Alastair was a fat man, with a round and jolly face that was always pink. He was about 5' 9" and I towered over him. But he didn't let on that fact at all. Instead, he put me to work.
"You'll be assisting the currency traders who trade the LIBOR," he said to me as he walked me around. "You'll be paid on commissions from the profits your team makes."
Which means if we fucked up, I wouldn't get paid shit.
Bad time to let you know I only took $5,000 in cash and left all the credit cards at home?
Ten.
That's how many certification exams I had to study for during the last three months.
"You don't need a degree to trade currencies, Cody," Alastair told me one day as I was complaining about the tests. "But various governments will require that you study and pass those exams. They don't want financial chaos."
Sixteen.
That was the typical workday. Up at 6 am. At work by 7. Study for exams till 9. First trades start coming in at 9:01 am. Work like a fucking dog all day till 9 pm. Maybe find fifteen minutes to scarf down some lunch and some coffee. And then when the evening shift left at 9 pm, I had to stay an extra hour to clear up the day and get the platforms all ready for the next morning. Make sure all open trades were accounted for. No one else was working as hard as me.
Zero.
That's the number of times I complained. This is exactly what I needed. This is exactly what I wanted. I had to build street cred and I had to do it fucking fast. Because I couldn't stay in London forever. I had to take my FOREX exams - all ten of them and get back to New York. To be with fucking Kim.
One hundred.
That's the percentages of exams that I passed.
I know. You heard that right. Passed.
I mean, some were close. Don't get me wrong. But for the last three months, the number of books I've been hitting and the amount of time I've been spending studying has been more than at any point in my life.
I mean, I'm fucking intelligent if I try and apply myself, you know? It's just that in New York, I never had any incentive to. If you had asked me to study like this in New York, I would have told you to get the fuck out.
But then Kim came.
And all of a sudden I had a big fucking reason to get my shit together.
Seven.
That's how many hours I've been back in New York.
I dropped my bags in my apartment and came straight to Dad's office.
"I've been waiting for this day for a long time, Cody," he told me earlier today. "I'm proud of everything you've accomplished over the last three months, son. You did something not too many other people would be able to pull off. You turned your life around."
I nod. I'm wearing a conservative black suit as befits the surroundings.
"You'll be leading up one of the currency trading desks we have," Dad tells me as we walk through the trading floor later on that day towards his office. "I'm sure if you exhibit the same drive as you did the last three months, you'll be moving up soon enough."
I nod to him and get to work.
I know, I could probably take the day off considering I just started. But I want to get off on the right foot. Do a good job. And do better than anyone else.
To make Kim proud.
Four.
That's what time it is right now as I walk towards Dad's office. We have a meeting to go over first quarter goals.
I'm heading there when I see a familiar shape in his office.