Words are caught in my throat. Her ultimatum has left me speechless.
Do I give in and 'flip the script'?
Do I step into the viper's pit?
Sloane
So this is what it all comes down to.
This is what I do. You're going to see me in action today. We’re going to make Dirty Lil’ Angels a giant fucking company.
All the paperwork is over. All the hoops jumped through.
I'm standing next to my Treasury Operations team. They sit next to the trading floor that takes up the majority of the Hard Times main floor. The Treasury folks control the money. They're in Finance, and without them we wouldn't know what kind of positions we're in during our trading day.
Let me put it to you another way.
Let's say that I have one hundred million dollars. And I invest it in a company that starts paying me back 10 million a month for twenty months. That means that at the end, I'll be getting back two hundred million dollars. But that's only over the course of twenty months.
So each month I get back ten million dollars.
So what am I doing with that cash? I'm gonna have to re-invest it. But I'm also going to have to pay regulatory fees and taxes. And I'm going to have to make sure that I have enough coming back to tide me over till the next ten million comes in from the first investment.
Now instead of just one investment, imagine this is for several hundred.
Right.
Blows your mind away, doesn't it? And that's why we have a Treasury ops department.
See, people like Drake, they're all flash and little substance. They make the big sales, close the big deals, and then they think the hard part is over. But the back office bean counters—the accountants—they're the ones who keep the fucking firm running.
Seriously, rule number fucking one on Wall Street should really be never to disparage the fucking back office. Because they will fucking make or break you.
Anyways, I really hope your eyes aren't glassing over at this point with my explanation.
I had to give you a little bit of a rundown so you could understand what I was doing sitting here.
Today's the day.
Today's the day that we're going to make the first $450 million dollar investment into Dirty Lil' Angels.
Take it from a cottage shop run out of Natalie's living room and Facebook and make it into one of the leaders in the sex toy appliance manufacturing. In the matter of six fucking months, they'll be the Apple or Samsung of fuck toys.
Treasury is going to be releasing the funds once my CFO approves it. There's a long chain of corporate governance here.
First my CFO has to approve the release of the funds to Treasury. That's when Treasury approves the payments to the bank. That's when our accounts with Carter Jeffries get funded. These accounts then flow into the bank accounts that have been set up for Dirty Lil' Angels. And then Natalie sees the money in those accounts, and it's when she knows she's been funded.
But when will our CFO approve the funds?
Only when he gets the green light from our bankers downtown that in the event of any catastrophic loss that doesn't include negligence that we have insurance and are hedged and covered for these investments.
See, it's our money, sure. But right now it's sitting in bank accounts that are insured by the Federal government. So if the bank ever goes bust, the Federal government pays for the deposits we have in there.
But once we move the money we need to make sure that the banks are willing to honor that insurance guarantee even if the entity name has been changed and the money sits in a Dirty Lil' Angels account instead of a Hard Times account. If we don't get the guarantee that the bank is willing to guarantee the deposit insurance of our funds, we're not moving shit.
So right now, all this comes down to a fucking waiting game.
Natalie has already signed all the relevant paperwork. She's dotted her i's and crossed her t's.