Part 1 - Emily
As the clock struck 9:30, the opening bell rang through the New York Stock Exchange, and the traders of Goldman Sachs collectively drew in a deep breath, nervously bracing for another stressful day of work.
Everyone except for Emily. Emily was a gifted trader, always seeming to find companies poised to break through. She bought GameStop at $20, she invested in Spotify before they went public, and rumour has it that she bought a share of Apple with her Christmas money in 2009 when she was just 12.
The predominantly male trading floor, who at first thought Emily was hired for her stunning good looks and provocative outfit choices, believed she was just getting lucky. But after 18 months of consistent wins, even when the overall market lost, the floor came to accept that Emily was an investment oracle.
Everyone, including her boss Avery, wanted to know her secret. Emily sensed their greed and deflected the onslaught of questions, always replying, "It's simple: Buy the right companies."
Emily did have a secret, but it wasn't some nonsensical adage. Emily's gift, her superpower, was reading the thoughts of those she spoke with. She could even sense the true meaning behind the press releases of the larger companies. When a company was truly confident in their success, she bought. When their belief faded, she sold.
Sensing thoughts had other advantages too. When she walked into the office on the first day wearing a tiny pencil skirt and a blouse cut so low that her large breasts nearly spilled out of it, the nearly overwhelming wave of "
nice ass
", "
fuck, those are some nice tits
", and "
damn, I'd sure love to bend her over my desk and rail her
" thoughts increased her confidence and dampened her panties.
Amongst the thoughts admiring her sexiness were a few more damning thoughts, like "
Fuck, I forgot to feed Natalie, my Hucow,
" from her boss Avery, and "
I sure hope my wife doesn't find out I masturbate in the grocery store parking lot
" from the helplessly inept trader, Alex. Alex's secret wouldn't be useful as he'd surely be fired within the month, but knowledge of Avery's Hucow could be useful in negotiating a pay raise.
Part 2 - Will
The only person Emily couldn't read was Will. Will was consistently amongst the top performing analysts, but his style was more technical. Whereas Emily would invest in a small number of companies she knew would be profitable, Will bought and sold a large number of stocks seemingly at random. He would buy a company one day, then short it the next, and somehow make money on both trades. His success baffled Emily, but nevertheless, he and Emily dominated the rest of the trading floor.
Will came to work every day in a black suit: simple black jacket, crisp white dress shirt, pressed black pants, and a solid-coloured neck tie. To those who paid attention, Will's tie colour followed a subtle pattern: red on Monday, green on Tuesday, blue on Wednesday, purple on Thursday, and black on Friday. Even on Fridays, when Avery allowed his team to dress casually, Will still arrived in his suit, saying, "It looks good, I like it."
While Emily spent her days talking to CEOs and reading press releases, Will spent his time behind his quadruple-monitor set up analyzing stock patterns. Emily often strolled over the Will's space to try to uncover the method behind the madness, but the sheer amount of information was dizzying. She couldn't understand how he could synthesize anything from his mountain of graphs and data. Emily desperately wanted to know two things:
1. Why she couldn't read Will
2. How he could make so much money
When Emily wanted something, she got it. Men are easy to manipulate even without access to their thoughts, but with her talent, getting anything was a cakewalk. First, she learned their deepest desires (usually to fuck her), and then dangled it in front of them until they broke. And if for some reason that didn't work secrets (like Avery's Hucow Natalie) made great blackmail material.
Unfortunately, Will was a tough nut to crack. Without access to his thoughts, Emily tried what all the other hot girls do when they want something: flirt.
One Monday morning, Emily gazed into her wardrobe and picked out her shortest skirt; a white, button-down blouse; a tiny, red thong; and a matching red push-up bra which added two cup sizes to her already massive breasts. Looking at over her shoulder at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she wondered if her skirt was a touch too short. Bending over even slightly caused her skirt to ride up, exposing more of her bubbly ass. "
Damn, you have nice tits,
" she thought admiring the cleavage revealed by unbuttoning the top four buttons of her blouse. She completed the outfit with a touch of matte red lipstick and classic 4-inch black heels.
No! This is too much. Emily's mind raced as she struggled to balance modesty and sexiness. She stripped out of her skirt and put on something a little more modest. Fuck. No. I need to seduce Will. Why can't I read his mind? Agh! Fine, the short skirt it is. Emily put back on the sluttier skirt, and hurried out the door to hail a taxi.
Emily strutted into the office, and all heads turned. All jaws hit the floor.
"
Did god hear my prayers?
"
"
What the actual fuck; did I die and go to heaven?
"
"
Fuck, now I need some new underpants.
"
"
I would trade the lives of my wife, kids, and parents for just one night with her.
"
Emily knew what she caused and felt a little bad for teasing them, but she was on a mission. She strode over to Will, who was, as usual, dressed in his typical Monday outfit.
"Hey, Emily, you look nice today. What's the occasion?" Will asked, looking up from his monitors.
"You think I look nice? Hehe. How was, uh, how was your weekend?" Emily replied.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old. Did you get up to anything fun?" Will said wondering why Emily was being so talkative today.
"Will. Emily. My office now please," Avery shouted across the office, his booming voice cutting through the chatter, crushing Emily's attempts to flirt.
Part 3 - The Promotion
Avery's office was beautiful. A hefty wooden desk filled the center of the room, a small bookshelf of business books sat on left wall, and Avery's numerous degrees were displayed proudly on the other. Avery gazed out a full-length window overlooking Rockefeller Park as Will and Emily walked in.
Avery was a large man both physically and intangibly. A crisp dark blue suit clothed his 6-foot-2 frame, and his voice was loud and confident. Avery gave his employees freedom to make their own decisions, but when needed, he exerted his authority with confidence. When faced with a difficult decision—who to hire, who to fire, who to discipline, who to let off with a slap on the wrist—Avery always seemed to have the answer.
"Please, sit," Avery said gesturing to the white chairs in front of his desk. He took his position behind the desk in his leather executive's chair.
"Let's cut to the chase," Avery began. "We all know you both are miles above the dimwits you work with. Hell, you're better than nearly everyone in this city. There's a promotion coming up, but I can only recommend one of you. I wish I could recommend you both, but I can't. I normally wouldn't call you both in, but I think you deserve to know how close this call was. This was a difficult decision, so in the end, I had to defer to the numbers. Emily, you seem to have this gift for finding unicorns. You are better than 99% of folks in this office. But sadly, Will is the 1%. Will is getting the promotion."
"Wait! I know about Natalie," interrupted Emily. Avery's face drained of colour.
"Avery's Hucow?" Will asked casually.
"How, uh, how do you know about her" Avery and Emily asked, Avery horrified that anyone knew and Emily perplexed as to how Will knew.
"If you don't give me the promotion I'll tell everyone that you have a Hucow," threatened Emily.
"But I also know about Natalie, so couldn't I make a similar threat?" Will asked rhetorically.
"Surely, there's a way you can decide who get the promotion without anyone finding out about Natalie," countered Avery. "I'll be ruined if anyone finds out."
"What would you propose?" asked Emily.
"They say that Wall Street is basically gambling, so why don't we gamble for it? Winner gets the promotion," said Will coolly.
"You know how to play Texas Hold 'Em?" Emily asked.
"Of course," replied Will.
"How will I know you won't cheat? A slick guy like you probably knows how to rig the deck or something," said Emily.
"Avery will be the dealer, if that's okay with you, sir?" Will said, half-asking, half-commanding.
"Of course," said Avery shakily. I'll see you both at my house Saturday evening.
"Oh, and make sure Natalie is there. I'm curious to meet her," said Will.
"Ok," Avery quietly agreed, his normally booming voice reduced to a scared whisper.
Emily walked out of Avery's office hiding her smile, but once she was back to her desk, she couldn't help it, a grinning smile formed across her face. Emily was as good at poker as she was at finding companies. When she was a little girl, her dad taught her the game. He taught her how to read when an opponent has strong cards and when they are bluffing. Game after game, night after night, Emily and her dad played, and Emily got better and better at reading her dad. It got to the point where Emily was able to predict her dad's cards perfectly. It wasn't long until she was able to read his thoughts.
And so, Emily's gift was born. Soon, she was able to read thoughts beyond poker, and with practice her talent flourished. Still, poker was her strongest area. Although Emily wasn't able to read Will's thoughts (not yet at least!), she was confident she would be able to get a good enough read to at least know if he was bluffing or not. And even barring that, Emily estimated that she'd played over 300 000 hands of poker over her life. Will didn't stand a chance.
