Concise.
No gifts.
No fake nostalgia.
Thank you for including Hawthorne in the process. I look forward to presenting our capabilities.
Better.
I responded with scheduling details.
What Lauren didn't realize was that I wasn't setting a trap.
I wanted to know who could manage our money well.
The presentation room held nine people.
Three from my side.
Three from Hawthorne.
Two members of our board's finance committee.
And Ethan, who had absolutely no reason to attend except that he'd asked whether he could watch.
“You're terrible,” I told him.
“I care deeply about treasury management.”
“You couldn't define duration risk yesterday.”
“I've grown.”
Lauren sat at the center of Hawthorne's side.
To her right was Ryan.
To her left sat a younger woman named Nina Patel.
Maybe twenty-eight.
Quiet.
Prepared.
I'd read her bio beforehand.
Five years in portfolio analytics.
MBA at night.
Specialization in risk modeling.
Lauren began the presentation.
And again, I was reminded that she was not incompetent.
She knew how to sell.
She was poised.
Confident.
Polished.
Her slides were excellent.
The problem came when selling stopped and questions began.
“What percentage of the proposed allocation would be exposed to duration beyond five years?” I asked.
Lauren glanced at a page.
“Our model is designed to preserve flexibility.”
“That wasn't my question.”
A pause.
Nina looked toward Lauren.
Lauren continued.
“Approximately twenty percent, depending on market conditions.”
Nina shifted.
I noticed.
“What is it today?”
Lauren checked again.
“Between seventeen and twenty.”
Nina spoke quietly.
“Fourteen-point-eight under Friday's close.”
Lauren looked at her.
So did I.
“Thank you,” I said.
Then I asked about fees.
Lauren gave me the published schedule.
I asked about breakpoints.
She hesitated.
Nina answered.
I asked how they would handle a potential conflict if the same fund participating in our equity round also became a Hawthorne relationship.
Lauren said their compliance group would review it.
“What does that mean operationally?”
Another pause.
Nina explained the information barriers.
Ryan said very little.
He was watching the same thing I was watching.
Lauren knew how to make the room feel good.
Nina knew what was inside the product.
After forty minutes, Lauren's confidence had begun to crack.
She interrupted Nina twice.
The second time, I held up a hand.
“Thank you, Lauren.”
Her mouth closed.
“I think I'd like to hear from your colleague now.”
The silence was brutal.
Not because I had raised my voice.
Because I hadn't.
Nina looked startled.
Then she continued.
Lauren sat back.
For the next twenty minutes, the younger woman answered nearly every question.
Liquidity.
Custody.
Counterparty exposure.
Concentration.
Tax reporting.
Operational risk.
She wasn't flashy.
She was good.
When the meeting ended, I thanked everyone.
Lauren did not look at me.
I should have known that would not last.
I was in the restroom washing my hands when the door opened hard behind me.
Lauren walked in.
The door shut.
For a second, we only looked at each other through the mirror.
Then she said, “Was that fun?”
I dried my hands.
“What?”
“You know exactly what.”
She was shaking.
Not with fear.
Humiliation.
“You invited me here to do that.”
“To ask questions?”
“To embarrass me.”
“I invited your firm because your firm is qualified.”
“Don't.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Don't pretend this isn't about high school.”
I turned to face her.
“No.”