Jason was on the verge of departing from Crestwood when his phone vibrated in his pocket. The screen illuminated with the na lissa Grant, prompting a slight raise of his eyebrows.
He answered the call, bringing the device to his ear.
"This is Jason Brown speaking."
"Mr. Brown," lissa’s composed voice responded, "thank you once again for your earlier visit. I would like to discuss several additional matters concerning your account, but in a more informal environnt. I apologize for any inconvenience. If you are still in Crestwood, would you be available to et?"
Jason reflected, realizing this likely ant he would not be returning ho that day.
He checked the ti; the afternoon was transitioning into its golden hour.
"I can make ti. Where shall we et?"
"There is a venue called Delmare Café, approximately three blocks from the bank. It is quiet, private, and serves quality coffee. I will be there in twenty minutes."
"I will be there," Jason replied succinctly, signaling the taxi driver to alter the route, as he was en route ho. The driver complied without any visible sign of displeasure.
"Very well. I look forward to seeing you soon," lissa concluded.
The call ended, and Jason pocketed his phone with a faint smile appearing on his lips.
’A follow-up eting already?’
***
Thirty minutes later, the taxi deposited him near the Café before departing.
He crossed the street at a asured pace once the pedestrian signal turned green.
The streets of Crestwood exhibited their customary activity, bustling with office workers exiting their buildings, couples strolling with takeaway beverages, and vendors arranging their stalls in preparation for the evening. The ambient light cast a soft amber hue, accentuating the glass towers that reflected the day’s final rays. Jason maintained a relaxed gait, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Delmare Café was situated neatly between a bookstore and a flower boutique. Its front windows emitted a warm glow that contrasted with the encroaching dusk. Inside, the atmosphere was refined and tranquil, predominantly occupied by individuals who appeared to have just left work. Jason quickly scanned the room and spotted lissa seated near the window, gesturing animatedly.
"Already here," he thought to himself.
She was no longer dressed in her formal uniform. The navy jacket had been replaced by a beige silk blouse and a fitted skirt that accentuated her figure. Her hair remained neatly tied, though a few loose strands frad her face.
Jason approached, and she imdiately acknowledged his presence.
"Mr. Jason," she greeted warmly. "You arrived right on ti."
"I did turn around as soon as you called back," Jason responded with a slight smile as he took a seat opposite her. "I assu this concerns the investnt proposal you ntioned."
"Partly," she replied, closing the small notebook before her. "However, I intended for this to be a more candid conversation."
A waitress arrived to take their orders.
lissa requested an espresso, while Jason opted for black coffee. After the waitress departed and subsequently returned with their drinks, lissa leaned forward slightly, resting one arm on the table.
"I will be frank, Jason. You are not a typical client. I appreciate that you are young, composed, and sowhat enigmatic. That alone places you within a very small percentage of individuals who pass through my office."
Jason maintained eye contact with her.
"Should I interpret that as flattery or a cause for concern?"
"Flattery," she replied with a light tone. "You conducted our initial conversation with considerable composure, which is why I was eager to arrange a follow-up eting promptly."
Jason stirred his coffee once before taking a deliberate sip.
"In that case, I suppose this serves as a form of assessnt."
"You could describe it that way," she responded, offering a faint smile. "Tell , Jason, if you suddenly ca into possession of ten million dollars without any conditions, how would you allocate it?"
Jason reclined slightly.
"Initially, I would allocate twenty percent as liquid cash. Forty percent would be invested in scalable ventures such as technology, real estate, and commodities. The remaining portion would be directed toward fixed assets; land, property, or strategic partnerships. After all, nothing preserves value more effectively than owning resources that others require."
lissa raised her eyebrows subtly.
"You have clearly contemplated this before."
Internally, Jason thought, ’Of course, I fabricated that response to project the image of a serious businessman. In reality, I intended to squander any reward money on indulgences like won and nightlife, living nearly recklessly.’
He nodded subtly, masking his true thoughts with a composed deanor.
"One does not survive long without adopting such a mindset. Stability is achieved only when one can anticipate uncertainty."
"An intriguing perspective," she murmured. "Most individuals your age would claim they would purchase cars, travel, or retire early."
’That is not an inaccurate statent. It was precisely my previous plan.’
Jason offered a slight smile.
"Most people my age focus on appearing wealthy rather than maintaining wealth."
lissa’s gaze remained fixed on him for a mont longer.
"You speak as though you have already experienced a full life, Mr. Jason."
He t her gaze steadily, without hesitation.
"Perhaps I have," he replied.
’...The one enduring relentless suffering without any hope for a certain future.’
Her lips curved slightly, as if she had detected a subtle nuance in his tone but chose not to pursue it further.
"Then allow to ask sothing else. What motivates you more: security or ambition?"
Jason did not respond imdiately. Instead, he turned his attention to the window beside them, observing the passersby as he spoke:
"Security provides comfort. Ambition grants power. The distinction lies in the fact that security ceases when comfort suffices, whereas ambition is unending."
lissa tapped her cup lightly with her finger, her gaze set on him.
"You are very deliberate with your choice of words."
’Indeed. I am employing this body’s capabilities alongside a philosophical mindset.’
A brief silence ensued. She studied him intently, as if attempting to discern the layers beneath his composed deanor.
"Do you place your trust in others easily?" she inquired with sincere curiosity.
"Only when they give a reason to do so," he replied, tilting his head slightly.
"And if they do not?"
"Then I withhold it as well."
lissa’s smile reappeared, this ti seeming more genuine.
"You will fare well in Crestwood, then. This city devours the naive and rewards the astute. I trust you intend to relocate here."
"No, I do not. I hold a deep affection for my hotown. Were you a man like , I am certain you would understand what I an."
The bank manager furrowed her brow, recalling the address listed in his information. She chuckled quietly to herself and dismissed the matter.
The conversation transitioned to a more casual discussion concerning business cycles, Crestwood’s real estate developnts, and the subdued competition within the market. lissa predominantly spoke with the deanor of a strategist, while Jason attentively perceived every subtlety and test embedded within her seemingly offhand remarks. She was simultaneously evaluating him and revealing aspects of her own character; a leader who had established authority through intellect rather than privilege.
When lissa inquired about his perspective on investnt trends, Jason responded with an insight that caused her to pause thoughtfully.
"You understand money as a movent," she observed after a mont.
"I prefer to consider it as a language," Jason replied. "Once you beco fluent, people begin to listen even before you speak."
lissa emitted a quiet chuckle.
"You possess a dangerous charm that I find appealing, Mr. Jason."
He offered a slight smile in response.
As their drinks neared depletion, the waitress approached to check on them. lissa declined another round. Her posture relaxed as she leaned back with reflective eyes.
"You have passed my little test," she finally stated. "You are disciplined. The board was correct to identify you as a potential high-tier client."
Jason nodded once.
"I will take that as positive news."
"More than positive," she affird. "It ans that tomorrow, my advisor will contact you to establish your investnt profile. I recomnd remaining in Crestwood overnight to complete the process early the following morning."
"I can accommodate that," Jason responded.
"Excellent. Perhaps tomorrow evening, we might discuss sothing less formal, possibly over dinner. Strictly professional, of course."
Jason smirked faintly and consented.
"Of course."
When the bill arrived, lissa paid it without hesitation.
"You will have opportunities to reciprocate," she said with composed confidence. "Consider this a gesture of goodwill."
Jason internally thought:
’No way. I wasn’t even planning to pay for that, given that I was clearly instructed to co here.’
As they stepped outside, night had fully settled in. The streetlights cast a warm glow along the sidewalk, and the café’s windows mirrored the headlights of passing cars. lissa’s car, a rcedes Benz SUV, was parked at the curb with her driver inside.
"That was quite an evening," she said, turning to him. "You have a remarkable mind, Mr. Jason. And believe , I don’t say that lightly."
He t her gaze silently.
She opened the back door of the car but hesitated for a mont. "I an it. You’re unlike most people I encounter in this line of work. Hold onto that edge... it will take you far."
"I truly intend to," he replied softly.
Her face softened, almost approvingly.
"See you tomorrow, then."
She got into the car, and the driver pulled away into the street. Jason watched until the taillights vanished into the traffic. Then he took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found his stepmother’s number.
She answered promptly.
"Jason?"
"Yeah, it’s , Mom," he said calmly. "I won’t be coming ho tonight. I’m staying over in Crestwood."
"Oh? Alright, just don’t do anything reckless."
"Nothing like that. It’s just business. I have an early appointnt tomorrow."
"Oh? That’s unexpected. Okay then, good. Stay safe, and I hope everything goes well."
"Thanks, Mom. I’ll call again tomorrow."
He ended the call, put his phone away, and looked down the quiet street ahead. The night’s glow reflected softly on the glass buildings around him.
He turned toward a nearby hotel, ready to book a room for the night.
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