The Underwriting Read Online Free PDF Page A

from under the covers over her head.
    He’d thrown the stuffed animal at her playfully. “Nice teddy bear, freshman.”
    â€œHa. Thanks. It was my sister’s.”
    â€œShe give it to you as a going-to-college present?” he’d teased.
    â€œNah. She’s dead.”
    His heart had dropped. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
    â€œNot your fault,” she’d said simply, pulling her long legs out from the covers to step over him and re-dress her lower half. She’d noticed his concern and added, for his benefit, “I’ve still got one.”
    She’d grabbed her shower caddy and a towel and headed for the door, told him she had to study but didn’t mind if he kept sleeping. He hadn’t known what to do, unaccustomed to being left in bed and under the impression that all girls liked cuddling. So he’d left before she got back from the shower, and that was it. The next week he’d graduated and moved to New York and five years later they’d been reintroduced by Lillian Dumas, an MD in Equity Capital Markets who’d had it out for him ever since he’d rejected her advances at a holiday party in favor of Suzie Tebow from Investor Relations. He’d hardly recognized Tara in a fitted suit and Longchamp bag and makeup to match the New York working-girl uniform, and he’d felt a pinch of sadness that she, too, had become a cliché.
    â€œAfter you.” Todd held the elevator door open, wondering whether she still slept with the teddy bear.
    â€œThanks.” She swept past, heading right as he turned left.
    Harvey’s assistant had Todd wait for twenty minutes outside the plush office where the senior vice chairman was laughing into his phone’s earpiece. The forty-second floor was only fifteen up from where Todd sat, but it felt like a different universe, with expensive art on the walls and massive offices that wrapped around the perimeter, looking out over the bustling city below.
    â€œSorry for the wait,” Harvey said when Todd was finally permitted entry into the spacious corner office. His handshake was stronger than his five-foot-seven frame might have led a person to expect. “My real estate broker.” Harvey shook his head with a congenial
I-know-you-don’t-know-but-trust-me-on-this-one
look. “I’m buying a new place in East Hampton. Southampton’s gotten overrun. You wouldn’t believe the kind of people they’re letting into the Meadow Club.”
    â€œSounds like a wise decision,” Todd said neutrally.
    â€œPlease, sit,” Harvey offered, and Todd followed the instruction. Harvey leaned back in his chair, tapping his thumbs together in his lap and staring into Todd’s eyes, studying. Todd could feel the muscles in his neck tense down through his shoulders, the way they used to before a water polo match when he saw the opposing team.
    â€œHmph,” Harvey finally grunted, shifting his weight in his chair, setting his arms on the desk between them, as if he’d uncovered all he needed to know about Todd.
    â€œWhen I was your age,” he started, “I was in the navy. I was stationed in the Pacific, in command of a crew of a hundred twenty, most of whom were older than me. It was right after the war and we were there to reingratiate ourselves with the Vietnamese.”
    Todd held his breath. He hated when old guys talked about their military days.
    â€œA lot of the guys liked going into town to visit the whorehouses. It was cheap entertainment and helped them relax, so I didn’t mind.”
    Harvey’s silver-blond hair was combed over his always-tanned skin; he wore an Ermenegildo Zegna suit over a starched white shirt and Cartier cuff links. Old school slick dick.
    â€œBut then this one guy, Pete, started getting tired of going into town. He picked his favorite whore and had her come back to the barracks.” Harvey shook his head, laughing as he thought