Steve leaned back in his swivel chair trying to look casual while he watched Jeannie and Jimmy in his peripheral vision. He wondered if she'd tell him about them. She probably would. He sensed Jimmy would take her back even so. He seemed the sort. Meanwhile Kate would make no mention of the guy who'd answered their home phone. If confronted, she'd insist Steve had called the wrong number, regardless of it being programmed into his cell. So why bother. Ultimately there was only one thing Steve really cared about.
"Hey," he called over to Le Bon, having overheard Jimmy ask the exact same question.
May as well be blunt. "So what happens to that money?"
"Returned to the rightful owners, of course," Le Bon said in his typical deadpan manner.
Steve had trouble believing him. It was the way he quirked his brow as he said of course.
"You have margin account, no?"
Steve almost leapt out of his skin at the sound of Yushenko behind him. He turned around to look up at the fat Russian man, dressed in an off-the-rack suit instead of his usual Bespoke. He was smiling, a twinkle in his eye like Santa Claus. "Short my company. Press release go out day after option expiry."
Third week of the month coming up already, he thought. Yushenko bent lower and leaned his hand on Steven's shoulder for balance. "You start with position of hundred thousand, you make maybe not your ten million, but at least a few," he rasped. Steve noticed the others had moved to where they were out of earshot.
"So you really are going down," Steve said, confused.
"Of course not. Only my company. The one all those crooks last night at my table own shares in. The one they just succeeded in, how you say ... hostile takeover. Monday I am off the board and no longer Chairman or CEO. Only I injected, secret poison pill. The company will go and I will stay. Those shares by Friday? They will be worth at most one dollar. I knew what was coming. I always do. I am always prepared."
And that umbrella company had been trading at over a hundred and fifty, last time Steve had looked. "Any chance of a last minute spike before then?"
Yushenko grasped his shoulder. "Do not get greedy, Steven."
He nodded, properly chided, remembering one of the most important sayings in the business: Pigs Get Slaughtered. Yushenko left to go confer with Rebecca.
On Monday morning first thing he'd move a hundred large into his trading account and spend the week slowly buying up put options. Not too many at any given time, not enough to trip up any algos. Steve glanced over at Jeannie and Jimmy. They did look cute together. Both would be as flat broke on Monday as they were yesterday. He doubted either of them had much more than a bank account with enough to cover their bills.
Meanwhile Yushenko had just handed him a lottery ticket. He wouldn't be overly generous; enough to help the pair of them get back on their feet again. If these options went through, he'd give them the amount he'd put in for his trade. That's what he'd do. Like back when he shorted Enron stock, he was set to reap a bigger windfall than he knew what to do with. Only this time, he'd put most of it aside instead of blowing it stupidly. And he'd share. He watched, feeling warm inside, as the two of them held hands.