Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Well, when you make an impression like you did the other night, I knew that you wouldn’t be on the market for long,” he says. He smiles, but something about it feels off. “By the way, I talked with our HR department. You put in an application with our firm a year ago?”
“Yes,” I reply, reaching into my bag and taking out my updated resume. “I was in business school at the time and was looking for an internship.”
“But you weren’t interviewed,” Michael notes, taking my updated resume from me. “Would you like to make a guess as to why?”
“I know that a firm like this gets dozens, if not hundreds, of applications for every internship spot available. And while I was a top-notch student, with a 4.0 GPA and an impressive senior project portfolio…” I pause, letting those highlights sink in. “When you don’t have a prestigious name or a prestigious university name on your application, you’re banging on the door from the sidewalk. I assumed you received more applications with Yale or the Wharton School on them than you had opportunities.”
Michael hums, neither confirming nor denying my assumption as he gives my resume a cursory glance. “And you didn’t reach out here again why?”
The truth is that I’ve heard the rumors about this firm—their freshman interns and new hires are predominantly three things—white, male, and wealthy, so I focused my efforts on other firms who might be a better fit for me. That’s not what I tell Michael, of course. “I wasn’t aware you had a position available,” I reply. “But I think if you look at my portfolio numbers, you’ll see that I more than fit in on your team.”
Michael flips to my portfolio, lifting an eyebrow. “The dollar amounts are on the smaller side, but your margins are impressive. Better than some of my current managers, if I’m being honest.”
He absolutely just intentionally called me poor, but I’m taking the compliment on my margins because I worked hard for them and have the instincts to make them even better.
“The dollar amounts are low because I didn’t have a lot to work with as an intern,” I explain. “You know the old lyric, trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents?”
“I recall that back from my college days,” Michael says, and I feel a bit surprised that he gets the reference.
“I can make a dollar out of my fifteen cents. After our talk the other night, you know I can take ten grand and turn it into a hundred k, and take a hundred k and turn it into a million. That’s what I bring to your firm.”
“And of course, you’d take your percentage,” Michael says with a nod as he meets my gaze, but there’s respect in his comment. He knows how this works. The money-makers should make some money of their own.
“If I’m going to make this firm tens of millions of dollars a year, I think it’s fair that I can at least afford my own apartment in the city.” It’s not exactly a compensation package negotiation, but we’re both testing our expectations without spelling out ‘I want X percentage’ or ‘I’m offering Y salary.’ I add a small smile with the comment, and thankfully, it lands how I hoped it would.
Michael laughs. “I don’t know, with the way residential real estate’s been going around town, I heard a rumor that the Yankees are having their rookies double up on apartment rent in order to save some cash.”
Reading between the lines, he means don’t get your hopes too high.
“True, but the commercial market’s seen better days,” I point out. “A sharp person with the right connections could possibly look at rezoning and turning commercial space into residential space.” My return volley lets him know that I’m all too aware that he has the funds to pay so don’t lowball me.
“With the right connections,” Michael agrees, glancing down at my resume again and then looking back at me as if searching my expression for something. “Such as Dylan Sharpe?”
I tilt my head, acting as if this is an innocent question even though I hear the change in his tone loud and clear. “From what I know of Mr. Sharpe’s firm, he’s not deeply involved in that particular industry. Actually, many of his investments are located outside the city. What about this firm, though? The opportunity could be lucrative.”
“Opportunities are like fresh fruit, though,” Michael says. “Jump in too early, and you’ve got something sour that you’ve got to wait on. But you buy too late, and you’ve got a sticky, spoiled mess on your hands.”
“It’s a good thing this opportunity is being presented at the perfect time, then. Neither sour, nor a mess,” I say firmly. “Simply good, money-making investments.”
I’m doing my best to keep this meeting on track, without ruining my chances, but I’m getting the feeling Michael is meeting with me, not to hire me, but rather so he can garner favor with Dylan. Like this is a ‘favor’ he’s doing for him.