In Too Deep(122)

"Heck no, I'd be all for it," I said. I knew that if Donna brought me the file, she and I would split the revenue for the investment. It could be enough that Donna could find herself the second member of our intern class to get their way into a real office, even if it was shared with another junior associate. "I'm in my office right now. You know where it is?"

"You kidding? Your office is like Valhalla for the interns right now. We all want to get in there."

I laughed. "Well, don't be too overwhelmed, it's not the greatest office in the building. I don't even have a window, and the air conditioner in here sucks."

"But you do have your own space. I'll be up in three minutes." The line went dead, and I waited for Donna to show up. She was true to her word, and knocked on my door, breathing just a bit heavily, three minutes later. She really needed to get more exercise, she spent too many hours working. "Hey Tabby, here you are."

I looked the file folder over. "Hmm, family owned HVAC installation and repair, looking at expanding their service from four trucks to seven, maybe open up a second location across the river to catch that traffic. How're the financials?"

"Solid. Good ROI, maybe twenty-five percent cash on cash yearly. They're only looking for twenty-five grand, I figure the Smileys can see that back within the first year even with the firm's percentage. Taxes might bite them in the ass a bit, but they're going to clear easy profit on it. I say let the accountants worry about the taxes, they're going to make money."

I nodded. "It's good. So why aren't you taking this to your current clients?"

Donna shook her head. "I don't have any angel investor clients. All I have currently is your standard stock market type crowd, mostly in mutual funds. Besides, my managerial portfolio is based around stocks and bonds. I'm currently fourth in the region in terms of highest performing fund managers, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't. Word of that gets out and you're going to be leapfrogging me on the firm's ladder very quickly," I said in true appreciation. Donna was that sort of woman, you couldn't get mad at her, she was just so sweet and kind. Also, she was just so unabashedly smart, you ended up feeling like a good high school player being jealous of Kobe Bryant or something, it just felt stupid. "So who are the top three?"

"Rob Viscount at East Street, Xavier Washington at Hammersmith, and an online guy, goes by the name of The Frost King. He's a freakin' legend amongst the market day traders, guy seriously has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to picking the right stocks to invest or short. He's down a bit from the past two years, and slipped to third, but he's still beating the market by twenty-five percent. God I'd love to meet him."

I smiled to myself and shrugged. "Who knows, maybe you'll get a chance some day. In any case, I'll take this to Marcus Smiley, and you get to keep your share of the credit for your portfolio. What is it now?"

"Thirty-three percent," Donna replied quickly before stopping and blushing. "Sorry, I took a moment to look it up before I called you."

"How about we make it fifty-fifty then?" I said. "You did most of the hard work on this I see, I don't want to take the credit from you."

I could see Donna considering. Was I being generous because I felt bad for her, or was I being truly rewarding because she was deserving of it? Finally, she smiled. "Okay, great. I'll get the papers drawn up. If you don't mind, can I get a chance to meet the Smileys some time? I've seen them on TV a few times, and they're just so cool."

"Sure. I'm sure Marcus and Sophie would love to meet you sometime. When I give them the brief on this I'll pass it along."

"Thanks."





* * *



Tabby





Pressman Contractors was a pretty standard looking industrial contractor's office, the building itself being cinderblock and concrete that could use a fresh coat of paint. Two trucks were parked outside, Ford F450's with the Pressman logo on the side and a back bed filled with tools and all the other things a repairman might need. I parked my little Prius in the spot marked for visitors and made my way inside. "Hello?"

"Just a moment!" a call came from the back. I heard a bit of frustrated grumbling and muffled curses, then the unmistakable sound of a wrench being dropped on a floor. "All right, there we go."

The guy who came out of the back was cute, plain and simple. He was about five ten, maybe a hundred and eighty or so, with brown hair and hazel eyes that went with a strong, square jawline. He was wearing a slightly tight polo shirt with the Pressman logo on it and some work pants, both of which he filled out nicely. He looked like the sort of guy that housewives called over to check out their units just to see him in tight jeans and a sweaty shirt as often as possible. "Hi, how can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Tabitha Williams, from Taylor & Hardwick's, I'm a financial analyst. Is your boss around?" I asked, tossing my hair over my shoulder. My long auburn red hair is one of my favorite features, and I knew I was flirting. It's just in my nature, and besides, this guy was worth flirting with.

"Dad's out at a work-site right now," the young guy said, "but I'm sure I can help you. Are you here about the request for venture capital we submitted to you guys?"