Alicia continues, "Among the items we should discuss are: strategic use of credit, health planning, strategic philanthropy, investing for social impact, identifying your family needs and goals, and—"
I cut her off. "I don't have a family—not yet. I mean, I'm single."
She pauses for a moment before continuing. "Well, we can discuss your extended family as well. And beyond that, we should discuss the growth of your assets. Are you willing to seek higher returns if it means more assumed risk on your part?"
I try to analyze her question, but all of her words are getting jumbled in my mind. They no longer have any coherent meaning to me, and I can't help but notice a new look forming in her eyes. Is this a loaded question? I look around the conference table and see my lawyers scribbling notes into their yellow legal pads.
"Sure, I'm willing to take that risk," I say.
I think back to this morning and how I ended up on the 6 train in the first place. My limo broke down, and instead of calling a cab, I thought I'd change things up. If I hadn't made that decision, I would never have met Alicia.
And now that I'm looking at her again, I realize just how much I admire her. It takes a good amount of confidence to approach a man like that on the subway, and then to manage ultra high net worth clients for her day job—well, that takes a level of financial savvy that a lot of people don't have. I can appreciate both of those things in a woman.
"I think we should take a quick break and resume this meeting in 15 minutes. Does that sound good to everyone?" Alicia asks.
I nod my head and the lawyers all agree in unison. I watch as Alicia steps into the hallway, and I slip out to join her.
"Wait," I say. "Now that we have a moment to ourselves, I just wanted to say—about this morning—"
"Why didn't you tell me?" she snaps, cutting me off. I can see anger flashing in her eyes and it catches me off guard.
"Tell you what, exactly?"
"Why didn't you tell me you were a billionaire?"
"And how should one go about telling strangers on the subway that they're a billionaire? Should I just wear a name tag that reads, 'Hello, My name is Derek and I'm a billionaire?'"
"I just mean that if you had mentioned something, we wouldn't be in this awkward predicament."
"Is it really all that awkward?" I ask. But she isn't listening.
"And honestly, what kind of billionaire takes the subway anyways?"
"The kind of billionaire who goes by the name of Derek Lowell," I smile. I don't feel like going into any details about the broken down limo, so I change the subject.
"Can I take you to dinner tonight?" I ask.
"No," she says, shaking her head. "I don't date clients. I don't want us to cross into inappropriate territory here."
"Isn't it a little too late for that?"
"That was a mistake," she says, looking down at her watch uncomfortably. "Our time is up. We need to jump back into our meeting."
"After you," I say, extending my arm and indicating that I'll follow her lead.
We enter the conference room and I notice that Nadia, the firm's Managing Director has joined us.
I look over at Alicia and give her a smile. I'm trying to keep things as casual as they can possibly be after what happened in the subway this morning. She glances back at me momentarily, a half-smile on her face, and resumes the meeting.
"Let's discuss how to allocate your investments portfolio," Alicia suggests.
"First, I have a question for you," I say to both Alicia and Nadia. "What happens to my account if something happens to both of you?"
"That's a good question," Alicia answers. "I—uh—I think I need to consult—"
Nadia steps in and cuts her off. "What Alicia means to say is that understanding who your next point of contact is at Carter Jeffries, and how liquid your assets are is paramount. We will provide you with all of this information."