Chapter 8: The Art of the Deal

February 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Keiko sighed deeply, then bent down and rested her head next to mine.

"I never knew how empty I was," she whispered.

She was still for a good five minutes, but there was no risk I'd go soft as the gentle ripples of her tight, silky tunnel massaged my shaft. She began to move, almost imperceptibly at first, simply grinding her mons against my pubic bone. About a minute after she started moving, she blew out a long breath, and the ripples intensified to spasms. Keiko moaned softly and pushed herself down harder against me to increase the pressure on her clit.

"Wow!" she breathed.

When her first orgasm passed, Keiko began moving more forcefully, altering her motions — back and forth, grinding in a small circle, and after two more minutes, up and down. She gave herself two more orgasms, then leaned down again and caught her breath.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"Just keep doing what you're doing, but a bit faster."

Keiko sat up, smiled, put her hands on my shoulders, and began moving much faster and more forcefully and gave herself one more orgasm before I had mine, groaning as jets of cum spurted into her spasming pussy. When my orgasm passed, Keiko stretched out on top of me, keeping me inside her. I cupped her firm butt in my hands as she gently squeezed and relaxed her muscles, keeping me harder longer than usual after a release. Eventually, though, I softened, and Keiko whimpered as I slipped from inside her.

Several minutes later, she lifted her head and asked, "Do you want to do it again?"

"I do," I replied.

February 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Did last night meet your expectations?" I asked Keiko as we got into the shower on Tuesday morning.

"Yes," Keiko replied happily. "As did this morning!"

We'd had two more rounds, identical to the first, before falling asleep, then one more when we woke up. Now, I carefully soaped her body, and once she'd rinsed off, she did the same for me. After I rinsed off the lather, we got out, dried off, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. Once we'd eaten, we got into my car so I could drop Keiko at Loyola on my way to work.

"Did I satisfy you?" she asked.

"Very much so!" I replied. "I really enjoyed last night and this morning."

"Could I visit you again?"

The group of girls who were available to me seemed to be ever-increasing, and I almost laughed, thinking about Bianca's suggestion that I have a harem instead of a traditional marriage. That would be fun, but I still wasn't convinced it was a good option. In the short term, though, I would be happy to entertain any girls who asked.

"You could," I replied. "Just call, and we'll find a time."

When we reached Loyola, Keiko leaned over, and we shared a soft French kiss.

"Thank you," she said. "It was wonderful."

"I agree!"

She got out of the car, and I waited until she was inside the building before heading to the office. The morning was routine, and at 11:25am, I went downstairs to meet Anala. She greeted me with a hug, and we headed to a diner just down the street from the Hancock Center.

"How have you been?" Anala asked as we walked.

"Busy," I replied. "A lot has changed since the last time we were together."

"Such as?"

"First, I have something for you."

I handed her the Osco bag, and she laughed when she looked inside.

"Point taken!" she said. "Thank you. Now, about the things that have changed..."

I gave her a rundown of the things that had happened at work, with Bev, with my mom, and with Huifen, revealing everything except Glen's name but explaining both my mom's and Bev's relationships with him.

"There's a lot to discuss, but first, let me congratulate you on the new job."

"Thanks. And actually, there's something very specific I want to discuss with you if that's OK with you."

"Anything, you know that."

"In my dreams!" I declared.

Anala laughed, "I see at least that hasn't changed!"

"Never! Anyway, what I wanted to discuss is how to deal with conflicts between two principles of my ethical system - keeping my word and honoring my relationships."

"I take it this has to do with your mom and Bev?"

"Correct. I promised Bev I would never reveal what she said, but once she'd said it, I felt compelled to tell my mom. Fortunately, my mom solved my dilemma for me by telling me what she knew from Glen. But that didn't alleviate my underlying confusion about which was more important — keeping my word or telling my mom something she had an absolute right to know?"

We walked into the diner, so Anala waited until we were seated and had ordered our drinks before answering.

"Did you reach any kind of resolution in your mind before your mom called you?" she asked.

"No. I was leaning toward telling my mom, but I kept coming back to my most important principle — keeping my word."

"And a situation developed where keeping your word did harm to someone you love while breaking it would harm another person you love."

"That pretty much sums it up."

"Which harm would have been greater?" Anala asked.

"That's a difficult question to answer," I replied. "But I think, in the end, my mom would have suffered more potential harm if I didn't tell her."

"Which one would have hurt you more?"

"Cynically, I'd say telling my mom because by not telling her, I could have plausible deniability about knowing. If she found out, I'd do my best to avoid letting on that I knew, though I wouldn't lie about it. Mostly, I felt I could finesse it with my mom one way or the other. With Bev, it was black and white, and she'd hate me, and I'd hate myself."

"And that's not enough to make up your mind?"

"No," I replied, "because I felt my mom had an incontestable right to know that her future husband had impregnated my best friend while my best friend was a Senior at Goshen High. Once it was shown that Bob wasn't Heather's dad, my mom's fiancé had to know Heather was his, or at least strongly suspect it. Thankfully, he confessed while I was still trying to decide what to do."

The waitress came to take our orders, which interrupted the conversation. Once she had taken the orders, she left, and Anala spoke.

"Which concerns you more? How do you feel, your reputation, or Bev's opinion of you?"

"Forget my feelings," I replied. "Those are totally irrelevant to the decision."

"I don't believe that for one second!" Anala declared. "Even the cold, logical Jonathan isn't immune to emotion."

"You do remember what I do for a living? Emotion has no place at all in deciding what to do."

"I think you're fooling yourself," Anala said, "but I'll play along for now. Your reputation, or Bev's opinion of you?"

"Aren't those the same thing?"

"Are they? Maybe with regard to Bev, but your reputation is universal, even if it's made up of the amalgamation of discrete opinions."

"My reputation for honesty and being a straight shooter is a key factor in my current and future success. But keeping my word is part of that, too."

"You've discovered a conundrum which exists in every ethical system — what to do when core ethical principles conflict. And in your case, if we apply the principles to your work, you suffer reputational risk either way. How would you resolve conflicting duties of honesty and client confidentiality?"

"Fortunately, there are clear rules for most situations. If there is criminal activity, or regulatory violations, my obligation is to the requirements of my license. In other words, I wouldn't keep a secret that would cause a violation or keep a violation of which I became aware secret. That specific course of action was demonstrated clearly not long after I started when Mr. Spurgeon reported one of his own people to the government for violating securities regulations."

"What about a situation that wasn't illegal where you had conflicting obligations?"

"I'd speak to Legal or Compliance to get an answer."

"OK, I think I made an error going there because you work in a highly regulated industry. But here's the thing — outside the regulations, would you conceal material facts from a client that would absolutely influence their decision?"

"No. My reputation, and the firm's reputation, ride on disclosing that information."

"Even if it might harm another client?"

"Yes."

The waitress brought our food, and we began eating.

"If you were to apply those rules in your personal life," Anala asked, "what would the result be?"

"I'd have told my mom, which I was predisposed to do. What held me back was my promise to Bev. But your question about material facts basically hit the nail on the head."

"Then I think you have your answer to this specific dilemma. That said, it's not a universal answer because every time there are conflicting principles, there will be different facts and conditions, and you'll have to decide the right course of action. Each time you do, you'll refine your criteria and eventually come up with a workable system for deciding how to resolve conflicts."

"I really don't like hurting anyone."

"Nobody does! Well, sociopaths don't care, but you aren't a sociopath."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked with a sly smile.

Anala laughed, "Now that you mention it, you do exhibit some of the main traits — boldness, disinhibition, and egotism! But you have empathy, and I've seen remorse, which means you aren't, because it doesn't lead you to treat people badly, or if you do, you regret it and show remorse."

"I agree with you on boldness and egotism but only partly on disinhibition. I have zero regard for social convention, but I'm not overly impulsive, and I think I have pretty good risk assessment skills."

"True," Anala said with a smirk, "but you are hypersexual!"

"Is that one of the traits? I don't remember that one."

"It is, but I personally think that's a bias that psychology has for monogamy, similar to the one for heterosexuality, and both are related to the traditional social norms of the Abrahamic religions."

"Along with a lot of other social baggage that we ought to discard," I opined, "but I think that's a losing argument with the general public at the moment."

"I would agree. Prudishness is inherent to the American culture, except in advertising and what amounts to soft-core pornography in what are called 'Hard-R' movies. American attitudes with regard to sex are positively medieval!"

"I'm not going to argue with you."

"And you didn't even proposition me!" Anala said with a smile.

"As if that would have any chance of success!"

"That never deterred you in the past!" Anala replied mirthfully.

"We were having a serious conversation, and I didn't want to derail it."

"That's new," Anala observed. "Have you become more serious?"

"Nope! Still irreverent, but perhaps a bit more circumspect."

"That's not a bad thing; just don't go too far down that path. I like the fun, carefree, irreverent Jonathan."

"Even when he's trying to convince you to let him put his oversized «lingam» in your «yoni»?"

Anala laughed softly, "Especially then!"

"Not that you'll ever say 'yes'!"

"But you see, your egotism has convinced you I might!"

It was my turn to laugh, "You're right, of course, but I also know that it's not the right thing for us to do, so even if you said 'yes', I'd have to say 'no' for all the reasons we discussed before."

"So even if I changed my mind about how it would affect our relationship?"

"You haven't, so it's a moot point! I was serious when I said I didn't want to risk the friendship. Of course, if you're going to avoid me for months..."

"I am sorry," Anala said. "I've been incredibly busy, which is no excuse. And now I have an answering machine!"

"Which requires that you return messages."

"I promise I will."

"Tell me about my replacement," I said.

"That's not it at all!" Anala protested.

"Gotcha!" I chuckled.

"You're bad!"

"Very!" I declared. "And that's when I'm best!"

"Smart ass!"

"You know it!"

"Let's have lunch again soon," Anala said.

"You bet!"

I finished my lunch, and we walked back to the Hancock Center. Anala and I hugged, and she left to head back to IIT while I went upstairs to my desk. The first thing I did was dial Kasia Pucinski's number so I could arrange a meeting with her. I wasn't sure how receptive she'd be, given how our encounter just after I'd signed the lease had ended.

"Pucinski Realty Trust," a woman's voice said.

"This is Jonathan Kane calling for Ms. Pucinski. I rent the house on Estes Avenue."

"She's not in the office at the moment; is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm buying a house and wanted to discuss options with her."

"One moment."

I heard what sounded like a file cabinet being opened and then some papers rustling.

"Mr. Kane? You signed a standard short-form lease with a one-year term and no allowance for early termination."

"I understand that," I said. "I'd like to speak to Ms. Pucinski and see if we can work out an arrangement."

"Our policy is not to do that."

"I understand, but I'd still like to speak to her. May I leave a message, please?"

"Let me have your number, and I'll let her know you called."

"Thank you."

I gave her my work number and then ended the call. I wondered if Ms. Pucinski had flagged my file, but there really wasn't anything I could do about it if she had. I was prepared to pay the rent for April, May, June, and July, if necessary, so I really had nothing to lose by seeking an accommodation and offering an incentive for her to lease the house before August 1st. There was nothing more I could do until she called, so I went back to work.

About ninety minutes later, my phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane," I said.

"This is Kasia Pucinski. My assistant said you called."

"Yes. I'm buying a house and wanted to discuss the lease with you."

"The lease doesn't allow early termination," she said.

"I understand that, but I have a proposition for you. Could we meet to discuss it? I can't take the time right now because I'm at work."

"I have a meeting at 4:00pm. We could meet at 5:00pm if that works for you. Should I come to your office?"

"That would be fine. Come to the 30th floor of the Hancock Center, and the receptionist will call me."

"OK. See you at 5:00pm."

We ended the call, and I turned back to my Bloomberg Terminal.

"Buying a house?" Paige asked. "How the heck can you afford that on our salaries at your age?"

I actually had no idea how much she made and wondered if her salary was comparable to mine. Salaries were meant to be private, though commission and bonus amounts, which made up the bulk of compensation for traders, were published.

"Yes," I replied. "I have housemates now in the place we rent, and they'll pay rent."

"Must be nice to be the teacher's pet."

"Hard not to be," Tony chimed in. "Did you see the size of the account he brought in? Almost $4,000,000! The commission alone is almost forty grand! And check out the returns in the fund he's managing."

Those returns were published monthly, but analysts, like traders, could look at the 'hot' data, which reflected the previous day's closing prices. If I could figure out how to do it, I'd get automated quotes into my Apple and I could have my returns at the current market prices. To get those now, I had to plug the numbers into my spreadsheets, which took some effort.

"He does the same job we do," Paige said.

Tony shook his head, "That's not how it works here. Your only value to Spurgeon is how much money you make for him. And that comes down to how much money Mr. Matheson earns and how much he values what we provide. Jonathan is making money directly and gets those benefits. I wish I had the balls to play that game. Because I don't, I only get derivative benefits from the value I provide. But those derivative benefits are damned good, and I'm not complaining."

Tony had been at Spurgeon for four years, and his bonus the previous year had been just under thirty grand. Mr. Matheson relied heavily on him, but as Tony said, he didn't earn directly, which was, in the end, the only thing that Noel Spurgeon valued.

"It's bullshit," Paige declared. "They couldn't make a dime without us!"

"That's not even close to being true," I replied. "They might miss some opportunities, but it was just Mr. Spurgeon, Mr. Matheson, and a secretary who doubled as an assistant when they started, and they made a ton of money. Do we add value? Absolutely, because if we didn't, we wouldn't be here. But in the end, the only thing that matters is making money. I was here for the layoffs just over a year ago, and people who didn't make enough profit were axed. Not that they didn't make money, but they didn't make enough."

"He's right," Tony said. "I've seen that happen twice since I've been here, though the first one was just a single underperforming broker, not a wholesale housecleaning of low performers. Fundamentally, if Mr. Matheson doesn't make his usual returns, we're ALL out, no matter how well we've done our job. We're all one bad quarter, or perhaps even one bad trade, away from unemployment.

"And that's why our compensation is above average — risk and reward. Your bonus, which usually makes up a significant part of compensation for anyone except support staff, directly depends on Mr. Matheson's performance. You'll see that at the end of the year when your bonus is paid out. My advice is to do your job well, don't complain, don't be jealous, and bank some serious coin in December."

That was excellent advice and applied to everyone. I felt the trouble with Paige was a chip on her shoulder, but I didn't know enough about her to know if that was actually true and if it was to know the source of the chip. I had further research to do before the end of the day, so I turned back to my Bloomberg Terminal and typed in some keywords, then began reviewing the results of the query. Fortunately, Paige let it go, but she was obviously unhappy.

Just before 5:00pm, Anne called to say that Kasia Pucinski had arrived. I went up to reception and asked Anne if it was OK to use the small conference room just off the lobby. She said it was, so I invited Ms. Pucinski into the conference room and shut the door.

"We plan to move out on or before April 1st," I said.

"And the lease runs until July 31st."

"It does," I replied. "I totally understand the terms of the lease, and I will make the required lease payments for April, May, June, and July, if necessary, but I have a proposition for you."