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Tristan is scarce over the next two days, which is curious. He leaves before Flip wakes, and returns in the evening, grabs food, and disappears into his room for the rest of the night. At first, I thought he was in avoidance mode. When I asked Flip if everything was okay, he said Nate was down for a visit and Brody had a hockey game, so he was spending time with family. I don’t want to find that sweet, but I do. Also, my ego prefers the avoidance option.
I catch Flip between hockey practice and one of his many dates and sit him down to go over his bank statements before my interview.
“All these small withdrawals? What are they for?” I tap the yellow-highlighted expenses, most ranging from twenty to fifty dollars, but occasionally there’s one for a hundred or two hundred bucks. This week he made a thousand-dollar withdrawal and gave me eight hundred to cover groceries.
He inspects the list and runs his fingers through his hair. “That’s bar money.”
“Are there other expenses on your credit card, too?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not typically. I usually pay cash at the bar.”
“And you only spend between twenty and fifty dollars a night?” I confirm.
He nods. “Yeah. I only ever drink one beer and then switch to water. Sometimes it’s my turn to buy a round, so those are the nights when it’s more expensive, or I’ll buy someone a drink. But I don’t bring wasted women home, and I don’t get wasted if the plan is to find a hookup, which it usually is.”
“You only have one drink?” I parrot.
He gives me a look. “Bars are expensive, and getting drunk is a bad idea if I want some action.”
“Right. Okay. That makes sense.” In some ways, I suppose it’s better that he’s sober when he’s bringing all these women home. But the fact that he’s totally clear-headed when he makes these choices is also unexpected. I file that one away to think about later. Or not. “Okay, I’ll add up your monthly bar expenses and everything else and tailor a better plan for you.”
“Cool. I gotta meet with my agent this afternoon, but text if you have questions.” He leaves me to my job-interview prep.
Yesterday, I spent a few hours with Hemi going over mock interview questions, so I feel more prepared. It takes most of today to come up with a new plan for Flip and turn it into a dynamic presentation, but by the time I’m done, I have projected investment-revenue streams spanning one, three, and five years based on his current annual salary.
Flip and Tristan don’t come back until late, which means I don’t have to deal with them before bed. Hopefully by next week I’ll be gainfully employed again and I can start the apartment-hunting mission.
The following afternoon, I head to my interview at Dean and Sons. I’m nervous, but Hemi has assured me I have this in the bag. Graduating at the top of my class doesn’t hurt, and neither does her recommendation. Then there’s having a brother who plays pro hockey and lets me comb through his financial portfolio.
All those negligible amounts he spends at the bar add up, but it’s certainly within what he can afford. And he further ensures that by living with his best friend in a much cheaper condo than he could reasonably pay for each month. My goal for Flip is to maximize his current investments, so he doesn’t have to continue to live in fear of all his earnings disappearing and he’ll know his lifestyle is secure even after he retires from hockey.
Dean and Sons is in a gorgeous, modern building with a great team and friendly, dynamic staff. I’m one of several candidates for two positions, and I have another interview set up for a lower-level position with a different firm early next week, in case this doesn’t go the way I hope.
But they whisk me inside, and then it’s all happening, and the interview goes incredibly smoothly. They love the financial-plan revisions I made for my brother—the way I consider his travel schedule and condo fees versus property management expenses for a house with a yard. I provide a budget for each option, along with the pros and cons of each. By the end, we’re all laughing about creative accounting techniques for professional athletes and what expenses need the most massaging.
I text Hemi as soon as I leave the interview.
She calls me a few seconds later. “Where are you right now?”
“Just leaving Dean and Sons, heading for the subway.”
“I’m a block away. Want to meet for a drink? You can tell me about it in three dimensions?”
“Are you sure you have time?” I ask.
“Yup. I just finished making Dallas’s life miserable, and I need to celebrate. There’s a martini bar called The Dirty Olive on the corner of Church and Yonge. Meet us there in ten?”
