No young man slips into life gracefully. ― E.M. Forster
The Man Who Has Everything
I was losing ground with Sylvia as I was losing faith in myself . Things seemed to be going from bad to worse.
The next day the buzz around the firm concerned the lavish cocktail party planned at Coro’s that night to celebrate Victor Goldman’s retirement—the guest list would include some of the most powerful men on Bay and Wall Streets, and the New York firm even invited many famous celebrities.
It would be a memorable night—my last chance to glean a few pearls of wisdom from Victor and afford yet another opportunity to impress Sylvia.
I resolved to make the best use of the occasion and left early to spend the afternoon getting spray tanned and shopping in the Village for expensive clothes.
Later that evening, I spent two hours getting ready – coiffing my hair, selecting my clothes and choosing just the right cologne.
I arrived at the party just past eight but was disappointed to find neither Tess nor Sylvia.
According to Tom, the two were having car problems and might not make it at all.
I was devastated and totally miserable.
I wasted an hour making the rounds, shaking hands and going through the motions of being sociable, but at the first opportunity I slipped out of the restaurant and headed to the bar intending to get drunk.
I picked a table with a view of the city lights and begin downing double scotches, while morosely brooding as I took inventory of my life.
A familiar, cultured, baritone brought me out of my reverie.
“There you are, Gray—thought you left—escaped this dreary affair. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. It’s horrid.”
Victor Goldman shivered theatrically, and then winked at me, a sly smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Do you mind if I join you?”
I was on my feet. “Please do Victor—excuse my rudeness—I ‘m not very good at schmoozing, I’m afraid.”
Victor beckoned to the waitress to drop two more scotches and then waved off my apology with throwaway gesture of his hand.
“No need to apologize, my boy—I share your sentiments exactly. I find the common crowd boring”
He sat back and smiled genially at me—sizing me up, I thought, and then, he chuckled quietly to himself. It was a queer laugh—the short, cynical snort of a jaded man.
I felt he weighed me and found me wanting.
But the drinks arrived just then, and my train of thought was interrupted as Victor lifted his glass in toast, “A penny for your thoughts, Gray—you seem preoccupied with weighty matters.”
“I suppose—I seem to be going through a rough patch just now.”
“Ah yes, the vicissitudes of the flesh,” he commiserated.
He was turning the tumbler of scotch over in his hand, holding it up to the light as if scrying the future in its contents.
His voice softly rumbled like a Delphic oracle, “You know, my boy, Kipling once advised his son to treat triumph and disaster as the same. Can’t say I’ve ever been able to do that in my life.”
“Well, it’s obvious your triumphs have far outweighed any failures, Victor,” I grumbled.
“Perhaps…perhaps,” he smiled ruefully. “But everything comes at a cost, Gray—surely you know that. You can’t have it all.”
“I suppose.”
“But you want it, eh?” His eyes gleamed. “We all want a little bit of heaven in the here and now.”
Again, the slight cynical chuckle as he sipped his scotch, allowing it to light a fire in him.
“I’m glad I found you and we’re having this opportunity to talk, Gray—I’ve been meaning to pass on some wisdom to you. You seem receptive—but as for the others in the firm,” he paused, as a look of disdain crossed his features, “well let’s just say it’d be like coals to Newcastle—my words would be lost on them.”
His encouragement humbled me and at the same time produced a burning sensation in my chest. I wanted to emulate him.
I wanted to be him.
“Thank you, Victor, I’m humbled you’re willing to pass along any wisdom to me—and I am certainly open to anything you care to confide. I consider it a privilege.”
Yes, yes,” he grumbled impatiently,” but you have to be on guard against privileged disclosures from anyone—including myself. I’m just a man, you know, and reserve the right to be wrong. Keep that in mind and you’ll do well.”
His disclaimer only fuelled my desire to open myself totally to him and his judgment.
Victor leaned back in his chair and eyed me narrowly.
“I’m going to disclose to you the secret of my life, Gray—if you’re willing to an indulge an old man’s nostalgia on the eve of his retirement.”
My heart leapt within me—this was my ardent desire—to learn the secret of Victor’s success.
I could only nod mutely.
Victor signalled the waitress to drop two more drinks and waited until she left before beginning his story.
At last the moment I waited for ever since I fist met Victor—pearls of wisdom from the lips of an acknowledged master....
Invaluable advice, or so I thought.
To be continued...
© 2025, John J Geddes. All rights reserved