Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Seventy-nine bid,” I tell Brian, dropping my hand from the receiver. Theo raises a single brow. Widening the offer is a flex; I’m essentially taking Theo’s offer to buy bonds at one hundred bucks and making it ninety-nine. But it gives the desk some price protection, and it will also show Theo that I’m as ballsy as he is. “I’ll take all twenty-four. I’m looking at the TRACE prints right now, and that level’s four bips through where bonds traded on Friday.”
Brian chuckles again. “Feeling aggressive this morning, huh? I like it.”
I grin. “Only the best for you, Brian. C’mon, make that early wake-up call worth it. Do this trade, and then you can take the rest of the day off to practice that swing with Colin.”
“If only,” Brian replies, and I hear the smile in his voice. “Knowing my luck, Wall Street Bathroom would catch wind of me playing hooky and I’d end up in trouble.”
“They do get good scoop, but pretty sure whoever’s behind that account has bigger fish to fry. No offense.”
“None taken. All right, this trade is done.”
“Let me check which treasury we’re using real quick.” I glance at Theo. “Are we pricing off the five or ten year?”
“Five.”
I turn my attention back to Brian. “We’re pricing off the five year.”
“Then you’re done. Let me know when you’re ready to spot.”
“Twenty-four million is done at seventy-nine,” I tell Theo, whose eyebrows pop up at the level. “We’re ready to spot treasuries when you are.”
George lets out a little holler just as Aiden appears at the end of our row. Our gazes catch and we both smile, and I make a show of turning back to Theo and saying, “Spot me.”
Theo bangs on his keyboard. “One-oh-one fifty-two.”
I relay the info to Brian, who tells me we’re done. “That’s done,” I say to Theo. “Twenty-four million FedEx thirties sold to you at seventy-nine. Ticket incoming.”
“I’ll look out for it. Thanks, Nora,” Brian says.
“No problem. Good luck with the golf.”
I hang up the call and give Nicky the fist bump he’s holding out to me before I sit back down to enter the ticket into our system.
“That was impressive,” Nicky says. “The size, the gamble with the basis point.”
Aiden strolls down the row, tucking his hands into the pockets of his expertly tailored trousers. He’s one of the few men on the floor who still shows up every day in a full suit.
“Impressive size? Tell me more,” Aiden says and comes to stand behind me. The citrusy scent of his cologne fills my head. My fingers go still on the keyboard as my veins ignite with memories as potent and delicious as a big glass of my favorite Burgundy—the kind Aiden bought by the case for our evenings in. He always treated me to the best.
Despite the shadow that moves across my excitement, I reply brightly, “Just popped our new trader’s cherry. First trade of the day is done.”
“Brilliant!”
“Y’all are counting our eggs before they’re hatched,” Theo growls from behind his screens. “We still have to sell these bonds if we want to make any money.”
My fingers start to move again, and I bang out the info needed to complete the trade ticket with extra emphasis, making my desk tremble. “Surely a big swinging dick like you knows that to make big money, you need to take big risks.”
“Surely you know what HR would think about you using lewd terminology to refer to a coworker,” Theo replies steadily.
I pound the enter key, sending the trade ticket into our system. “Maybe we should get HR involved. I’m curious to know what they’d say about your broom closet comment. As much as I’d love to be a Sanderson sister, I’m pretty sure implying a colleague is a witch is a legal no-no.”
“All right, you two,” Aiden says, but Theo scoffs, silencing him.
“You’re not cool enough to be a Sanderson sister,” Theo says. “I can’t picture you ever being okay with having to ride a vacuum cleaner, much less chase around a horny teenager and his talking cat.”
“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Brooks asks.
Nicky’s forehead is creased. “Yeah, y’all lost me at Sandy sister.”
I blink, heart skipping a beat. Hocus Pocus just happens to be one of my all-time favorite movies. Cheesy? Yes. Awesome? Definitely. The fact that Theo not only knows Hocus Pocus exists, but can also crack jokes about it—
I shove the thought from my head. Maybe he’s up on his late-nineties Disney flicks, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s most certainly a giant asshole who’s after the same managing director title I am.
“Are you saying I’m a snob?” I ask.
Theo shrugs, a nonchalant lifting of those massive, and massively distracting, shoulders. The impulse to reach over my screens and grab him by the collar is strong.