“Have you changed your mind then? I knew you would.” He sounded so upbeat. So bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in his glossy suit that glinted in the warm chandelier lighting.
“Um . . . maybe,” I replied, playing along, even though I had no idea why I was here and what he was talking about.
“Please, come through. Can I get you something to drink? Some champagne? Moët, maybe? Or would you like some Dom Perignon?”
“Champagne? It’s so early in the morning!”
“We can add some orange juice to it if you like? It’s obviously hand-squeezed,” he said seriously. As if the kinds of people that came to this place drank champagne in the morning, because it was perfectly normal to drink champagne in the morning, especially if it came with orange juice. That made it a breakfast drink, after all. One of your “five a day.”
“Uh . . . sure,” I said, still going along with everything around me. “Either is fine.”
“Martha. Martha!” Johan clicked his fingers at the receptionist. “Can you bring Miss Small a mimosa. And use the Baccarat crystal glasses, please. Bring it to boardroom five. Thanks.”
He said my name, Miss Small, with such meaning, as if my name represented something to him. No one had said my name with meaning before and I wasn’t sure how to take it. Johan led me through to another gold, opulent-looking room. This company obviously wanted to impress its clients. Was I someone to impress, though?
“Please sit.” Johan pulled the chair out for me and I slid into it.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as the champagne appeared in the shiniest glass I’d ever seen. I reached for it and took a small sip. My throat was dry anyway, mainly from the nerves, and it was rather delicious actually! I usually never drank alcohol; it increases your chances of certain cancers, after all. Except on a Friday. I have one glass of red wine on Fridays. It contains flavonoids which are antioxidants that are good for you.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you came back,” he said. “I didn’t like the way our last meeting ended, with you leaving so abruptly. I think that maybe our suggestions were a little too . . . uh, how shall I say this? You like a much more conservative investment, even if the returns aren’t as good as some of our other more, uh, ‘risky’ ones.” He gestured air quotes. “Not that any are at all risky—our fiduciary experts are very sure to balance risk and stability carefully. But I think you would prefer something a lot more stable. Most of our other clients like a portfolio that delivers more returns, often offshore, like we discussed, but we at Vast pride ourselves on understanding each unique client and what their particular needs are. So, I’d like to suggest something completely different to you today. Something much more conservative. Which is what I think you are looking for?”
“Uh . . . yes,’ I said. I was sure this was the correct answer, because what I’d come to learn about myself in the last few days was that I was certainly a very risk-averse person.
“Great, that’s excellent to know. And again, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you came to see us again.”
“Uh . . . me too.” I took another sip of the champagne, and then another one, and another: very delicious, actually. There was something decadent about drinking champagne in the morning, and just a tiny bit thrilling.
“If you are happy with our ‘Market First Portfolio,’ which delivers a little more than a money-market account at very stable interest rates, then I have all the paperwork here if you are ready to sign with us.”
“Uh . . . that sounds . . . good.” I finished the last sip of champagne and put the glass down.
“Martha, Martha! Get Miss Small a top-up, please.”
“Wait, no.” I held my hand over the glass and looked from Johan to Martha and back again. They both seemed to be looking at me with a great sense of anticipation. “Uh . . . okay. Why not?”
“Why not indeed?” Johan clapped his hands together happily now. Did he want me drunk? “Oh, Martha, and please bring Miss Small her handbag too.” He turned to me. “You left it here last time. I was sure you’d come in for it, but I guess you have so many handbags you probably didn’t even notice it was missing. We