Page 20 of Raise The Bar
“Isee no reason to make any changes to your existing portfolios. Your investments are growing and the market is stable.”
“Great,” I say for at least the tenth time in the last half hour. My financial advisor, Brian, has been droning on about stocks and return rates and God knows what else while I sit here nodding and throwing him the occasional “great”. We meet once a month like clockwork and sometimes I feel these monthly meetings could be monthly emails.
I became Brian’s client after I sold my first app. Since then I’ve been courted by several big names in finance who promised to bring me from wealthy to obnoxiously rich. But I stuck with Brian and have zero regrets. He’s got great instincts and an even better moral code. This is not a guy who’s going to make questionable calls that will land me in prison. Plus, he reminds me of a younger, fitter Santa Claus. He’s only in his late forties, but his hair is almost entirely a silvery white and he’s got a complexion that could only be described as rosy. Combine that with a modest beer belly and there you have it: younger, fitter Santa.
We’re meeting in his office, as usual. It’s large and tastefully decorated with a great view of the city. Between the June sun flooding the space from the floor to ceiling windows and Brian’s deep baritone telling me about my various accounts, I’m having a hard time staying awake.
There was a time when I was an active participant in these meetings. When the money first started rolling in, I cared deeply about how it was being handled. I carefully monitored my investments and kept my eye on the markets. But like with everything else, I’ve lost interest lately. The general gist of these conversations is that I have a lot of money and that money continues to make me more money.
I can pinpoint the exact moment my passion for life started to dwindle. It was two years ago, just after Amazon bought my second project. When the deal went public, I was flooded with the expected well wishers. Friends, collaborators, and people I’d never met were falling over themselves to shake my hand. Guys who didn’t speak to me in high school were suddenly reaching out to congratulate me, oh and hey– did I want to invest in their businesses?
I took it all in stride, happy about the outcome of the deal and excited for what was to come next. One night I was at a bar, chatting up a lovely brunette with a nice smile and legs that went on for miles when a guy I’d gone to college with interrupted us.
“Bro!” he belted, slapping me on the back. “Congratulations on the Amazon deal! That’s it! You did it! You’re set!”
I laughed it off at the time, but found myself thinking about it as I was leaving the brunette’s apartment later that night. The entire ride home his words repeating in my brain.That’s It. You did it. You’re set. The words were still there when I woke up the next morning and the morning after that. Nothing changed at first as I continued to do all the things I’d normally done. I attended meetings, had lunch with investors, and saw my friends. I saw women casually like it was an Olympic sport. Many women. Very casually. Nothing was different, but every day the words came back like the lyrics to a song you can’t get out of your head no matter how hard you try.
That’s it.
You did it.
You’re set.
I started zoning out in meetings, even canceling a few I couldn’t bear to endure. Work became less of a driving force in my life once I realized I didn’t need to do it anymore. I still saw friends, but when I did I tried to focus on them and avoided talking about myself.
My romantic life remained active. I had always been popular with women and becoming wealthy only increased my appeal. Shocking, I know. Only now, I didn’t even need to try. They were actively seeking me out. I was always very clear with all of them that I was not interested in a committed relationship and while that deterred a few, the vast majority didn’t seem to care.
Every week that I didn’t have a deadline to meet and every Friday night that my phone blew up with beautiful women wanting to fuck me added up to me feeling like nothing I did mattered anymore. Do I keep showing up to meetings? You bet. Do I still hook up with women when they call? All the time. Do I care about any of it? Not even a little bit.
“Great,” I say again as it’s been a while since I’ve thrown one of those out. When I realize the low drone of Brian’s voice has come to a stop, I look up at him to find him regarding me with an amused expression.
“Considering that I just told you the building is under attack by renegade circus performers and your answer was ‘great,’ I’m going to assume that you have not been listening to me for quite some time.”
“I’m sorry, man,” I rub a hand over my face, laughing off my embarrassment and leaning forward in my chair. “My mind is somewhere else entirely.”
“It’s alright. Saturday afternoons are not the best time to talk about finances,” he says, rising from his desk. I had originally planned to meet him for an early lunch this morning, but rescheduled at the last minute so I could be at the coffee shop for Maggie’s date. “Especially when we’re cooped up in an office. Now, if you were to take up golf…”
“I hate golf. It doesn’t matter how much money you make me; I will always hate golf.”
He raises his hands in defeat. Walking around to the front of his desk, he perches on the edge of it. “It was merely a suggestion.” He rubs his slightly distended stomach and continues, “I could use the exercise.”
“Stop it. You’re a devastatingly handsome man and I won’t tolerate you saying anything to the contrary.” I grin up at him as he laughs heartily.
“Tell that to Sandra. She’s bound and determined to get my cholesterol in line. The woman is adding kale to everything,” he sighs miserably and I follow him to the ornately carved office door. “By the way, we’d love to have you over again for dinner soon. I’m not sure what will be served, but I can guarantee there will be kale in it.”
“I will happily eat whatever Sandra puts in front of me.” I’ve known Sandra almost as long as I’ve known Brian. She’s his other half in every sense of the word. The two were high school sweethearts. They broke up when they went to different colleges, but reconnected in their late twenties. Every time I hang out with them, I can’t help but notice the way Brian looks at his wife. Like she’s a treasured belonging he thought he’d lost forever, only to have returned to him more valued than before.
“Wonderful, I’ll send you an email with some possible dates.”
“Perfect.” I’m almost out the door, but I pause. “Thanks again for rescheduling on such short notice.” I hadn’t given him a reason why I needed to move the meeting when I called him last night.
“It was no trouble at all,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. I can’t remember the last time I heard you excited about something.”
I’m momentarily frozen, but recover quickly, plastering on one of my patented “everything’s fine” grins. I say goodbye to Brian and walk casually to the elevator. It’s Saturday so there is no one in the reception area, but I keep the broad smile on my face until the elevator doors close. Only then do I relax my face and take a few deep breaths.
Brian would have no way of knowing it, but he’s just put a spotlight on something I’ve been doing my damndest to ignore. Maggie excites me. The mere thought of seeing her sends waves of panic and pleasure through my body. In the few hours I’ve spent in her presence during the last week, I’ve felt more alive than I have in months.
What is it about this woman that sends my feelings into such disarray? She’s gorgeous, that’s obvious, but this goes much further than her pretty face and phenomenal body. She’s intelligent, hilarious, and kind. I never know what ridiculous thing is going to come out of that tempting mouth, and I love it. I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking through life, wanting nothing but having everything. Now I finally want something, someone, and I can’t have her.
