His demeanor was patient,
As the nature of his work.
He allowed his hand to travel the breadth of his parcel and its parchment contents, awaiting the publisher’s ear.
“Sorry about that.”
Neil returned the receiver to its base.
“Lehman is trying to convince me to keep this stock. Says the Fed will cut interest rates tomorrow by a quarter point.”
Maxwell nodded, though his attention resided on the opposite side of the window.
“Who do you invest with?”
Neil paused momentarily, and raised his brow.
“That’s serious capital. They won’t even speak with you unless you have…”
“Please don’t speak to me about money. It’s vulgar.”
“And so are your rates!”
Maxwell smiled and retorted.
“Ever since Ben stopped advising me, my portfolio…”
Neil was confused.
“He was in finance?”
Maxwell observed his colleague.
“He is finance.”
The response only confounded Neil further.
“We need to tell his story, Neil.”
He placed the documents onto the desk, and in a deliberate motion, slid the rose petal pages closer, toward the editor.
Neil observed the pages, without touching them. And though he did not speak, he simmered. He still harbored ill memories of their first encounter at Jean Georges.
“It’s out of the question.”
“No, Mulberry! The guy made a pass at my wife!”
“It wasn’t a pass, Neil. He just…”
Neil gave him a moment to state his case, though Maxwell stumbled.
“He just sees things differently. He speaks a different kind of truth.”
Again, Neil rumpled his brow.
“What does that mean?”
“His truth is not ours. That’s all.”
Neil beheld him for a moment longer, before reaching for the documents and taking them in his grasp. He placed his Gucci spectacles onto his face, though still squinted in perusing the document.
Implode. Part XXXIX – DK