She went back to work. I noticed the price tags. “Christ Almighty, $275 for the shirt and $150 for the tie?”
“What’s the problem?” she said with a straight face.
“I’ve never spent that kind of money on this kind of stuff in my life!”
“Stop,” she paused. “You can afford it. You’ve earned it. Occasionally spoiling yourself is a good thing.”
She had a point. Then she threw a dagger, just for fun. “For goodness' sake, at your age how many more of these conferences do you think you’re going to headline?”
Two shirts and two ties heavier and $1023 lighter, Alexandria and I headed to the shoe section. As we passed the costume jewelry section, she said, “Do you mind if I browse a minute?” I nodded okay. After all, Lauren was away at an overnight conference, so there were no deadlines.
She tried on a half-moon shaped necklace made from thin strands of silver.
“That looks fabulous on you!”
She watched my eyes. “You think so?” When she was confident I wasn’t kidding, she glanced at the price tag.
“It’s nice, but I really need a pair of shoes.”
I knew she didn’t want to say the necklace was too expensive. I walked behind her and looked at the price tag. At $425, it was a bargain compared to my shirts and ties.
I handed my credit card to the saleslady behind the counter, “We’ll take it.”
“I couldn’t.’
“Consider it your fee for helping me shop.”
Alexandria turned around and looked me straight in the eye. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you!”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Alexandria, you have such an original way of saying thank you.”
~
When I packed for the trip, I made sure Lauren didn’t see the new shirts and ties. I wore both during my two speeches on the stage at the conference. It also realized that Alexandria and I never went shoe shopping.
16.
Getting deeper into the hole…
For a real change of pace, we opened the conference with a black-tie dinner dance. Since I was solo, I made sure to work the room. My goal was to chat with virtually every important producer. Courtney made me a floor plan that listed advisors by the amount of production and where they were located.
Next up was Dan Whitman. Alexandria, not surprisingly, was sitting at his table. “Martin, so glad you could grace us with your presence,” smiled Alexandria as she made the introductions. “This is Dan and his wife, Margaret. You may remember we were on the phone recently?”
“Dan, it’s a pleasure. Where’s your brother Mike, and Roxanne?”
“Mike’s not been feeling well lately. He and Rox decided to stay home, but he sends his best.”
“I’ve been thinking about your situation with all those P&C clients. I think I have a few ideas that can bump the needle this coming year. We should talk when we all get back. Alexandria, I assume…”
“Done,” smiled Alexandria.
“Martin, don’t tell me you’re a workaholic like my husband?”
“I wouldn’t say that. But I’m guessing you’d look great in one of those new Bentley Silver Streak convertibles. That’s why Alexandria and I need to talk to your husband and his brother when we get back.”
As the table laughed, the band began to play “The Way You Look Tonight.” I looked at Alexandria; she was stunning.
“Can I tear you away from your clients?”
We tucked ourselves into a corner of the dance floor.
“I’m impressed. That was masterful. I had no idea you were that smooth.”
“You don’t survive on Wall Street for as long as I did without some ability to suck up. But keep in mind, I did my homework. I didn’t just accidentally stop by. I have two new ideas I’ve already bounced off Joanne.”
“Why Joanne?”
“As my marketing director, she’s in charge of Whitman business building initiatives.”
“Is that all?” she teased.
“Do I detect a streak of jealousy?”
“Shut up. Just dance.”
She was stunning. The hair, the eyes, the lips, the dress, her smile, the necklace. I put both arms around her as we danced to the classic, “The Way You Look Tonight…”
Someday, when I’m awfully low.
When the world is cold,
“These lyrics were made for you,” I said. She put her head on my shoulder. I could feel her soft flaxen hair.
The music stopped. We just stood there looking at each other. The dance floor was almost empty. “We better get you back to your guests.” She smiled.
As we made our way through the crowd back to the table, I could see Margaret’s eyes following the two of us.
“Wow,” said Margaret, looking right at Alexandria. “I could feel the sparks from here.”
I was about to move on when our events coordinator, Karen Archoa, stopped by with the photographer. “Martin, we are trying to get pictures of each table. Sort of a memento.”
I joined in for the table shot. The photographer was about to leave.
“Karen, would you mind one more picture?” said Margaret. “Dan and Alexandria, come here.” The three of them stood together. “Martin, you’re supposed to be in this one. And I want you to get close to Alexandria.”
~
Two weeks after the conference, a picture collage was sent by the photographer to each member of senior management. I wasn’t home when the picture arrived, but Lauren was. There were the Beach Boys, Rudy Giuliani, selected shots of advisors, and the four-shot of Dan, Margaret, Alexandria, and me.
“Your conference collage arrived today in a very nice frame. It looks like you all had a great time, Lauren or no Lauren. Who is the couple?”
“That’s Margaret Whitman and her husband, Dan.”
“Why was Alexandria with you?”
“She’s not with me. She’s Dan’s business
