Keep Quiet(47)

“Like which ones, for example?”

Jake had to think a minute, though he’d picked the stocks himself. “Disney, IBM, Eaton Corporation, Qualcomm, ExxonMobil, Johnson & Johnson, and Chevron, to name a few.”

“That list could use some tweaking, don’t you think?” Guinevere sniffed. “It doesn’t include the biotech companies, which are a very good buy right now.”

Jake could tell he was losing her, by a new distance in her demeanor. He tried to get his head in the game. “That brings me to an important point about Gardenia. We don’t follow trends or crazes. If you read the biotech companies are hot, that doesn’t cause us to rebalance your portfolio.”

“Why not? You’ll miss out. Rather, I will.”

“Our view is long-term.” Jake felt his mouth go dry when he saw Amy getting up. He caught a glimpse of her talking to someone, but couldn’t see whom. “A bubble can burst and a fad stock … can turn out to be a dog, and we don’t want you in that position. We diversify where appropriate to lower your risk.”

“Well, obviously.”

Jake couldn’t get back on track. He couldn’t have Deaner out there, on the loose, saying God knows that. “Nor do we … churn your portfolio. Our turnover average … is 15 to 25 percent over a year, much lower than the typical 75 percent.”

“But your fees are higher than a place like Vanguard.”

“That’s true, but … we charge nothing to manage Treasury bills or similarly liquid assets, and we charge 1.5 percent on stocks and 1 percent on—”

“That’s not insubstantial.” Guinevere lifted a graying eyebrow. “It’s higher than Vanguard, which is essentially offering its services at cost.”

“You’re comparing apples with oranges. They administer index funds, which are—”

“I know what an index fund is.” Guinevere frowned, a fissure deepening between her bright eyes. “Please don’t condescend to me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Jake swallowed hard. Amy left her desk, and people were milling around in the area. “Vanguard has $2 trillion under management … and 28 million clients—”

“What difference does that make?” Guinevere’s eyes narrowed. “They told me that at my asset level, they would assign me to an asset manager, just like you.”

“But we have a more personalized approach … not only in the stocks we select, but in the … uh … ancillary services we offer.” Jake couldn’t focus. He didn’t know where Amy was. “We view your portfolio … er, as merely one part of the whole that we will provide for you or your loved ones—”

“My husband and I had no children. There’s just me. When I die, my money goes to Thorncroft Equestrian Center.”

“Okay, then we can help you find an accountant and an estate lawyer—”

“I have an estate lawyer, and my will is in place, as is my living will and power of attorney.”

“Good, well, then.” Jake was kicking himself. He knew she’d have her ducks in a row. He reached onto the middle of the table, picked up a Gardenia promotional folder, and offered it to her. “This sets forth all of our ancillary services. For example, in the event of your incapacity or illness, we will step in and liaise with your estate lawyer. We can even pay your household bills for you—”

“In other words, you do a lot of hand-holding.” Guinevere set the Gardenia folder aside. “But I don’t need my hand held. I have a horse and a pony and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of both. In fact, they’re provided for in my will. So why do I need Gardenia?”

Jake found himself shifting in his chair, to see the hallway better. Amy still wasn’t back, and for a second, he felt a bolt of fear that Deaner could have done her harm. Anything was possible.

“Jake, that’s it! Am I boring you? Because you keep looking over my shoulder. Hmph!” Guinevere reached down and grabbed her bag. “You know, I had been worried that I was a rather low-net-worth individual for Gardenia. I saw on your website that many of your clients have assets of $10 million and up, and I’m concerned that my account wouldn’t get the attention I deserve.”

“Guinevere, wait, I assure you that $5 million is a lot of money by any measure, and it’s a lot of money to—”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve just made my decision.” Guinevere stood up and tucked her bag under her arm. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be on my way.”

“No, wait.” Jake jumped to his feet. “Hold on, please reconsider. I can assure you that here, you would get kid-glove, personalized treatment.”

“I’d rather save the fees.” Guinevere charged for the door, with Jake on her heels.

“But if you would—” Jake followed her out, only to find Lewis Deaner standing with Amy, in front of her desk.

“Jake?” Amy turned to him, in confusion. “Mr. Deaner says you asked him to stop by this morning, but I told him you were in with Mrs. LeMenile. I asked him to wait in reception, but he doesn’t seem to want to—”

“Hello, Jake.” Deaner’s eyes bored into Jake, from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Did you forget about our appointment?”