“You. Definitely.”
“I am honored. Very well, just a moment.” There was the sound of rustling pages. “How does two o’clock Thursday afternoon sound?”
Colin was very nervous going into the meeting. He had met several of the bank managers during his visits. They and the tellers, men and women alike, seemed to enjoy finding reasons to stop by, speak with the child who always appeared on his own, always kept several thousand dollars in his account, always managed his affairs without adult supervision. He thought their cheery greetings carried the false gaiety of clowns.
Mateo Garcia was something else entirely.
He carried himself with the balanced ease of an aging boxer. In that regard, he was very much like Colin’s father. But from the very first moment, he treated Colin with an almost courtly grace. There was no hint of derision or doubt to his greeting. He shook Colin’s hand and ushered them into his office, stood by the edge of his desk until they were seated, offered them coffee, drew over a chair on their side of his desk, ignored the stares that followed their motions through the interior glass wall, kept Colin at the center of his attention.
Even so, once the formalities were out of the way and all documents signed, Colin sensed a reversion to type. The experienced funds manager doing his best not to talk down to his newest and youngest client. All the brochures were stacked up there on his desk, ready to be laid out in a colorful array. Explaining why Colin had been right to come here, correct in trusting this man and Wells Fargo with his money—
“I don’t want any of these funds invested anywhere,” Colin said.
Even now, when his carefully prepared spiel was shattered, Garcia maintained his composure. “Excuse me?”
“You can put them into money market funds only. Make no investment that will delay movement of funds when I’m ready.”
“Whenyouare ready.”
“Correct. And another thing. I’ve been studying your investment strategies, at least what I’ve found online. In the future, I may decide to grant permission for you to take certain steps. But nothing you do, no fund you choose, may charge an up-front commission.”
The older gentleman responded by turning his caramel-colored gaze toward Roland. “That would severely restrict the number of options available to us.”
“It might be a good idea if you took notes,” Roland said mildly. “I am here to bear witness to my client’s wishes.”
“Yourclient.”
“Did nothing I said on the phone break through your expectations?”
“Of course, Roland. Don’t talk silly. But—”
“Everything you see there in this young man’s account, the entire sum, is due to his calculations. His actions. He started withnothing. Do you understand what I’m saying?Nothing.”
“That’s not possible.”
Roland nodded. “Finally, we are on the same page. Nothing about what has happened over the past year is possible. Starting with how we met. A young man, little more than a child, asking to borrow money. Then impressing me and my partners to the point where we trusted him with our own funds. Granting him a fund manager’s commission. Standing by and watching as he made one absurd investment decision after another. Wanting time and again to tell him he was wrong to do what he did. And yet, our investments continued to rise until …”
“Yes? Until what?”
When Roland remained silent, Colin said, “I was duped. I almost lost everything.”
“Because of criminal activities,” Roland said. “Nothing about this was your—”
“It was all my fault. If I hadn’t been such a child—”
“Stop with that nonsense.”
“If I hadn’t been so blind,” Colin insisted. Releasing the shadows and the guilt. “If I hadn’t been so certain that I knew everything. That I could trust my calculations in every situation. That I could trust the market.”
“Blind is the absolute last word I would ever use to describe you,” Roland said mildly.
“And what happened. I came within four days of watching the account sink to zero. End up owing money I didn’t have. Needing to choose between bankruptcy and seeing everyone—”
“Colin, these accusations are simply—”
“Everyone whotrustedme. Everyone whoreliedon me. Everyone who gave me theirsavings.” He panted softly, standing at the end of a nightmarish race, fleeing shadows which threatened to catch up every time he fell asleep. “Everybody in the fund going into debt. Because of me. Being a child.”
Roland watched him with unblinking solemnity. “Nineteen members of my law firm. Eleven accountants and their support staff. Trustees for the academy. Professionals at the business of investment. Every single one of them also blind, if you insist upon using that terrible word.”