“We got our man,” Howard said, giving him nothing more on that.
He wouldn’t have expected anything different. Howard would be bound by a legal agreement not to discuss the matter.
“There’ll be a next time.”
“Probably not before your custody hearing.” Howard didn’t even blink.
“I don’t accept pity.”
“Not even for your little girl?”
He had him there, and Flint made a fast decision.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the offer. I’ll move back into my office this morning. Would you like to send word to my clients that I’m back from sabbatical or should I do that?” The question was a real one, and issued with sarcasm, too. He wasn’t dishing up a load of respect to the man.
“I’ll do it. I have a few things I’d like to say to them on your behalf. And then you do what you damned well please. You’re the best I have and I need you on board.”
Now, that made sense to Flint.
He nodded, got in his car and drove off.
* * *
Later that week Flint got a call from Howard Owens. Sitting at his desk, he picked up.
“I misjudged you,” the older man said.
“Yes.”
“In the numbers business, the money business, we play percentages.”
Flint more than Howard, and yet it was true.
“The percentages pointed at you,” Howard noted.
“Years’ worth of faithful and diligent service, coupled with high returns, don’t rate well with you?”
“Most of the traders on staff have that.”
Also true. “I’m your top earner.”
“You were making plans to leave.”
This conversation was going nowhere.
Or it had already arrived there.
He got Howard’s point in making the call.
“Thanks for getting in touch,” he said, his tone more amenable. He’d just received an explanation from Howard Owens. A collectible to be sure. Because of its rarity.
“I was wrong. I realize now that you were planning to do it right, Flint. I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”
Damn. The man must’ve seen his bottom line drop significantly over the week of Flint’s absence.
“Just glad to be back, sir,” he said, determined to get busy and earn his future job security.
Which was all Howard had to offer.