Rigged Read Free Page B

gave it a cursory shake, his grin deepening.
    “I caught the tail end of your little speech earlier tonight from out in the hallway. You’ve got an interesting story, kid.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Giovanni,” David blurted, his face flushed. He couldn’t believe he was standing there, talking to one of the most powerful men in the country. He didn’t want to fuck up the opportunity with too many words, but at the same time he could feel a million responses rising in his chest. He had never been that good at controlling what came out of his mouth in times of high pressure. But for the moment, he managed to keep it simple. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
    Giovanni cocked his head to the side.
    “Oxford. Harvard. Couldn’t have gotten any farther away from Brooklyn if you’d hopped a boat to China.”
    David wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to laugh, or whether Giovanni was being serious. David could see that most of the other guests at Giovanni’s table were now listening to their conversation. David swallowed back a sudden burst of fear, doing his best not to topple over.
    “Boston’s not that far,” he blurted. “There’s a bus from the Port Authority every two hours.”
    “Hah,” Giovanni grunted. The smile didn’t change, so Davidhad no read on what Giovanni thought of his answer. “So what are you doing now?”
    David was almost embarrassed to answer truthfully.
    “I start with Merrill Lynch on Monday.”
    “Merrill Lynch? Why the fuck do you want to work there?”
    The truth was, Merrill hadn’t exactly been David’s first choice. Unfortunately, he had graduated from business school in one of the worst years in MBA history. Where two years ago, kids were getting ten or eleven offers months before graduation, David’s classmates were lucky to find one or two by the end of the school year. Although 9/11 was already a year old, the tragedy had killed the financial job market; there were signs that things were on the mend, but in the meantime, David had been forced to take the best job he was offered. Now he was looking forward to pushing paper around, compiling statistics, and cold-calling clients for a year or two as he tried to get his foot in the door somewhere else. But at least Merrill paid well. It wasn’t the optimal situation, but it was a start.
    “I like photocopy machines,” David responded. “And making coffee. I’m really good at making coffee.”
    David knew that he was taking a chance, letting the thoughts come out as words without much interference. But he wanted to make some sort of impression at least, and he seemed to be succeeding. Giovanni was really looking at him now, that smile still firmly fixed on his handsome face.
    “What are you afraid of, kid? What really scares you?”
    It was an odd question, and David didn’t know how he was supposed to answer. He could feel the rest of the table’s attention on him, all those super-rich and super-powerful Italians watching him stew. Well, fuck it, he thought to himself. I’ve been honest so far. No reason to change tack midsail.
    “Bears.”
    David regretted the answer the minute it left his lips. Bears? What the fuck did that mean? But it was too late to take it back. Giovanni’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Then he crossed his arms against his chest.
    “You’re a real smart-ass, aren’t you?”
    David felt the heat rising in his cheeks. The conversation was not going well. Had he already screwed up his chance of getting in good with his idol, just minutes after meeting him? He wished Serena had been nearby to deck him before he’d let it go in this direction. But he was on his own.
    “I try to be more smart than ass,” he said, in the way of a quick apology, “but sometimes they seem to blend together.”
    Giovanni was smiling fully now, and David felt some of the pressure release. Maybe honesty had been the right choice all along. Giovanni was a god, to be sure, but he was also an Italian from