Heads You Win

“It’s George Soros. He always gives me a share tip whenever he stays, and it usually doubles in value by the time he returns.”

“He’s a regular then?”

“He stays with us once a year, madam, just for the week. A chance to relax, somewhere no one will recognize him.”

“I won’t have a dessert tonight, Jacques,” she said. “And neither will my husband.”

Todd looked disappointed, because he always enjoyed the bitter chocolate roulade, but he knew that look.

“As you wish, madam,” said Jacques. As he passed the next table, he filled the guest’s glass with water, the sign that he had performed his role and was leaving the stage.

A few moments later, Todd got up and discreetly left the dining room. The diner at the next table turned a page of his paper, and continued reading. Evelyn stood up, pushing her chair back until it bumped into his.

“I’m so sorry,” she said as he turned around.

“Not at all,” he said, rising from his place and giving her a slight bow.

“Good heavens, are you who I think you are?”

“That would depend on who you want me to be,” he said, smiling warmly.

“Mr. Soros?”

“Then my cover is blown, madam.”

“Evelyn Lowell,” she said, returning his smile.

He bowed again. “I had the privilege of knowing your father,” he said. “A fine man, from whom I learned a great deal.”

“Yes, dear Papa. I wish he was still alive so I could seek his advice on a problem I have.”

“Perhaps I might be of assistance?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“My dear lady, it would be an honor to advise the daughter of James Lowell, and perhaps in some small way repay his kindness over the years. Please, join me,” he said, pulling back the chair next to his.

“How kind of you,” said Evelyn as she sat down.

“Jacques, a glass of champagne for the lady, and I’ll have my usual.” The maître d’ hurried away. “Now, how can I help, Ms. Lowell?”

“Evelyn, please.”

“George,” he said, as he sat back and allowed Evelyn to take her time telling him everything he already knew between sips of champagne, while he enjoyed a brandy.

“Not an uncommon problem when it comes to inheritance,” he said once she’d come to the end of her tale. “Especially when rival siblings are involved. It’s known as the fifty-fifty dilemma.”

“How interesting,” she said, hanging on his every word.

“There is a simple solution, of course.”

“And what might that be?”

“First, I must ask you, Evelyn, can you keep a secret?”

“Most certainly I can,” she said, placing a hand on his thigh.

“Because we’ll need to work closely together over the next few days, and I wouldn’t want anyone, and I mean anyone, to know the source of what I’m about to divulge, even your husband.”