Chapter 37
When he told Celeste about it several nights later, she laughed out loud. “You spent the evening listening to music with Jaden Barrett? If that don’t beat all.”
“Who is he?”
“Jaden Barrett is one of the highest paid divorce lawyers in the Southeast. He clocks out at over a thousand dollars an hour.” She chuckled. “I wonder who he billed that time to.”
“I thought …”
“What?”
“All they talked about was poker and horses. And jazz. I thought maybe he was a bookie. Or a professional gambler. Something.”
“He’d probably agree with the gambling element.”
“How do you know him?”
“You ever heard the term pro bono? Barrett’s served as pro bono attorney on a few child-custody cases I’ve brought to him. And some other things we don’t need to mention in polite company. He’s one of the good guys. When he wants to be.”
Colin had no idea how to respond.
“I imagine your barber friend grew concerned about this young kid who pops in for late night jazz sessions. Well dressed, groomed to the max, getting all fit and tan with his swimming—”
“Stop with all that.”
“What, stop. It’s the truth. So Angelo mentions you to his poker buddy, and the buddy says, maybe I should give this kid a look.” She chuckled again. “I’ll give Jaden a call, tell him you’re another good guy. Did you tell him about your investments?”
“It sort of came out.”
This time she laughed out loud. “Man, I wish I had been a fly on that wall.”
“We’re going to a concert together. Fifth of August. At the Live Oak Bank Pavilion.” The stream of frustrating days ahead seemed endless. “At least I’ve got something to look forward to.”
“Colin, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t you give me that. Is it just your studies?”
“There’s no ‘just’ to that mess.”
“Is that all it is? If not, you know you can tell me—”
“I’m lonely.” The words tasted hot as lava in his mouth. He felt ashamed for having even spoken. Just the same, there were more pushing, pressing to emerge. “I don’t have any friends my age.”
Celeste gave that a respectful beat, then said, “I’ve been half expecting this. Maybe I should have brought it up before now. You are in a difficult position. Every teenage passage is awful. Don’t get me wrong, but yours is …”
“I know. Special.”
“I don’t like using that word. I was going to say, particularly stressful. And loneliness is a big issue. Other than your physical state, you are not an adolescent. You can’t relate to other fifteen-year-olds except as a prefect. As their superior. Which you are. Not like, you’re better than them.”
“I know what you mean.”
“And because of your age, the people you’re drawn to see you as somewhat beneath their notice. I mean, socially. Which leaves you bereft. I hate having to talk to you like this, but it’s the truth.”
Just having it out, being understood, helped more than he could ever have imagined. “What do I do?”
“You’re going to hate hearing this. I know I would. But the answer is, give it another year.”
“No way.”
“You’ll be taller, you can practice claiming to be older than you are. But until then, well, a lot of the time it’s going to feel like you’re holding your breath.”
Nine days later, the second Wednesday in July, Colin traveled to the bank by himself.
The investment manager, Mateo Garcia, was exactly the same, courteous and cordial and grave all at once.
He even seemed to be wearing the same slate grey suit.
“Roland called me this morning after the two of you spoke. He wished to stress how important it is that I pay the most careful attention to what you have to say.”
Colin was vastly relieved to hear they had spoken. Roland had been tied up with a court case for months. It was the first conversation they’d had since March. “He told me I could trust you.”
“To do what, exactly? Roland didn’t say.”
“I want to take a long position on a stock.” Colin had mentally practiced what he wanted to say all morning. Now the words formed an orderly row in his head. “If you feel like it’s necessary to give me advice, okay, but I’m really not interested.”
Mateo leaned back in his seat. “I see.”
“It’s important that all my instructions are carried out immediately. The same day. The same hour, if possible.”
He made a note on a sheet of paper. “Go on.”
“Most important of all, I need to make sure that what I tell you doesn’t go anywhere else. No one hears of this. No one else acts on it.”
“These investments, they’re not based on insider knowledge.”
“No. They’re not.”
“Because I am required to alert the authorities if there is even a hint of illegality.”
“I have developed an algorithmic system of tracking stocks,” Colin said.
“The funds in your account …”
“All came from this system.”
“And you are concerned that the, let’s call them opponents, might catch wind of your reentering the market.”
“Exactly.”
“I have known Roland for over twenty years. And never have I heard him speak so highly of a young man.” Mateo nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, I will supply you with my private contact details. You may reach me day or night. And I give you my word, what we do here will go no further.”
Colin took a long breath. He had the sensation of standing on the high-dive platform, his toes gripping the edge. He dove. “So let’s get started.”
He told Arnold and Sandrine the following Sunday afternoon. They grilled steaks on their balcony, Celeste joining them as she had a couple of times before. Just the four of them. Easy in each other’s company, old friends.
When he finished relating his decisions, and the meeting with Mateo, Arnold declared, “I want in.”
Sandrine tched. “I assume there is a request imbedded in that command of yours.”
“It wasn’t a command,” Arnold replied. Smiling now. “More like a poor starving high school teacher down on bended knee.”
Sandrine said, “There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to begin.”
Colin said, “I’m not taking money. From anyone.”
Arnold made a face. “There go my hopes of ever buying you that yacht you’ve been wanting.”
“I never asked you for a boat,” Sandrine replied. “Not to mention how I almost got seasick standing on the Wrightsville pier in that storm last year.”
Colin went on, “The risk is too big. The thought of losing other people’s savings gives me nightmares.”
Celeste was the one who said, “I understand.”
“So do I,” Sandrine said. When Arnold did not speak, she elbowed him. Harder. “Tell him.”
“Can I complain a little longer?”
“No.”
Arnold heaved a mock sigh. “Okay, all right. But a guy can dream.”
She nudged him again, only she was smiling now. “You don’t watch out, you’ll be dreaming on the sofa tonight.”
“Another thing,” Colin said. “It’s time I start paying my own way. With the university. And my room and board. Everything. Actually, it’s past time.”
Arnold shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“Why not? I thought your donor, the CEO, would be delighted.”
Sandrine replied, “It’s a trust, Colin. The trust makes these decisions. We assume the lady herself knows. But we can’t say for certain.”
“The trust has committed to covering the cost of your education,” Arnold agreed. “Accept it and move on.”
When he looked ready to argue, Celeste said, “Wait until you’re done, then donate to the trust.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Sandrine said.
“Or directly to the school,” Arnold said.
“I don’t feel comfortable with that,” Sandrine said. “It might seem like we’ve been pestering him for money.”
Colin watched the argument flow back and forth, all three of the adults involved now. Talking about the most ethical way for him to remain involved with the academy. A future link that would last. Without damaging the personal side of their relationship.
Friends.