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concierge wearing a uniform that looked more like a hotel uniform than anything else came down to the old pickup truck and held the door as Holden got out. Jimmy hopped out the other side and came around.
    “Nice truck, fellas,” the concierge said.
    Holden tossed him the key. “What’s your name?” he said to the man.
    “Harry, but everyone calls me Hal.”
    “Would you do me a big favor, Hal?”
    “Of course, Mr. West.”
    “Take that truck back to Jimmy’s Auto Service down under the bridge.”
    “Sure thing, Mr. West.”
    Jimmy was impressed. He was always amazed when he came to the office with Holden and saw firsthand just what a big shot Holden really was. No one ever would have guessed it. Holden went to great lengths to hide the fact that he was one of Wall Street’s most successful investors. He spent more time down at Jimmy’s mechanic shop wearing overalls and getting his hands dirty than he did at his own office building. Sometimes Jimmy himself even forgot that Holden had this entire other part of his life going on. Ever since his wife had died, Holden had stopped spending his time at the office. He’d started spending all of his time with Jimmy at the shop. He still ran the entire corporation, mostly at night, sending emails and checking stock market movements on his computer at his apartment, but every once in a while he had to show his face at the office. Jimmy would get used to seeing Holden in the garage, and it was surprising when something would happen to remind him that Holden was also part of a completely different world, a world that went far beyond most people’s wildest fantasies.
    He followed Holden up the heavy, granite steps that led to the grand entrance of the building. On a shiny brass plaque by the door was inscribed in Roman letters, West Financial Group.
    Inside the building the air was cool and still. The lobby always reminded Jimmy of Grand Central Station, the way the high stone columns and heavy lead-glass windows gave a feeling of loftiness and integrity.
    “Good morning Mr. West,” a young woman behind the reception desk said.
    Holden nodded and proceeded through the lobby to a brass plated elevator. Jimmy smiled at the receptionist and hurried after Holden. It felt strange to be striding through the lobby of such a prestigious financial building in dirty mechanic’s overalls but every time he came here with Holden it had been like this. Once inside the elevator Holden had to put a security card into the elevator control to gain access to the secure levels of the building. He pressed the button for the top floor.
    Jimmy shook his head as he watched Holden.
    “What?” Holden said.
    “What do you mean, what? Look at you.”
    Holden winked. “It’s not a big deal,” he said.
    “It’s a huge deal,” Jimmy said.
    “Really,” Holden said. “It’s just the way the world works, and the world works ass backwards as far as I can tell.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, the work we did these last two days on the J10, that was just as difficult, just as skilled and just as important as anything we’re going to do in here right now.”
    “I don’t know,” Jimmy said.
    “It’s true,” Holden said, “trust me. And to be honest, I’ll get a hundred times more satisfaction from fixing that transmission than I will from closing a deal.”
    “Yeah, but it’s not the same thing.”
    “I know,” Holden said. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. I’ve seen how much money can be made signing a few pieces of paper in here compared to working my butt off at the shop with you.”
    “Don’t remind me,” Jimmy said.
    “You’re not envious of any of this,” Holden said. “I know you’re not. I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you get a car running.”
    “Sometimes,” Jimmy said, “but sometimes I come in here with you and it’s like a different universe.”
    “Hey,” Holden said. “If you ever want to put on a suit and spend a couple of