Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(39)

I take a deep breath. “So the pitch is basically only me talking?”

“Relax. He’s your godfather. He’s not gonna bite you.”

“Dad, I’ve never been good at presentations.”

“You just have to know your numbers, the projected returns, and you’ll be fine.” Dad makes it seem like the easiest job in the world. “Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got to get some sleep.” He moves across the room and stops in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he repeats. “I am very proud of you, Petra. You’ll take the world by storm.”

Wow. I wasn’t expecting such a great compliment. I just hope Alex will feel the same way tomorrow.

“Thank you, Dad.” I look down, thoughtful. “You know… I’d never have managed to be who I am today without you.” I can see his eyes glittering. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for this internship.” I smile tenderly at him. “I won’t disappoint you.”

He opens his arms wide and gives me a deep hug. “Oh, Petra.” With a warm heart, he shuts his eyes for a moment. “You are the most precious gift God has given me on this earth,” he replies, gently kissing the top of my head.





Manhattan is particularly hot, humid, and sticky today. I remember at this time last year, I was in the Hamptons chilling by the pool at Emma’s villa. Not surprisingly, Emma’s there again. She just texted me an envious picture of her and her friends, all in fancy bikinis, drinking fresh watermelon juice—probably laced with vodka—and floating around the huge pool, surrounded by half a dozen hot college guys.

I scan the investment floor—no one could care less about the Hamptons here. Everyone’s hustling and bustling, trying to make their way up in finance. The interns are heavily focused on their research—desperate to impress their portfolio managers.

I text Emma back. Don’t distract me. I’m working. I have a presentation today. Feeling as nervous as ever! Xx

But Emma’s feeling playful. Girl, you must chill. Come over this weekend.

I smile. Maybe... if it goes well, count me in.

“Texting, Williams?” Annoying Andrew peers over my desk, looking down at me.

“Not at all.” I hide my iPhone discreetly in my lap. “And you? Sneaking around, as always?”

“Van Dieren’s waiting for you. We’ll see whose laughing after.”

My heart skips a beat. “Didn’t he say after lunch?”

“Looks like he’s available now.”

Oh God. My stomach knots, and I feel like throwing up. I’ve never been good at doing presentations. It was my biggest weakness in school, along with standing on a stage. I take a deep breath, grab my investment plan, and stand up from my desk. “Very well.”

You got this, Petra. Saturday you will be by the pool with Emma, celebrating and drinking watermelon juice. I try to picture the most amazing weekend as I leave the investment floor and head upstairs to Alex’s office.

“Hi, Cate. I’m Petra Williams. I have a meeting with Mr. Van Dieren.”

I feel Cate checking me out. After all, I’m not dressed as formally as the other interns, and since no one has criticized me for that, I’ve decided to wear jeans and a shirt again for work. I brought a navy blazer for the “corporate touch,” but now I recall I left it hanging on the back of my chair.

I think twice about going back to get it, but it’s too late—Cate’s already walking toward the door. “Indeed, be quick. He’s got another meeting in ten minutes.”

She knocks on his door, opens it, and invites me in.

I release a breath louder than usual and step into his office.

“Williams. How are you doing today?” I smile at the Williams. Alex’s in a good mood. He leaves his chair and walks toward me to shake my hand.

“I’m well, Mr. Van Dieren. Thank you.”

With only ten minutes available, I decide to jump right in and get it over with as soon as possible. “I won’t take much of your time. Here is the investment plan just for your perusal.” I hand him the file. Alex doesn’t open it. Instead, he sits slightly on the edge of his desk. “I’m thinking of dividing the fund into three categories based on the current and projected worth of the artists I’ve selected. Stage one: artists with a current value between fifteen thousand and fifty thousand dollars—we can expect the four artists I’ve chosen to break the one-hundred-thousand-dollar mark within twenty-four months, as their new collections are not only very positively critiqued, but they also have significant exhibitions coming up. Stage two: artists who have already had international exhibitions and have established their brand. And stage three: artists worth one hundred thousand dollars up to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars—these are the ones who can become multimillion-dollar shooting stars, either in their lifetime or after. I can’t guarantee they will become a Gerhard Richter or a Jeff Koons, but at least a cool two to three million per piece is achievable. The arti—”

“What do we do with the artwork?” he interjects. “It’s not like stocks; those are real material objects.”

“Well, there are two options: either we spend money to keep them locked in a warehouse, which I don’t recommend, or—and this is the second part of my plan—we lease them to galleries and museums so we can start generating revenue from our collection straightaway. I’m preparing an Excel sheet where we’ll manage the profits we are generating with each lease. As soon as we buy a Mr. Brainwash, for instance, we can lease it to many contemporary galleries downtown—they all love his work. We can expand this into a worldwide business model. On page eight I have the list of paintings I would like to acquire and the artists I’m interested in.”