferential information.”
“Yes.”
A long silence.
Then Nolan laughed.
“I love this.”
Grant looked at him.
“You aren't helping.”
“No, I'm really enjoying it.”
Grant looked back at me.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
I smiled.
“Give me my phone.”
He looked confused.
Then realized he was holding it.
He had picked it up from the table without thinking.
He immediately handed it over.
Everyone laughed.
May you like
Including Grant.
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