<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>"No... no that's. Calm down. That's Carl speaking. Carl gets... emotional when the market swings. Trust me, Val... that thing is going to plummet. You'll be glad you're out. What do you mean 'how do I know'... ok look, we've been through this up and down. Remember the last time you panicked? What did I do? I walked you through it... didn't I? Yes. And when we agreed you were going to panic again, what did I say I'd do? That's right... I said I'd remind you of the last 3 times you panicked, and I'd hang up. So... here I go... alright?"</em></span><br/><br/>Olivia slowed her pace... the client on the other end of her call was a known panicky pamela. She seemed to play the stock market out of obligation, but she was one of those living-room chair experts. She listened to this analyst, and she felt great. She listened to that analyst, and then oh god... the world was ending. Then she listened to another analyst 15 minutes later, and she wanted to be in this position... until the next analyst after that had her wanting to be somewhere else. It took some discipline to play the stock market and people like Val were precisely the reason that firms made a killing offering whatever stability they could.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://media.giphy.com/media/EFeEGogg8LHq0/giphy.gif)</div>Olivia hated voicing her own inside knowledge, but it seemed like the thing Val needed to hear right now. So with a brief shake of her head... and a huff of her breath, she sighed.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">"Look Val... I'm going to go over this with you later tonight. I have a few things to do today, but for now, just follow me on this, ok? Simmons was behind the Artico trade. That trade went down at 12:41pm last week. That tells me he wanted most people to miss it. And they did. He's got a minor interest share in 3 of the 4 firms that are sharing this buyout. It sounds complicated, I know... but to simplify it for you. He made the story, he spread the story, he's out of the position. That means you need to be out of the position. I promise you. Short that stock... you'll be so glad you did... and I will want the world's biggest thank you from you when I see you again. Okay? Trust me on this one dear... I haven't steered you wrong before. Now... I really... <span class="bbc_u">really</span> have to go-!"</span><br/><br/><em>*click*</em><br/><br/>Olivia huffed, letting out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding having gone through her winded talk-down of the client on the phone. She ran her hands down her elegant red dress... took in a breath, put on a smile again to acclimatize her cheeks to the feeling, and with that... she entered the room. So this was the Bennington Club? Not bad... not bad at all.<br/><br/>Olivia glanced around... looking to hone in on the person she was meeting. Peter was the name she was familiar with. He seemed to be the money man by all accounts. For Olivia... the interest in the CGDA was the impressive young talent they stocked in their beautiful women... but financially, it seemed Peter was the one who pulled the strings. That is... unless she was ill informed. It was like investing in a mom and pop store sometimes, the way these companies worked. Normally... Olivia was an expert at figuring out a hierarchy, working people against each other, and backing those with ambition, those in a position of power, to see them fulfill her desires. In other cases... smaller businesses could be more complex. People had their relationships, people listened to each other differently, and figuring out who had the influence was quite difficult.<br/><br/>All the same... professional and courteous to a 't' ... she approached the bar.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><em>"Mr Warcaof... Olivia Walters. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."</em></span>The woman beside him... Olivia found herself perplexed by. Talk about a beauty. The thing was... she hadn't had any intel on this one. God... how she hated walking into a room without knowing everything important about the person she was meeting. Well... odds were she'd have a chance to rectify that, assuming an introduction might be made.<br/><br/>One of Olivia's thoughts was that this might be an agent, someone to walk around with Mr Warcaof and make sure he was fine. Olivia herself had an escort on occasion that she'd have in the vicinity incase a meeting ever went poorly. You could never underestimate the value of having a trusted confidant at your side.