Gardener: The Roots Of Ancient Evil (4 page)

BOOK: Gardener: The Roots Of Ancient Evil
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Seven

 

              Tommy drove for about an hour before he decided to make the call. By the time the interview was over, it was nearly three thirty. If he went home, he’d have to spend an uncomfortable few hours while his dad went through his nightly ritual. He was in too good of a mood for that. After deciding to go through with his spur of the moment decision, he pulled over and parked. Reached into his briefcase and pulled out his smartphone. Practiced once in the mirror, and then dialed.

              “GenSpan, how may I direct your call?”

              “Dr. Berg, please,” he said confidently, and waited.

              “This is Dr. Berg,” she answered, a little curious.

              “Hello, my name is Agent Smith with the department of gene splicing, we believe you are operating without a license,” he said spontaneously.

              “What? Who is this?” she asked. Tommy could picture her smile.

              “It’s Tommy. You got plans for dinner?” He had to wait until she stopped laughing. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

              “No, I don’t, what time were you thinking?” she asked finally.

              “Anytime. I just finished a pretty good interview. Which means I’m wearing a suit, if that’s OK,” he joked.

              “Well, only if you promise to take off your tie. You mind coming by here?” she asked.

He agreed and she told him to get there around five thirty. That meant he had an hour to kill. He drove to the Promenade and wandered aimlessly. He couldn’t get Shea’s incredible offer out of his mind. If he only closed on one property every six months, that would be more money than he’d hoped to make within the next decade. Was he really only interested in the property?

 

              “Hello, Tommy Ricker for Dr. Berg,” he said to the receptionist. She immediately looked down at the list of appointments, and he could see the confusion creep into her expression.

              “I’m a friend, we’re meeting for dinner. She’s expecting me,” he explained. She smiled, nodded, and then made a quick phone call. He didn’t bother waiting for instructions; he turned around and took a seat in one of the very plush chairs. As soon as he sat, he got a text.

              “Little behind, please wait!” it said, followed by several interesting emoticons. He texted back a very plain-looking “no prob.” He relaxed back, taking in the surroundings. There was another person waiting, same age as him. Wearing a suit like him. Tommy waited until he was off the phone before giving him the “what’s up” nod. The man stood up, came over, and extended his hand.

              “Santiago Batiste, Cutting Edge Capital,” he said professionally.

              “Tommy Ricker, unemployed,” Tommy replied as plainly as he could.

              “Here for an interview?” Santiago asked, sitting down in the chair next to Tommy’s.

              “No, here for a date,” Tommy said, smiling. “But I did just come from an interview, that’s why I’m wearing this.”

              “Oh, got it. I’ve got a dinner meeting with Bradley Pena, you know him?”

              “No, I’m afraid not. Viviana, the girl I’m meeting, this is kind of our first date,” Tommy explained.

              “Jesus, dude! That means you’re more nervous than I am! That’s their PhD geneticist, right?” he asked.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, but so far she seems easy to talk to. Doesn’t get weird or anything, and she even knows I wait tables until I find a decent gig. So you’re here for investing?” Tommy asked, hoping to change the subject.

              “Yeah, we’re based on the West Coast, Bay Area, this place is supposed to have some kind of anti-aging miracle drug or something,” Santiago said. “They sent me to feel them out, and if it even sounds like it makes sense, to go ahead and throw some money at it,” he explained.

              “How much you talking?” Tommy asked, curious.

Santiago looked up at the receptionist to make sure she wasn’t listening. “I’ve got a green light of up to six mil,” he said.

              “Serious? Just off a hunch, or an outside chance something will come through?” Tommy asked.

              “Tommy, you have no idea. Last year we invested in a hundred and fifty companies. Average of two mil each. One of them we spun off for a billion and a half. And even that one,” he said, pausing again, “that one it’s still iffy if they’ll ever turn a profit. You have no idea how messed up this market is,” he said.

              “What do you mean?” Tommy asked.

              “You’ve heard of the ‘greater fool theory,’ right?” Santiago asked.

              “Yeah, I’ve got an MBA, hang on,” Tommy said and dug out a business card to hand to him. Santiago gave him his too. “Greater fool theory is that people buy stuff not because they think it’s worth something, but only because they think they’ll sell it to somebody else for an even higher price,” Tommy said, remembering learning that in an undergraduate business class.

              “Right, and that other person is the greater fool. That’s pretty much the business plan of my venture capital company. They spend a couple hundred million a year, and all they need is one of these companies to come up with something that sounds halfway decent,” he said.

              “Then they build it up, make it look really good, and flip it to somebody else,” Tommy said. “Exactly what was happening to the housing market recently.”

              “Yeah, until everything fell apart,” Santiago said, shaking his head.

              “So let’s say you throw a couple mil at a company like this, and a year or two goes by and there’s nobody to sell your interests to. What happens then?”
              “Well, for companies like this, they do everything they can to get people like me to keep throwing them money. And just hope one day they’ll make some kind of breakthrough,” Santiago explained.

              “So let me ask you this,” Tommy started, wondering how to phrase it. “Suppose you got some company that knows they’ll never come up with any kind of product, but are just hoping VCs like you will throw a few mil their way. What do you do then?” Tommy asked, not sure if Santiago understood the question.

              “You have no idea. There is so much venture capital money floating around, and so many of them are trying to find the next Facebook before somebody else does, I don’t doubt that half the companies we invest in are pure nonsense. My orders are if it even looks like they might come up with some new gizmo or drug or the next social media thing, I throw ’em a couple mil and see what happens,” Santiago said. “It’s just pure numbers. Throw a couple hundred mil around per year, and one of those will be worth a billion.”

Tommy sat a minute, let that sink in. “Hey, you ever hear of Shea Industries?” Tommy asked. “That’s who I interviewed with earlier.”

              “Yeah, I’ve heard about them, don’t know much about them. Some kind of real estate, commercial? Not sure. I think they’re a really old family, Europe, from way back before the American Revolution,” he said.

              “That’s the impression I got. I talked to Dominic Shea earlier today. Guy wants to hire me,” Tommy said.

              “No kidding. That’s impressive. Hey, man, don’t let my numbers fool you. All this VC business is just like the housing marketing. It’s a huge bubble that’s going to pop eventually. But if you can get in with one of those old-school companies that have been around for a while? That’s like your career for life,” Santiago said. “Tell you what, a few of the older guys, upper management at my place, may know more about that guy. Let me ask around and see what I can find. I won’t be back to Frisco for a couple days, but give me a call in a week or so.”
              “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind doing that?” Tommy asked.

              “Of course. When this VC bubble pops I may need to ask you for a job!”

Tommy chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Maybe working for some ultra-rich and powerful family wouldn’t be such a bad gig after all.

              “Sorry to keep you waiting!” Viviana said, coming up and putting her hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

              “No worries, just making connections,” he said, grinning at Santiago. As they walked out, Tommy turned back to nod goodbye to Santiago. He caught him checking out Viviana before shooting Tommy a “how the hell did you get a girl like that?” glance.

 

 

Eight

 

              Tommy opened his eyes and was hit by several sensations. The first was that he was in a strange bed. The second was that he wasn’t alone. Nor were he and his bed partner wearing any clothes. The previous night came flooding back in an instant. Dinner had been incredible. Not the food, just how easily the conversation flowed. Every joke he made she thought was funny. No uncomfortable gaps in the conversation. No weird talk about job hunting or venture capitalists. Just an enjoyable evening.

Deciding to go back to her place was easy. She’d invited and he’d accepted. He didn’t have to come up with an excuse to keep her away from his drunk dad. Tommy suspected that she knew he lived at home, being a waiter. He didn’t know if she chose to go back to her place because she didn’t want to interrupt the flow, or because she wanted home field advantage. Either way, he didn’t care. The clock read half past six, and he suspected he would be getting the boot shortly, since she had to get ready for her job. His shift didn’t start until eleven, so he wasn’t in any rush.

He rolled over to face her. She was lying her back, he on her left side. She felt him and rolled her head softly, making a small sound.

              “What time you need to get up?” he asked softly. She smiled, her eyes still closed, and shrugged her shoulders.

              “Little bit,” she said. But then her eyes popped open when one of the phones started vibrating. Tommy doubted it was his, since nobody would have any reason to call him this early. He reached down onto the floor and found his slacks. Felt his phone.

              “Not mine,” he said. She reached up to her bedside stand and picked hers up, checking the number.

              “Do you know how early it is?” she asked immediately. Then Tommy heard her laugh, and mumble her agreement a few times.

              “You’re coming in today? Wait, how do you know this guy?” she asked. Tommy was curious, but didn’t want to eavesdrop.

              “Well, just be careful. Those guys don’t spend all that money for nothing. How long are you staying?” Tommy listened, trying to imagine who it was and what they were talking about. “Well, let me know when you’ve got time, and we’ll get together, I’ll show you my place,” she said and ended the call.

              “My sister’s crazy,” she said.

Tommy chuckled. Always wondered what it would be like to have siblings. “Older or younger?” he asked.

              “Younger. Still in school,” she said.

Tommy sensed a bit of concern. “She’s coming to visit?” he asked carefully.

              “Yeah, but, uh, we have issues,” she said.

Tommy decided he’d leave it alone. Family issues were the last thing he wanted to talk about. Or think about. If he did accept that job with Shea, at least he’d be able to move out. But still being in town, he would feel obligated to watch out for him. Check in on him. He’d been hoping to get a job somewhere far away, where he wouldn’t really have a choice. Horrible as it sounded, even to himself, Tommy would rather pay for a service to take care of his dad as he slowly slipped into alcoholic old age than deal with it himself. There were still far too many unresolved issues.

              “But she is coming, so do you want to meet her?” Viviana asked, a little unsure.

              “Sure. But when you say ‘crazy,’ does that mean she’s going to be like carrying an ax around and swinging it indiscriminately at people?” Tommy asked as seriously as he could.

She poked him in the side despite her laughter. “No axes, but she just has, shall we say, an interesting way to finance her education. Our parents think she’s got a grant,” she said, sitting up.

              “Does she sell cocaine or something?” Tommy said, trying to bring back her smile.

              “No, but she uses one of those sugar-daddy sites,” Viviana said. “Older guys who sponsor girls through college.”

Tommy could tell it wasn’t something that was easy for her to talk about. “I tried one of those. No takers. I had to borrow a shit ton instead,” he said.

              “You were probably targeting the wrong market,” she teased. “But just so you know, whenever we talk about that we get into a big fight. So if it comes up, maybe you should hide somewhere.”

              “She doesn’t want to let you pay?” Tommy asked. He imagined a PhD at a cutting-edge biotech company likely did pretty well.

              “Like I said, issues,” Viviana said. “Sorry about that.” She slipped back under the covers, nose to nose with Tommy.

 

              Tommy walked into his house at a little after nine. He could hear his dad in the kitchen. He desperately needed coffee, as he hadn’t stopped anywhere on the way home. He decided to go straight to his bedroom and wait until his dad left, which he usually did around ten. That would give him about forty-five minutes to grab some coffee and something to eat. He plugged in his laptop, not having checked any of his emails since yesterday afternoon.

One was particularly interesting. A medium-sized furniture company he’d had a phone interview with a few weeks ago was asking for him to call them. Before making the call, he quickly reviewed his notes, looking for their folder on his hard drive. Twenty-seven employees. Slowly growing market share. Mostly a family business, but they needed a general manager. They were starting to get orders from small showrooms across the country, and a few of their dining room sets were being sold in department stores. The position started at $60K a year, but would increase as the business increased.

Based on the information he’d gathered from the interview and the research he’d done on the company, he was certain he would be able to increase their sales by at least twenty or thirty percent. Most of their sales came from referrals and word of mouth. They’d grown very slowly over the past twenty-five years. With the right advertising and marketing strategy, maybe hiring a few more builders to increase throughput, Tommy could easily see this company growing in size in the next five to ten years.

Doubling the size of a medium-sized business during a down economy would certainly be good for his career. If this email had come in two days ago, he would’ve jumped at the chance. After last night, he wasn’t so sure. But was it wise to make a career decision because of a relationship, one that hadn’t even started yet? He’d call them to see what they had to say. If they did offer him the job, which was likely since they wanted him to call back, could he delay the decision for a week or longer? He would like to see if Santiago had anything to say about Shea. And to see what developed with Viviana. Hearing his dad mutter to himself in the kitchen didn’t make things easier.

 

 

BOOK: Gardener: The Roots Of Ancient Evil
12.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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