The Price of Indifference and the Fall of Elias King
“And Elias?” I asked.
“They are saying the board is forcing a vote this afternoon,” she said.
“He asked me to stand by him,” I said.
Sarah let out a short, dry laugh.
“Of course he did,” she said. “He needs a shield.”
“I told him no,” I said.
“Good,” Sarah said. “We have our own clients to worry about. The Boston office is swamped.”
“How many?” I asked.
“Four major clients from Elias’s old roster just called,” she said. “They want to move their portfolios to us.”
I looked out the window as the car merged into the rainy afternoon traffic.
“They are leaving him,” I muttered.
“They are leaving a sinking ship,” Sarah said. “We need to be ready to catch them.”
“I’ll be there in two hours,” I said.
I hung up the phone and stared at the dark screen.
The car moved slowly through the gridlock.
I looked at my hands, resting in my lap.
They were steady.
For years, I had felt like a ghost in my own life, drifting through social galas and silent dinners.