The Black & The White (19 page)

Anson looked at Carin. “He’s serious.
We take Vegas seriously.”

I wondered if the Vegas invitation was
being extended to me as well.

The night had escaped me. We were the
last patrons at the restaurant. Stephen wanted to go somewhere
else, but it was nearing midnight and I had already consumed my
fair share of alcohol. I had forgotten to call Jeffrey as
promised.

“
I need to go home before my
liver takes any more abuse.”

“
My driver’s outside. Let me
take you home,” Stephen offered.

“
How long has he been
waiting?”

“
All night. Like a
prostitute, I pay him to leave.”

Stephen dropped me off in his
chauffeured luxury car at my front steps. “Now I know where you
live,” he laughed. “You can’t keep hiding, Isabelle.”

“
I’m not. What are you
talking about?”

“
I want to hang out more.
Please? You are fun. One drink before you go to bed?”

I was steadfast with my no. I was
drunk as well as tired.

“
You see. You’re hiding,” he
said. I rolled my eyes and smiled.

“
Come here.” I kissed him on
his cheek. It was the first time I had caught the scent of his
cologne. “Thank you for a fun night.”

The next day, I asked Andrew about
Stephen’s Vegas offer.

“
Yes, he’s serious. They’re
regulars. You should go with them. You’ll learn a lot.”

Later that morning, I received a
simple note from Stephen, asking “Vegas?”

I had never been there. I couldn’t
help but consider the offer.

Kim called me that morning to ask me
to lunch. She had just come back from three days in London. I asked
Andrew if I could go and he said no but that I could leave
early.

“
You’ve been working
overtime anyways. Market is dead, and I have things to take care of
after market close,” he said. Although it was strange of him to let
me off work early, I didn’t question it. I was happy to
leave.

“
Just be sure you leave the
password to your computer,” he added. “I’ll send confirms so it
looks like you are still working.”

I appreciated his willingness to take
over my job in my absence. It was unusual for a Wall Street
boss.

“
I’ll forward you my email
confirms. All the trades seem okay,” I said. “I put this large
trade in the small account, the rest I broke down between the other
two accounts. It all looks good. No discrepancy and all linked to
the prop book.”

I was excited that I was becoming more
competent at my job, but when I tried to open the Excel spreadsheet
of our prop account, I was rejected. Andrew had restricted my
access to the proprietary account. I was perplexed. I wondered when
he had done that, but didn’t question it, as I was just happy to be
going home earlier than my boss, especially before the market
close.

“
Have fun. I’ll take care of
the rest. See you Monday. You’re sure that it went to the right
accounts, right?” he asked again. I thought he was being overly
concerned.

“
It’s fine. The email
confirms are on your desk.”

Kim and I decided on a small Italian
eatery called Bice, where overly made-up women lunched and swarms
of business-suited men littered around the oak bar sipping their
cognacs. Kim and I maneuvered our stiletto heels through the stones
with precision, avoiding all the metal subway grids on the
sidewalk. “Nice shoes. You’re learning to walk well on those
things,” Kim said.

“
Yeah, but I keep freaking
falling all over the place. My ankles are hating me! I swear, one
more cobblestone is all I need for a sprained ankle.”

“
Those kickers are saucy.
Don’t ruin those Manolos.”

I was wearing the only Manolos I
owned, which Kim had helped me choose.

We were seated outdoors. The
restaurant patrons spilled onto the streets waiting to be seated.
Getting a table was easier for us for no apparent reason than being
seemingly attractive females.

“
We have to drink wine on a
nice day like this! Summer’s almost over and it makes me sad! Fuck!
Everything makes me sad these days.” Kim ordered a nice bottle of
wine from the wine list. “Don’t worry, I’ve got M.D.’s credit
card,” she smiled.

“
The Centurion?” I
asked.

Kim laughed. “That’s so cute.” Kim
reached over and kissed my cheek. “You’re learning. And, yes,
that’s precisely what this is.”

Kim told me over lunch that her firm
was no longer going to sponsor her work visa and she had to decide
on what to do—take another job, go to graduate school, or get
married. The U.S. government had just instituted stricter programs
for issuing working visas to non-U.S. citizens.

“
I think I’d rather get
married. Not sure I want to work anymore. Banking is tough, and I
just want to marry someone who can pay for my lifestyle,” she said
as the wine arrived.

“
I think you’re worth more
than just that,” I said. “Earn your own money.”

“
Guys like a girl who is a
bit more dependent, love,” Kim said. “It’s a natural instinct for
men.”

I asked Kim to tell me about her three
days in London with M.D. She was happy to oblige.

“
He’s just so sweet. It was
the first time we had time to devote to each other. Twenty-four
seven. We stayed at Claridges and just roamed the streets of
Mayfair hand in hand.” She paused. “We didn’t worry about who was
going to see us or anything. We just existed. As a unit. It really
was perfect. But, of course, as soon as I get home, I hear about
this fucking visa issue.”

“
I’m so fucking done with
always complaining about myself. Ugh!” Kim said, exasperated. “How
do you do it, Isabelle? How do you have it all
together?”

I wondered what she meant. I told her
I felt like my life was in a tailspin—that I hated my boss and
didn’t have a boyfriend.

“
Baby, those are your
problems? That you hate your boss and you don’t have a boyfriend.
Come on! Life isn’t bad.”

“
But you should hear how my
boss talks to me, Kim. It’s beyond inappropriate.” I told her about
some of the comments Andrew had made to me.

“
Oh puh-lease. Every girl
gets hit on by their boss. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.
She laughed. “Welcome to Wall Street, my love.” She raised her
glass.

“
Why are you laughing? It’s
been a real sore spot for me.”

By the time the food came, I had
already finished my second glass of wine. I noticed I was becoming
more tolerant of alcohol.

“
I told you before to be
careful. Just do what you think is right. If you don’t feel
comfortable working for him, then don’t. But it will be the same
anywhere on Wall Street.” I was disappointed that she seemed
dismissive.

“
Okay, but tell me. Who are
you having a fling with in the office?”

I was shocked by her
directness.

“
Um. No one.”

“
Well, that’s a fat lie.
Everyone ends up having some sort of affair with someone in the
office. It’s inevitable. So, tell me. Who?”

“
Seriously. No one. Not
really attracted to anyone. I’m kind of talking to Jeffrey, so no
one,” I defended.

“
Of course no one is cute.
No one in finance is ever cute. If they were cute, they’d do
something else. That’s why office romance stays in the office.
Makes coming to work more interesting, though.”

Kim finished the bottle of wine and
beckoned for another of the same. The conversation turned backed to
her life.

“
I really don’t know what I
am going to do about M.D., or about work…or life,” Kim said. “I am
in a knot. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

There was a small part of me that
reveled in her misery. I liked knowing that her life wasn’t as
perfect as I had imagined. I particularly liked that she came to me
to ask for advice.

“
What is it that you want?”
I asked.

“
I guess there’s a part of
me that just wants to go back to Malaysia. I mean, I need to get
away from it all,” Kim said as she dried her eyes with her napkin.
I had not realized she had been crying. I had never seen her cry
before.

“
Oh, baby.” I leaned over
and gave her a hug.

Kim took another sip from her glass,
still teary-eyed. “I should have never gotten involved with him in
the first place.”

A
t
work, Stephen’s direct line rang in. Andrew looked at me to pick it
up, but I looked away. I didn’t know why I grew nervous when his
name showed up on my inbox or his direct phone line lit up, but I
did.

Across the room, someone yelled out
angrily. “What are you crazy? I am not fucking paying you a steenth
for that execution. You guys are shit over there. I could have
traded it electronically. You’re in the box!”

A steenth was one-sixteenth of $1,000,
the standard compensation for brokers’ brokers. I knew the trader
was talking to his broker, as language such as that was reserved
for brokers’ brokers. I wished the trader would keep it down. I
couldn’t hear the conversation Andrew was having with Stephen,
though there was little to extrapolate from the uh-huhs, okays,
sures, and hmms I could hear.

When Andrew got off the phone, he
turned to me and said, “Alright, you want to go to Vegas? You can
go, but there’s a condition.” This was the first mention of Vegas
since Stephen had brought it up at the restaurant the previous
week.

“
What’s the
condition?”

“
You have to be open-minded.
I mean really open-minded. There will be a lot of things that may
be tough to swallow.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow
simultaneously. “I’m not tough to swallow, hee-hee.”

How perverted, I thought. I looked at
him with disgust.

He continued. “You have to understand
that it’s Vegas.”

I asked if I would have my own room. I
was suspicious that going to Vegas was Andrew’s excuse to pressure
me into sleeping with him, as he had intimated many times
before.

“
Yeah, those guys get free
rooms at The Palms. You’ll get one. But Isabelle,” Andrew paused,
“I mean open-minded, right?”

He looked for affirmation. I nodded
yes, every bit as annoyed with him as I was with the
conversation.

I had asked Andrew if I could bring
Carin along.

“
Is she tight-lipped?”
Andrew asked. I nodded. For a moment, I questioned if I was in over
my head?

I called Carin to see if she was keen
on a weekend trip to Vegas with my boss and five other
men.

“
Who are the other
men?”

“
I’m not sure. It wasn’t
indicated. Probably clients. Corporate schmoozing and
all.”

“
Oooh. Sounds like a dirty
weekend.”

The Vegas trip started to seem less
innocent but increasingly inappropriate and bawdy.

“
What are you going to tell
Blake?” I asked.

I’m just going to lie,” Carin
explained without hesitation. “I’m going to get laid in Vegas. Fuck
Blake.”

“
Wow! Really?” I said. Carin
was apparently on a mission.

“
He started to lock his
Blackberry and his phone. Can you believe that?” Carin complained.
“He’s such an asshole. I know he was deleting numbers because you
can tell that the call log wasn’t full. I mean, why wouldn’t it be
full unless you’re deleting numbers, right?” she asked.

“
Okay, you need Vegas more
than I do! Will you help keep me in line?” I asked.

“
No, you have to get out of
line. I need to let loose and go crazy…and you do too. And no
feeling guilty about anything,” Carin said.

Vegas with Carin would be fun. In
fact, anywhere with Carin was fun. I started to grow
excited.

In the office, Andrew asked me to
check my personal email account. It was his way of communicating
with me without the worry of prying ears or spying eyes.

Isabelle, try not to tell anyone in
the office that you and I are going. They already think we’re
having an affair. Book a first-class ticket on your credit card and
I’ll pay for the trip. I can’t pay for Carin’s. It would look too
obvious. Have Stephen take care of her flight, will you
please?

People think we’re having an affair? I
wondered why Andrew had never told me such a rumor was
circulating.

That Friday, after work, Andrew and I
coordinated a plan to avert suspicion of our planned trip. I had my
weekend bag with me.

“
At 3:30, I’ll bring the car
to the deli. You jump in the car quickly and we’ll head to JFK from
there.”

While I stood at the deli waiting, I
was feeling slightly nervous carrying out this elaborate ruse. But
something about the act being so clandestine was exciting and
fun.