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"I want to clarify something," Benjamin said. “This conservative approach will only apply to those funds where it is most prudent, such as retention or income funds. It can't be an across-the-board tactic."
"Oh, great," Kevin Burke mumbled from his slouched position on the other side of the table. "Here we go."
Jewell didn't even acknowledge Burke's huff by glancing in his direction and didn't bother to translate his comments for Benjamin.
"Ben, the shareholders are worried. The Dow is taking more twists and turns than a thrill-ride rollercoaster. We need to take a step back and assuage their fears."
Benjamin shifted his stance. "Barry, that goes against the general principle of mutual fund investing, and a conservative approach contradicts a good portion of our fund objectives, specifically my team. We can't do that without a shareholder proxy vote.
"Every one of the funds I manage quotes an aggressive approach to international or global investing. It's the investors who have multiple holdings in U.S. companies who are concerned. The individuals invested in my funds are, by their very method of investing, taking an aggressive approach. If they have a diversified portfolio, they fully expect some funds to not perform as well. They expect funds like mine to pull their weight and bring up the average."
"If shareholders are concerned about capital loss, they are going to liquidate. We need to preserve our capital," Mr. Westmoreland pointed out.
"And if we don't perform, our top-tier investors are going to liquidate. Shareholders are going to liquidate one way or another. They'll get bad financial advice, or worse yet, no advice at all. Some will panic and some will exchange into bonds or money markets. Hell, some might just liquidate for a trip to Jamaica or the down payment on a house. But capital is going to leave. If we stay aggressive in the funds where it's called for, and come out at the top of the industry, we will not only retain shareholders, but we will gain new investors who are seeking proven growth histories with well established fund companies. Investors choose my funds exactly because they are aggressive, and if I back off on my investment strategies, they're going to leave because we aren't delivering the goods. Playing safe won't get us to the top."
"We need to reassure our investors—" Westmoreland tried to interject, but Benjamin continued.
"How much money came into Bulwark the first quarter after Smart Money named five of our funds as top performers in the industry? How much above projections?"
"I'm not sure, Ben, I don't have—" Westmoreland answered.
"Four-point-three billion. Two-point-seven billion more than projected. The last half of last year sucked. But we stayed aggressive where we needed to. We won over people who might have otherwise been lining up at the bank for CDs. They came to us because we didn't back down. We stayed honest. Why should we now reverse direction?"
"And B.P. Roth takes all the credit," Burke said louder this time, apparently not drawing enough attention the first time. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the biggest badass fund manager in all of Boston."
"Burke, that's enough," Westmoreland snapped, glaring at the other fund manager for a brief moment before turning back to Benjamin. His lips formed a tight line beneath the short mustache. "I think we should continue this discussion offline."
Taking that as their cue, the other managers in attendance stood and gathered their notes to leave. Mr. Burke tried to engage one or two other fund managers in conversation. Jewell fought her smile when she saw each of the other managers scowl and step away from him, avoiding his caustic diatribe.
Benjamin stood in his place, his hands deep in the pockets of his slacks. His face was set and he made no move to exit with everyone else. Jewell didn't stand, but remained in her chair by Benjamin's side. She folded her hands and waited.
The two men faced off over the expanse of the table. The tension in the room was tangible and crackled like electricity. The difference in management views between the two was no secret. Jewell had heard other executive assistants discussing the difference of opinion between the men. That, coupled with the strong wills of each man, made for clashes of ego. Westmoreland knew how to run a company, and Benjamin knew how to run a fund. Both men were good at what they did, but that didn't always mean they saw the same solution to the same problem.
Benjamin reached back and touched her shoulder briefly before signing. "Jewell, go back to the office. I'll be there in a while."
Benjamin didn't look down as he signed, his stare holding on Westmoreland. Jewell nodded and stood. The motion brought her body within a breath of his. She wanted to touch his hand or brush his arm as a sign of support but didn't dare. Enough rumors were floating about without adding to them.
As Jewell reached the door, Barry Westmoreland rounded the table and headed for Benjamin. He threw down his presentation folder and planted his fists at his nonexistent waist.
"What the hell was that, Roth? How dare you?—"
The closing of the heavy wood door shut Mr. Westmoreland's voice off mid-sentence. Jewell paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. She knew there was nothing she could do to help him. Benjamin didn't need her help, or anyone else's. Nonetheless, her heart ached and she wanted to stand beside him. With a sigh, she dropped her hand and turned down the hall.
April was away from her desk when Jewell reached their office. With a glance at her watch, she realized the woman was probably out for lunch. It quickly approached one o'clock, and Jewell's stomach grumbled in a nasty reminder her lunch sat on the kitchen counter at home. She could just go down to the company cafeteria, but couldn't quite bring herself to pay $15.95 for a tuna melt. Maybe she could convince Benjamin to step out for something before they had to be back for market close. After all, it was Friday.
She smiled as she went into Benjamin's office and sank onto the leather couch near his bookshelf. Tonight was their dinner date, the first time they'd spend some time together that wasn't in the office, near the office, or surrounded by people from the office. The idea made her stomach flutter and her pulse jump. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and blew it out through pursed lips. She looked around the office, eventually focusing on his desk. Memories danced in her thoughts and Jewell's pulse sped up with a jolt. She took a deep breath. Just looking at the desk brought an erotic rush to her bloodstream.
Three days had passed since the kiss. It was the most powerful, arousing, fireworks-going-off-and-melt-your-toes kiss Jewell had ever experienced. Followed by the sweetest, most tender kiss…the kiss he asked permission to give.
Neither had spoken of it since then, and he hadn't kissed her again, but his hand skimmed her arm and his gaze held on her enough for her to know none of it was far from his mind. Benjamin seemed distracted Wednesday morning, distant and not very talkative, but whenever she drew his attention away from his thoughts he smiled, and she pushed aside concerns that she was the cause of his distance. He didn't say what was wrong and Jewell didn't ask. Two kisses certainly didn't give her the freedom to pry into things he might or might not want to share. No matter how much she worried, she kept it to herself.
With a shake of her head, Jewell opened the portfolio she'd brought back from the meeting. Clicking out the lead of her pencil, she made some notes to be integrated into her next report. She still sat on the couch when he returned. The door swung open quickly as he entered. With his hand on the knob, Benjamin quickly searched the room and stopped when his eyes fell on her. She smiled at him and raised her hand in greeting as he shut the door. He walked across the floor, his hands deep in his front pockets, and fell onto the couch beside her. She laughed at the theatrical force of the fall. Benjamin slouched and rested his head on the back of the couch, his arm over his eyes.
She let him relax several minutes, listening to the deep resonance of his breathing, before nudging his knee.
He looked at her from beneath a slightly lifted arm. Benjamin's slow, disarming smile created a sweet flutter in Jewell's chest.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
