Page 32 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
“I think the paper roses are illogical and naive,” Oliver said, babbling whatever came to mind first. “We’d all fare better if we put our faith in solid, immutable concepts like math. Er… I’m actually going to D.C. for the Neo Fintech Conference, and I’m honestly relieved I’ll be able to get away fromthe circus of origami roses that everyone’s obsessed with. Perfectly intelligent people have been reduced to the equivalent of horoscope believers, and it’s embarrassing.”
Marissa’s mouth dropped open.
Behind the camera, Jess cringed.
Fuck,Oliver thought.
On the screen, Marissa recovered with a laugh. “Well, Oliver, it makes sense that you prefer math. Youarethe director of quantitative analysis.” Then she segued back to addressing her audience. “After the break, we’ll take a look at today’s market movement and what the surge in tech stocks means for your portfolio.”
The show cut for commercial break.
“Sorry about that last bit,” Oliver said to Marissa. “I got nervous. I didn’t mean to come across that harsh.”
She waved off his concern. “Don’t worry about it. Most of my viewers are only looking for stock tips, anyway. They don’t really care about the interview fillers; those are just transitions. Your explanation of the quant program was great. Thanks for being on the show with me, Oliver.”
He started to say, “Thank—” but the connection cut him off and the tablet screen went blank. Marissa and the CNBC team had to prep for the next segment, so they were done with him.
“How bad was it?” he asked Jess, as he detached his lapel mic and handed it to her.
“Hard truth?” she said.
“Please.”
“You’re not that important. No one’s going to care about a talking head’s opinion about paper roses.”
“I’m more than a talking head—” But then the indignation passed and was quickly replaced by relief at what Jess had said. Oliver was a finance wonk. No one who believed in the damn origami would be paying any attention tohim.
He let out a long exhale and leaned back in the chair. Competition against Zac notwithstanding, in this moment, Oliver was glad to be insignificant.
When he returned to his office, there was a stack of mail on his desk. It was the usual stuff—offers to join this investment organization or that financial association, catalogs for continuing education, and, for some reason, glossy high-end travel brochures. Actually, that made sense. Most bankers at Hawthorne Drake were wealthy and liked spending their money. Oliver was the odd one out, hoarding his savings out of fear that the lean days of his youth would come back for him again. Besides, he knew firsthand that showing off your wealth made you a more likely target. His mother—always with a con and on the hunt for new marks—had taught him that.
However, sandwiched between an application for a Sapphire Titanium Elite credit card and a brochure for a river cruise down the Danube River, was a yellow paper rose.
Not justanypaper rose, though.
The gold-foil-striped one Oliver had previously crumpled and thrown away.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. How the hell did this get here?”
He immediately looked into his trash bin, which was empty, of course, because the janitorial crew had been by.
Oliver frowned at the origami flower. Maybe it wasn’t the same one?
But even as he unfolded it, he knew that it was. The paper had a thousand tiny creases in it from when he’d previously squashed it in his fist.
Inside, though, the rose contained more than how he’d left it.
Sometimes wishing can make a dream come true.
I guarantee it ABSOLUTELY does not.
I respectfully disagree, and I’m willing to bet you on it.
It was signed off again with the same tiny rosebud heart as last time.
Irritation quickly simmered into anger, and Oliver could feel it building hot beneath his skin. He was still recovering from his flower-related gaffe during the CNBC interview. And this was one piece of origami too far.
He grabbed the paper rose and stormed out into the hallway to where all the cubicles were. He shook the golden flower in the air and yelled, “All right, ha ha ha. Which of you practical jokers took this out of my trash and then stuck it back in my mail today?”
