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estate in Newport. The mother was a powerful and protective New England martriarch whose main caloric intake was high-end vodka.
    “Like most of the top employees, I own some shares. Ninety percent of my pay is in stock. A much bigger block sits in a trust. Mother is the trustee—she set it up after putting up a sizable portion of the cash I needed to get the firm up and running again. The beneficiaries of the trust are the four siblings. The trustee votes the shares. Theremay be ways around the restrictions that I don’t know. All told, however, it comes to less than a third of the outstanding float. Anyone making a play could end-run all of us, if they had enough capital.”
    “It would be a lot easier if they had one or more of you on their side.”
    “If it’s family, that makes it . . .” He paused, searching for the right word.
    “Complicated?” I said.
    “Venomous,” he replied.

4
    T here was a knock at the door and Virgil called out, “Come in, Jim. You’re right on time.”
    A hint of aftershave preceded the man. Something manly. Old Spice. Bay rum. Kentucky bourbon. Something like that. He looked like he had just come from the gym, his hair still wet from the shower and slicked back like Pat Riley. He had a cocky smile that said,
We both know I’m faster, stronger, smarter, and more aggressive than you ever were or will be, but don’t hold it against me.
    I stood up and prepared to leave, but Virgil stopped me. “Don’t go. I want you to meet the firm’s latest acquisition.” He was grinning with barely concealed pride.
    The man faced me. If he was at all discomfited by being referred to as an asset, he gave no sign of it. He smiled warmly and extended his hand. I thought that he must not know my history or my current position. Those who did rarely smiled at me, warmly or otherwise.
    “This is James Nealis,” Virgil said. “He’s come on board to oversee all of our investment banking. He’ll be focusing on biotech.”
    “Jim,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”
    He definitely did not know who I was. We were even. I knew nothing about him. I should have. A hire at that level should have been vetted and I should have been part of the process. The head of all investment banking would be on a par, and if future circumstances warranted, a notch ahead of all other department heads. The position was tantamount to being second or third in the hierarchy. The fact that I had not been consulted grated. On the other hand, maybe my nose was out of joint about having to turn the penny stock kerfuffleover to Aimee Devane. Either way, it wasn’t Nealis’s fault. I could, at least, be pleasant.
    I shook his hand and welcomed him aboard. He was a man of medium height and build, with sharp green eyes. When he stopped smiling, his face became instantly unreadable. He would be a good poker player. Or negotiator.
    We all sat down. I gave Virgil a quizzical look to signal that I wanted more information—especially why I hadn’t been included in looking at the new hire. Virgil smiled at me instead of answering.
    “Jason works directly for me,” Virgil explained to Nealis. “He is my last line of defense. When legal and compliance can’t fix a problem, Jason often can. The firm would not have survived without him.”
    He turned to me and continued. “Our people have done well in industrial biotech—white—but we’re lagging in the hot areas—agricultural and medical—green and red. I don’t expect us to be in position to take on Goldman Sachs anytime soon, but a few small successes will make a big difference here.” It was a nice speech from someone not given to making them.
    Nealis surprised me. “I know what you do here, Jason. I’ve heard the talk. It’s great work. These times call for strict compliance and it’s good for Virgil to have someone he can trust who can work outside the normal channels. It’s too easy for a bureaucracy to accept the status quo. You’re the man to shake