maybe?”
“I’m
fine,” Mathis brushed me off. “Just a business phone call. Have a seat.”
I took
a seat in one of the comfortable chairs and watched as Mathis crossed over to a
miniature fridge, drawing out a bottle of water and pouring some into a glass.
He seemed to calm down a little as he took a long gulp of water.
“Did
you want anything?” he asked as he put down his glass. “Coffee? Water?”
“No,
thanks,” I said. I shivered a little as the cold air from the fridge reached
me.
“Are
you cold?” he asked me, noticing my shiver, his light blue eyes sweeping over
my gooseflesh.
“A
little,” I said. “Silly of me to go around without a jacket in March.”
“I’ll
turn the air conditioning down,” he said in a chivalrous gesture which reminded
me of the old Mathis.
“Thanks,”
I said. For a moment it looked as if he wanted to say something else after
changing the thermostat, but he seemed to stop himself, and instead crossed the
office in a few long strides, seating himself opposite me.
“Alright,
let’s get started. I thought the first thing we’d do is review the histories of
the companies you’re invested in. That way you’ll have a better understanding
of their markets,” said Mathis, his tone professional.
The
next forty minutes or so were a deluge of information, most of it entirely new
to me. From time to time, Mathis would fire a question at me about one of the
businesses. If I got it right, a curt nod of acknowledgement was all I
received. If I got it wrong, another lecture followed, with a whole new barrage
of facts. Whatever else Mathis was, he still possessed that incredible focus
and dedication to his work that I remembered from that summer.
My own
focus had never been nearly as good except for when I was reading. I was
starting to flag, and Mathis could sense it.
“Alright,
Amanda. This is an easy one. What is the net worth of Dillinger, Inc.?”
“Dillinger?”
I frowned, trying to remember that one fact among the flood of information
which Mathis had provided me with. “A few hundred million?” I guessed.
“Pay
attention, Amanda. We went over this already,” Mathis sighed.
“Ugh!”
I pushed my hair back with my hands, feeling my brain melt like a marshmallow
over a campfire. “It’s just too much to remember all at once, Mathis. I need
some time to digest all this information.”
“You
just need to focus, Amanda. I know you can do it if you try,” Mathis said. His
tone bordered on encouraging, the soft, warm tone I remembered from the days
when we tried to climb the highest trees in the wood, so high that we could see
all the way back to Uncle Andy’s house.
I took
courage from his slightly more friendly tone. “Do you remember when we climbed
that old oak tree at Uncle Andy’s house in the country?”
“Amanda,
I don’t—” Mathis started, but I interrupted him.
“You
made a bet with me that you could climb higher than I could. I was so desperate
to prove you wrong. I raced you up, climbing on the branches that were too thin
for you, the ones that wouldn’t bear your weight. You shouted at me to be
careful,” I grinned, remembering the worried look on Mathis’ face as I sped on
ahead of him.
“I
remember,” Mathis said, a slight smile quirking his lips, the same smile which
had made my heart beat faster when I was fifteen years old. After all this
time, that particular effect didn’t seem to have dulled in the slightest. “You
wouldn’t listen to a word I said. All you were interested in doing was beating
me.”
“You
came up after me to make sure I was okay, though,” I added.
“And
one of those damn branches snapped beneath my weight,” Mathis laughed ruefully.
“I fell about ten feet before I caught myself on one of the lower branches. We
were quite the risk takers.”
“It was
scary,” I giggled at the memory. “Uncle Andy
“I’m
fine,” Mathis brushed me off. “Just a business phone call. Have a seat.”
I took
a seat in one of the comfortable chairs and watched as Mathis crossed over to a
miniature fridge, drawing out a bottle of water and pouring some into a glass.
He seemed to calm down a little as he took a long gulp of water.
“Did
you want anything?” he asked as he put down his glass. “Coffee? Water?”
“No,
thanks,” I said. I shivered a little as the cold air from the fridge reached
me.
“Are
you cold?” he asked me, noticing my shiver, his light blue eyes sweeping over
my gooseflesh.
“A
little,” I said. “Silly of me to go around without a jacket in March.”
“I’ll
turn the air conditioning down,” he said in a chivalrous gesture which reminded
me of the old Mathis.
“Thanks,”
I said. For a moment it looked as if he wanted to say something else after
changing the thermostat, but he seemed to stop himself, and instead crossed the
office in a few long strides, seating himself opposite me.
“Alright,
let’s get started. I thought the first thing we’d do is review the histories of
the companies you’re invested in. That way you’ll have a better understanding
of their markets,” said Mathis, his tone professional.
The
next forty minutes or so were a deluge of information, most of it entirely new
to me. From time to time, Mathis would fire a question at me about one of the
businesses. If I got it right, a curt nod of acknowledgement was all I
received. If I got it wrong, another lecture followed, with a whole new barrage
of facts. Whatever else Mathis was, he still possessed that incredible focus
and dedication to his work that I remembered from that summer.
My own
focus had never been nearly as good except for when I was reading. I was
starting to flag, and Mathis could sense it.
“Alright,
Amanda. This is an easy one. What is the net worth of Dillinger, Inc.?”
“Dillinger?”
I frowned, trying to remember that one fact among the flood of information
which Mathis had provided me with. “A few hundred million?” I guessed.
“Pay
attention, Amanda. We went over this already,” Mathis sighed.
“Ugh!”
I pushed my hair back with my hands, feeling my brain melt like a marshmallow
over a campfire. “It’s just too much to remember all at once, Mathis. I need
some time to digest all this information.”
“You
just need to focus, Amanda. I know you can do it if you try,” Mathis said. His
tone bordered on encouraging, the soft, warm tone I remembered from the days
when we tried to climb the highest trees in the wood, so high that we could see
all the way back to Uncle Andy’s house.
I took
courage from his slightly more friendly tone. “Do you remember when we climbed
that old oak tree at Uncle Andy’s house in the country?”
“Amanda,
I don’t—” Mathis started, but I interrupted him.
“You
made a bet with me that you could climb higher than I could. I was so desperate
to prove you wrong. I raced you up, climbing on the branches that were too thin
for you, the ones that wouldn’t bear your weight. You shouted at me to be
careful,” I grinned, remembering the worried look on Mathis’ face as I sped on
ahead of him.
“I
remember,” Mathis said, a slight smile quirking his lips, the same smile which
had made my heart beat faster when I was fifteen years old. After all this
time, that particular effect didn’t seem to have dulled in the slightest. “You
wouldn’t listen to a word I said. All you were interested in doing was beating
me.”
“You
came up after me to make sure I was okay, though,” I added.
“And
one of those damn branches snapped beneath my weight,” Mathis laughed ruefully.
“I fell about ten feet before I caught myself on one of the lower branches. We
were quite the risk takers.”
“It was
scary,” I giggled at the memory. “Uncle Andy
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