Chapter 17 — Stress

_October 11, 1983, Kenosha, Wisconsin_

{psc} On Tuesday, I went to the office to write my daily report, and at 9:00am, I left for my appointment in Kenosha, where I'd present to the police and firefighters' unions, then have lunch with the union leaders. I met Chris Roth, the pension manager who handled both unions' accounts in his office.

"You'll be meeting with the union leadership of both unions," he said. "In addition, the Police Chief and Fire Chief will be in attendance. They don't have a vote, but their influence could easily affect the unions' decision. Someone is sure to raise your age as a concern."

I nodded, "I've answered those questions several times, and my response is that I hold two securities licenses and have about a hundred million in assets under management, with a projected annual return of just over 30%. Obviously, I can't guarantee that, but I will happily provide a list of trades in addition to the prospectus."

"How did you achieve that return in your first year?"

"My main job is as an analyst, and together with some other analysts, we developed proprietary computer programs to help analyze currencies and national economies. I obviously can't disclose the formulas we use, but I can say we are innovative, and our innovation in data analysis helps us stay a step ahead of other firms."

"Won't they figure it out, too?"

"Yes, they will; our advantage is having the strongest research team in the industry, and having Noel Spurgeon leading the firm gives us advantages a larger company does not have, including agility and speed to act."

"My counterpart in Overland Park sang your praises. The chiefs will certainly speak to their counterparts as well."

"I'm not at all concerned about that," I said. "I think the numbers speak for themselves, especially when combined with Spurgeon Capital's track record and reputation. There is nobody better on Wall Street. Of course, as our prospectus says, and we are required to remind you, past performance is not a guarantee of future performance. That said, I believe my investment strategy will continue to be successful, including in a down market."

"I'm curious about that. How do you make money in a down market? Usually, we look to move to bonds or Treasuries."

"Which made perfect sense once Volcker ratcheted up interest rates. My strategy in a down market is to find counter-cyclical investments, be they currencies, precious metals, or securities, and use a range of trading tools to produce market-beating returns, both in an up or down market. In addition, with the hurdle set at 8%, I have a strong incentive to beat that! And I believe I will. I can't tell you upfront exactly what I will do because it's highly dependent on market conditions."

"What are the minimums for individuals?"

"A hundred grand," I replied. "And that needs to be investible assets because there is a one-year lockup period."

"There won't be many individuals with that much to invest," he said.

"For anyone with less, a no-load S&P fund would be their best bet. It'll return the market rate minus fees and expenses. It has similar risks to investing with me, but because it maintains a ratio of investments that matches the S&P 500, you get the dogs with the outstanding performers. You pay me two and twenty to avoid the dogs."

"You'll need to explain that to the union leaders and be prepared for some pushback."

I nodded, "I understand."

I took the opportunity to use the restroom, then got a glass of ice water. We walked to the conference room where I'd make my presentation. Chris introduced the ten people in the room, and I repeated their names silently to help me recall them. Once the introductions were complete, I began my presentation, which lasted fourteen minutes, just over the guideline that after twelve, you began to lose the attention of the audience.

"Any questions?"

"Let me get this straight," Bill Fowler, a firefighters' union rep, said, "You skim 2% of the money we give you, then take 20% of the profits?"

"20% of the profits over the hurdle rate of 8%. In the packets I've handed out, there is a printout of a spreadsheet that provides a concrete example. If you would take that out, I'll go over it."

They did as I'd asked.

"As you can see, it assumes you have $100,000 to invest, which means you would be charged $2000 the first year by Spurgeon to manage the fund, no matter how well or how poorly the fund performs. That money is deducted from your investment, beginning with the initial investment and then each year following.

"As you can see, with a hurdle of 8%, Spurgeon Capital retains 20% of the annual gains in excess of 8%, after the fund is 'marked to market', that is, the value is calculated at the closing price on a fixed date. If we can't 'beat the street', as it's called, we make no profit, as the 2% management fee covers expenses, including salaries, leases, and equipment, as well as trading fees.

"Putting real numbers behind it, if we use Spurgeon's annualized return last year across all funds of 32%, if you invested $100,000, the value of your investment at the end of the year would be about $130,000, after allowing for the 2% management. Of the $30,000 growth, the first $2400 or so is yours, free and clear. Of the remaining $27,600 profit, about $5500 would be retained by Spurgeon, yielding around $22,000 in gains, for a net total gain of $25,000, or 25%. That's about double the return you'd earn in a Dow or S&P fund, assuming typical annualized returns.

"And that difference adds up. The 'Rule of 72' says that you divide 72 by the rate of return using the hurdle rate, which is 8%. The result shows that your money doubles roughly every nine years. Let's make it ten to allow for the fees, and that means your money doubles five times — $200,000 in ten years, $400,000 in twenty years, $800,000 in thirty years, and $1.6 million in forty years. And that's if I only make the hurdle rate or slightly above.

"Now, consider a return of 20%. The way to calculate the length of time it takes to double is a bit different but works out to about four years. In other words, you would double your money two and a half times over each ten-year period. In thirty-two years, your that hundred grand would be worth something on the order of $12 million after accounting for our fees. Those calculations are in Table 2 on the same page."

"And you can do this every single year?" Al Crowe asked.

"That's the goal, yes. I can't guarantee it, but I have a vested interest in beating the hurdle rate, which is slightly more than the long-term Dow Industrial annual gain. I only make money if I do that. In addition, my money is right next to yours. All of my investable funds are in either the Cincinnatus Fund or the Spurgeon Select Fund.

"Those funds have different trading parameters, with the Cincinnatus Fund being more conservative. I use a set of strategies that trades a small portion of potential gains for protection from losses. It's not perfect, of course, but it ensures that I can unwind a bad position with as little harm as possible. Given this is pension money, you want that slightly lower return in exchange for significantly lower risk. Not no risk, mind you, but lower."

"Yes or no," Jack Colton said. "We could lose all of our money."

"Yes. Just as you could in your current investment portfolio. Granted, it's mostly in treasuries and bonds, but with interest rates trending down, those bonds are going to be called and replaced with ones which pay less, and no matter how highly rated they are, there is always a risk of default.

"As for Treasuries, those are as safe an investment as you can find, but they have no real upside in terms of capital gains, and every new treasury you buy yields less than the previous one. In general, in the long run, you'll barely keep up with inflation with that strategy; I do use government securities to generate income to prevent forced liquidation for redemptions or pension fund payouts. And they provide a firm base for the remainder of my trading without interfering with my total gains in a significant way."

"I have to ask," Chief Brock said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty," I replied. "I've been working for Spurgeon for two years, and as Mr. Roth said when he introduced me, I hold two securities licenses and am working towards a third. The two licenses I have allow me to broker anything other than real estate and insurance, though I can purchase those products for my fund. The license I'm working on will allow me to manage other licensed individuals. What Mr. Roth didn't mention is that I'm the youngest double-licensed professional at Spurgeon, and I oversee all firm research."

"Were you one of those prodigies who went to college at sixteen?"

"No. I have a High School Diploma, and I'm taking night classes at the University of Illinois Chicago Circle campus. Degrees aren't required for my job; being an expert analyst is. And I am an expert analyst, as my track record clearly demonstrates."

"That's some serious chutzpah!" Josh Green, a police captain, said.

"Not to be impertinent, but the numbers back that up. And the value of my youth is that I have new ideas and new ways of looking at things. One of our major innovations is using personal computers to aid us in our analysis and modeling, and we're the first firm of our size to actively employ full-time data analysts. I helped develop the first spreadsheets and models, then turned that work over to a computer expert because I have to focus on the markets."

"In your packet is a daily analyst report I wrote about four months ago. My team produces a comprehensive report across all sectors and investment vehicles, along with a 'state of the world' analysis, which you see in the sample report I provided. A small portion of the report has been redacted to protect Spurgeon's trade secrets, but you can see the quality of my analysis."

There were a few more questions, mainly about the details of the spreadsheets I had provided, and I reviewed the math in more detail, ending about forty-five minutes after I'd begun. We had lunch together, then I headed back to Chicago, reasonably confident I had another $5 million in the bag.

_October 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

"How did it go?" Murray Matheson asked when I stopped in his office just after returning to the Hancock Center.

"I'm reasonably confident I have them," I said. "The pension fund manager said he expected a decision from the two boards by the end of the month."

"Good. How are things working with the researchers?"

'OK. We'll gel once we're all in the same area. Right now, with everyone spread around, collaboration is limited. But the reports are being distributed, and the quality has improved from before the change."

"That's good. Shut the door."

I did as he instructed.

"Nothing will come of this, but Enderlee flagged you to the SEC for insider trading and front-running."

"Seriously?!" I asked, suddenly nervous, which I was sure showed.

"Seriously," Mr. Matheson said. "Don't sweat it. You document things better than anyone here, and your analysis will hold up. Compliance sent them your trades and your analyst reports. You are squeaky clean. Hell, they might not even bother to interview you."

"So what happens to him?"

"They'll treat it as a whistleblower who had bad information. It won't hurt him with the SEC or the CFTC. That said, you can imagine Noel Spurgeon's reaction."

"Enderlee is now toxic and will be lucky to find a job flipping burgers."

"And his funds will remain locked up for the entire redemption period."

That meant he couldn't have them for a year. And that was all part of the employee handbook and had been expressly noted in my employment contract, which I had signed and agreed to. And I was sure that was the case for everyone else.

"Ouch," I replied. "That's going to hurt."

"It will. One does not cross Noel Spurgeon without paying the price."

"No kidding."

And that right there was a reason that despite some people pushing me to think about starting my own firm, Noel Spurgeon could block it and ruin me. It also meant I needed to have sufficient resources outside Spurgeon so that if something terrible happened, I wasn't completely screwed. The income-producing properties would help, as would the savings account I was building. In my mind, I needed to have enough liquidity to survive the entire one-year lockup period.

And that was why Enderlee was so severely screwed. He, like many of the traders, was cash-poor, and he lived above his current means based on his trading record over the past year. He could, in theory, lose everything if he didn't have sufficient assets outside of Spurgeon, which I suspected he did not.

"Just keep doing your job, Kane. This will blow over, and Noel took it personally because it impugns the whole firm. You were just a target of opportunity for a disgruntled ex-employee. Dismissed."

I left his office and returned to my desk to review the day's reports, once again making notes about format improvements and content I thought could be improved or added. Just after 3:00pm, I left the office and headed home to spend time with Keiko before class.

"Doctor Morrison called," she said after her grandmother left. "My blast count is 8%, which fits with the circumstances. What will matter is the next test, which will be done on the 31st."

"What about the rest of the numbers?"

"My white count is elevated, as expected. He prescribed an oral antibiotic to see if it has any effect and also to help with any secondary infection that I might have. Jennifer will pick it up on her way here tomorrow."

"What did you say to your grandmother?"

"Just that the tests showed no real change. I wanted to talk to you before I said anything."

"You tell me what you want to do," I said.

"I think we wait until the next tests or something else changes."

"That's fine."

"I received a call from Loyola, and they'll allow me to enroll in the correspondence courses they have that are used for prisoners. What do you think?"

"My first response is that it's up to you, but I know you want my opinion, so I'll say you should do it. It gives you something productive to do, and if things don't go the way we're expecting, you'll have those credits."

Keiko smiled, "Always the optimist."

"I don't know if that's the case, but I'm not a defeatist."

"You do always look for the positive outcome in every situation."

"And do my best to protect against the negative outcomes. Unfortunately, sometimes there is no way to do that."

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

"Neither is it yours," I said. "It's one of those random things that happen, and all we can ever do is deal with them as best we can."

"How did your meeting go today?"

"I'm reasonably confident they'll come onboard. It's a smaller deal than the trust funds that are coming on board, but every bit counts. Oh, and today there was an object lesson about what happens if you cross Noel Spurgeon."

"Oh?"

"The trader I told you about, Enderlee? In addition to being fired, Mr. Spurgeon is going to hold all of his investments for the entire one-year lockup period. Enderlee is basically screwed, as he's one of those people who was living right up to his income, and by that I mean previous years’. He was having a bad year, so his income was far less, and now he can't touch his money for a year. Add in the fact that he'll never get a job in the industry, and he's likely to lose his house if he doesn't have enough money outside Spurgeon."

"Whoa!"

"Yeah, and that confirms my plans to buy income-generating properties and to plow as much cash into savings as possible so we have at least a year of expenses available. That would take us past any lockup period."

"So there's no way you could go, then?"

"If my investors came with me, it would just be my money that was locked up. But obviously, all of this means leaving isn't something to contemplate doing casually, and not even in a considered way unless things were untenable _and_ I was positive I could make it work and had written commitments from my investors. Even then, I feel I'd have to negotiate, and Noel Spurgeon would be in a position of strength and would know he had the ability to crush me."

"It almost sounds like you're being held hostage."

I chuckled, "Because I am being held hostage! But it's a pretty nice captivity, wouldn't you say? And remember, I can leave anytime, and within a year, have all my money, minus what hasn't vested. I can find something else to do at that point because so long as I don't screw over Mr. Spurgeon or try to go to another firm, he won't blackball me. There are no bars on the prison, and I can walk away."

"Would you?"

"If I had a good enough reason, yes. And before you ask, I have no idea what that might be! I do need to eat so I can leave for class when Bianca arrives home."

We went to the kitchen, and I ate leftovers, and when Bianca came into the house, I kissed Keiko and headed to class.

_October 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_

The closing on my properties was set for 10:00am on Friday, and I arrived ten minutes early at Chicago Title. Nelson met me there and verified I had the necessary documents from Goldman, as well as a cashier's check in the proper amount. I confirmed I did and refrained from pointing out he'd asked me those questions when I'd called him on Thursday morning after Chicago Title had provided the amount for the check.

"Mr. Kane?" the receptionist said right at 10:00am. "I'm sorry, but the team is running behind."

"How far behind?" I asked.

"They didn't say, but I'd expect at least thirty minutes."

I was supremely annoyed, as they had to have known they were delayed before I had made the eight-minute walk to their office. I picked up a copy of _US News & World Report_ from the table and thumbed through it while Nelson read legal briefs. At 10:40am, we still hadn't been called.

"Excuse me," I said to the receptionist, "but it's forty minutes past my appointment time. How long is it going to be?"

"I can ask," she replied.

"Please do."

She made a call, asked the question, then replaced the handset in the cradle.

"They aren't sure. There was some kind of problem with the documents they're trying to sort out."

"Excuse me, but if _that's_ the case, they should have known that yesterday, but someone called to confirm they had all the documents and that everything was in order."

"I don't know what to say," she said.

I went back to sit down, and Nelson leaned over.

"This is not uncommon," he said quietly. "They don't actually put everything together until right before the closing."

"Why? They've had everything for weeks!"

"Because they can," he said. "They have you over a barrel, and they know you can't walk, and they also are effectively immune to any lawsuits."

"That's BS," I said quietly.

"If you're going to make a stink, do it _after_ the closing. If you do it now, they'll decide something isn't right and give you a date in a week or two."

"If I did business that way, I'd be out on the street!"

"Me, too," Nelson commiserated.

We were finally called at 10:55am, nearly an hour after the appointment. I followed Nelson's advice and said nothing about the delay, while the closing officer handed documents to Nelson, who confirmed them and then handed them to me to sign. After signing my name about two dozen times, I handed over the cashier's check and, in return, received three sets of master keys for each building. Once I had those safely in my hands, I could speak my mind.

"I intend to have my attorney bill you for an hour of his time," I said. "And I intend to press to collect that amount in full."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I said. "You were nearly an hour late after confirming by phone and fax that all of the documents were in order. If that was true at 10:30am yesterday, it was true at 10:00am today. If it _wasn't_ true at 10:30am yesterday, then you lied to me. In addition, given you were an hour late, you had to know this morning, with sufficient time to notify us, that you were running late. Instead, you wasted an hour of my time and of my attorney's time. I can't bill you for mine, but Mr. Burke _will_ invoice you for a full hour of his time."

"You'll never make it stick."

"Try me," I said flatly. "Do you know what wire fraud is?"

"What?!"

"You lied over the phone and via fax and induced me to act on information you knew to be false."

"Jonathan…" Nelson warned, though he had a slight smile on his face.

"I'm simply repeating what I was taught in my securities class — if I made a misrepresentation via telephone, telex, or fax, it was considered wire fraud. If they don't pay your invoice, I will lodge a complaint with the FBI and US Attorney."

I had a tough time keeping a straight face because the closer, who was probably only a few years older than I was, turned pale and looked like he might toss his cookies on the table.

"I, uhm, need to talk to someone. Wait here, please."

He got up and left.

"You'll never make it stick," Nelson said quietly. "The Feds won't act on something like this."

"I suspect that's the case, but I put the fear of God into him."

"Trust me, it won't help. Sure, he's panicked, but I have fifty bucks in my pocket that says his manager comes in and politely, or perhaps even impolitely, tells you to pound sand. I'm positive they'll be able to point to something 'beyond their control' that was only discovered a minute before we arrived, even if they have to gin up the cause."

"Then Plan B," I replied. "I simply say that I'll ask Mr. Wyatt and my uncle to never do business with Chicago Title and to spread the word about them. I certainly will."

"Be careful because they could bring a civil case against you. And even if you win, it'll cost you time, money, and your reputation."

"Nobody should be able to get away with the crap that I hear title companies get away with and have just witnessed."

"Oh, it gets worse. I had one where they gave the purchaser the wrong amount for the check for a 4:00pm closing. Guess what you can't do after 4:00pm?"

"Get a cashier's check."

"Correct. It delayed the closing for two weeks. And there was no recourse because it was an 'honest error' in their view, and no way was it worth fighting. And, if anyone had a claim, it was the seller who had cascading problems from it. It only set the buyer back two weeks on their possession and remodeling, but they had enough slack time built into their schedule that they made their move-in date despite the delay."

"Hi," a man of about fifty said, coming into the room. "What is this about threatening us with wire fraud charges for a mistake YOU made?"

Nelson gave me a look, and I considered my response.

"I'd be very curious to know what that was," I said.

"The fax transmission didn't come through properly."

"I have a confirmation sheet," I said smoothly. "That means your fax machine acknowledged receipt of a properly transmitted document. I can provide the original if you wish. I have it in my satchel."

"It's your responsibility to ensure we have all the documents."

"And, in addition to having the paper confirmation, I have a fax from you with the closing amount, which contains the statement that all documents were received and in order."

"And at the bottom of the page, it says 'no representation is made by any statement that does not bear an original signature.'"

"Nice," I said. "No worries. I'll simply subpoena the original. I know enough to know that if you've destroyed it, my copy will suffice."

"Get the fuck out of here. Sue us. I dare you."

Nelson put his hand on my arm, so I said nothing, and we got up and left the room. He waited until we had exited the lobby to speak.

"Trust me," Nelson said, "that's _exactly_ the kind of games they play. Your chances of winning are slim to none; it'll cost you money, and they'll simply laugh. And, what damages, other than $200, could you demand? It'll cost you a few thousand to collect $200, if you even do. And you might get attorney's fees, but you might not. You're usually easygoing. What happened?"

I took a deep breath and let it out, "Stress, I suspect."

"Spurgeon or at home?"

"At home. Keiko isn't doing well."

"Isn't doing well as in…"

"Yeah."

"Shit, man. I don't know what to say. If I can do anything…"

"Just be my friend. And next time, tell me to shut up, please."

Nelson laughed, "Normally, my caution would have been enough. I know this is going to sound wrong, but you need to find a way to reduce your stress."

"I know, but I'm not sure how to do that."

"Have you thought about seeing a counselor?"

"You aren't the first one to mention that, but mostly, it's with regard to grief. And, please, keep that information to yourself for now."

"I'm your attorney. I won't share a thing you tell me unless you tell me it's OK. When did you find out?"

"It's more understanding the progression given we haven't been able to find a marrow donor, and time is running out for that. Her latest blood test results confirm the trajectory."

"Call me any time, day or night. See you at Jeri's next Wednesday?"

"Yes."

We shook hands, and I returned to the Hancock Center.

I read the day's reports, noting that the FCC had recently approved Motorola's mobile telephone, the DynaTAC 8000x, and almost laughed at the projected retail price — $3,995. That was more than my previous month's take-home pay! That said, given the usefulness of the device, assuming it worked as advertised upon release, it meant Noel Spurgeon would buy one, and probably Murray Matheson as well.

The projected monthly cost was around $100, with the ability to call any phone number in the world from anywhere in Chicagoland without using a pay phone. According to the research report, the first-ever call using a commercial wireless system had been placed the day before from Solider Field. The caller was in his Mercedes and he called someone who then called the grandson of Alexander Graham Bell, who was in Germany.

The analysis, with which I agreed, said Motorola was a 'strong buy' based on their plan to bring the cost of the phone down dramatically and to eventually make monthly service available for around $25 per month. That would make the phones indispensable for business and would make Motorola stock even more attractive.

Based on everything in the report, I decided to take a position in Motorola, knowing that it was a long-term play. I had a few stocks in my portfolio which were speculative and which would have a long-term payoff. Motorola would join Apple Computer, Hawaiian Airlines, General Foods, and Proctor & Gamble. I limited those long-term plays to no more than 5% of my portfolio, as they would drag down my annual gains until they hit, and I had to be careful not to overweight stocks, which would take years to show significant gains.

The same report also discussed the pending AT&T breakup and how the market would price the 'when issued' shares of what was being called the 'Baby Bells.' The consensus in the report was that there would not be immediate significant gains, and taking a position in AT&T made no sense. I agreed and chose not to take a position, especially given I'd sold off the AT&T stock that had been held by the Overland Park Union pension fund.

In the commodities report, I read that Getty Oil was in play, and after a brief analysis, I took a position on the expectation that they would be acquired. The stock was already up due to the rumors, but Steve Mansour was confident that a bidding war would break out and the shares would climb significantly from their current value in early 1984. That was a timeframe I liked, so I entered buy orders for shares.

I finished my review just in time to have lunch with Bianca. I described what had happened at Chicago Title and my reaction, and she agreed with Nelson that I was showing signs of stress. Her solution, though, was one I couldn't act on, though I knew it was offered in jest.

"Baseball was a pretty good stress reliever," Bianca teased. "And I am sure a team would make themselves available for a game!"

I chuckled, "And I would predecease Keiko at that point, and she wouldn't even end up in prison given her condition! Not that I'd do it, of course."

"No, you wouldn't because cheating is very much not you. So, the nine virgins aside, what's your plan?"

"Wait! Nine virgins?! Hmm…" I teased.

Bianca laughed, "I bet you dollars to doughnuts you like experienced girls."

"You'd win that bet for sure, though I remember a pair of inexperienced girls who were VERY good!"

Bianca laughed, "Guilty as charged, as is Shelly! And a few others, or so I hear! So, seriously?"

"I'm going to call Nancy Jane Moore, Violet’s counselor. If she can't, or won't, see me, I'm sure she'll recommend someone good."

"I think that's good. I can't imagine the stress you're experiencing now with Keiko, work, and our baby. Not to mention buying two buildings. You might ask Tim Anderson for a tougher workout. Exercise supposedly relieves stress."

"I'll talk to him when we go downstairs."

We finished our lunch, then headed to the gym. After I changed, I asked Tim if we could speak. He agreed, and I explained my situation.

"I think a mix of aerobics, breathing, and progressive muscular relaxation would be what you're looking for. Both yoga and martial arts combine all three of those in some way or another. For martial arts, I'd say Aikido or Tai Chi would be good choices, and I can point you to instructors. We offer yoga classes here at 6:30am and 5:00pm, with each class lasting about fifty minutes. If you don't want to do either of those, then add jumping rope to your exercise rotation and set aside time for meditation."

"Let me think about it," I said.

"I'm here anytime!"

I completed my usual exercise routine, showered, and dressed, then Bianca and I headed back upstairs. I explained the options Tim had suggested and that I felt adding jumping rope and finding time for meditation was probably the best I could do at the moment, as I didn't want to commit to several more hours out of the house each day. Bianca agreed so that's what I decided to do. I also placed a call to Nancy Jane Moore and arranged to see her on Saturday afternoon, and once I explained about Keiko, she agreed we could meet at my house.

When I left the office, instead of heading home, I drove to Logan Square to meet with Kasia Pucinski. She invited me in, brought me a Coke, and we sat down at her desk. I handed her one set of master keys for each building, along with copies of the leases, then signed a contract for property management, which Nelson had reviewed and approved.

"I'll send a letter to each tenant instructing them where to send the rent checks. Did the previous owner send his letters?"

"Yes. They were sent and acknowledged. The security deposits were also transferred to an account in the name of Yuusuke Holdings. Nelson made sure it conforms to Illinois law with regard to what amounts to escrow."

"Good. If someone does move out, I'll send you a full accounting of the move-out inspection and any associated charges. You'll cut the check directly to the former lessee. If a balance is due, they'll pay me and I'll coördinate any repairs. Rents will come to me, and once the reserve amount is reached, I'll send you the balance, less any fees, made out to Yuusuke Holdings."

"Perfect," I replied. "Do you need anything else from me?"

"No, I think we have everything set. Obviously, if anything comes up, I'll call you. I assume you're going to purchase additional properties?"

"Probably about this time next year," I replied. "My long-term goal is ten income-producing properties."

"That's a good number and will provide you with some nice income once the mortgages are paid off."

"That's the plan."

"If you know anyone else in the market for property management services, please send them my way."

"Will do."

She walked me to the door, we exchanged a light platonic hug, and then I walked to my car. Twenty minutes later, I parked in the garage of the house and went inside.

"We own two buildings!" I said to Keiko after greeting her with a hug and a kiss.

"You know, I haven't even seen them!"

"We could do that tomorrow if you wanted. I do have something new tomorrow — I'm seeing a counselor because I realized I'm really stressed."

"I know," Keiko said. "And I had a visit from a counselor every day each time I was in the hospital. I'm glad you're doing something about it. I'm also glad you're going out tonight."

"Why don't you come along? CeCi, Jack, and Kristy won't mind. You can wear your mask in the theatre."

"I'd probably fall asleep even in the James Bond movie! Go out, have a good time, and we'll go out tomorrow to see the buildings. I'll be in bed when you get home."

"Ours or the hospital bed?"

"Ours for as long as I can go up and down the stairs. I don't have the IV, and I'm still strong enough. And you can wake me if you want."

"Do you want me to wake you?"

Keiko smiled, "Yes."

I kissed her, then went upstairs to change. Once I had changed, I sat with Keiko until Jack arrived home, then he, Kristy, CeCi, and I left to have dinner at The Berghoff, after which we went to see Sean Connery in _Never Say Never Again_. The movie was a typical Bond movie, though with some changes necessitated by the fact that it wasn't part of the usual series produced by Eon.

"I missed the _James Bond Theme_," Jack groused. "But I guess they couldn't use it because it wasn't an official movie."

"There was a lawsuit that led to the making of the movie," CeCi said. "I don't know the full details, but my film professor mentioned it had to do with appropriation of story ideas by Ian Flemming. The settlement of the lawsuit was in 1964, and it took nearly twenty years to capitalize on it."

"Ice cream?" Kristy suggested.

Everyone agreed, so we walked to Oberweis, and after we had our ice cream, we headed home. Keiko woke up when I slipped into bed, and at her urging, we made love once before snuggling together to fall asleep.