%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
A collection of short stories inspired by the Marianas Trench album of the same name. |
| Looking up from the file in her hands, Maya Chen couldnât help but smile at the way her clientsâ attention kept drifting to the sprawling view of the Pacific Ocean. They were probably trying to see if they could spot their overpriced sailboat docked over at the Balboa Yacht Club. The lease on this Newport high-rise was ridiculously expensive, but it was important to project success for her clients. She knew nobody would trust her with their money if they thought she couldnât make a lot of your own. Hence the office, the Porsche Macan EV that she drove around in, and the Elie Tahari wardrobe she wore most days. She was financially well-off, but knew better than to try and compete with the kind of wealth that her clients had. She just needed to do enough to convince them that she had taste, class, and understood their world. âTake a look,â she said as she handed over the file. âAs discussed, weâve taken an aggressive approach to reducing your tax burden. Weâve optimized your business expenses and deductions, of course. Thatâs the baseline. On top of that weâve taken a look at the depreciation schedule for your real estate assets and recommend accelerating the depreciation for certain components to increase your deductions this year. Weâll roll that cost savings into a brand new Donor-Advised Fund that weâll create, and then will use that nonprofit entity to âredistributeâ the funds as charitable contributions to your other businesses over a period of time.â The husband thumbed through the file, an impressed look on his face. Especially as he got toward the end of the prospectus and saw the total amount heâd avoid paying in taxes. âTrey said you were the best,â he murmured. âTrey and I go way back,â Maya replied. âAnd Iâve saved him a lot of money over the years. But thatâs nothing compared to what Iâm going to be able to save you. I can work magic with a real estate empire as large and diverse as yours.â The husband looked to his wife, who gave everything an appraising look. The folder, the office, Maya herself. His wife gave him a slight nod, which he returned and then turned back to Maya. âYouâve got yourself a new client,â he said, standing and offering his hand. Maya rose from her chair and took it, shaking firmly. âAnd youâve made the right decision,â she said confidently. Iâll have my assistant send over the signatory paperwork this afternoon and then weâll get started.â After she had shown them out, Maya decided to celebrate by taking the rest of the afternoon off. She had another potential new client meeting tomorrow, but sheâd study up for that at home after sheâd enjoyed a treatment at BioSpa and enjoyed dinner for one at Gulfstream. The following day, Maya found herself uncharacteristically nervous as she waited for Sarah Martinez to arrive. While she had no doubts about her analysis or the numbers (she never did), she did have doubts about the story that she had been told. Well, that wasnât entirely true either. She didnât have doubts; she was certain that Sarah Martinez was lying to her. The appointment was at eleven oâclock and the chime on the door announced the arrival of Mayaâs guest precisely on the hour. A few moments later, Mayaâs assistant ushered the prospective client into the corner office, and Maya got her first look at Sarah Martinez. At first glance, Sarah wasnât what she expected. Wearing a discount-brand business suit and sporting a shoulder-length practical haircut, she looked more like a social worker than an heiress worth hundreds of millions. Then again, Maya knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. Half of her clients spent their entire lives trying to seem like they were worth more money than they actually were; it was a little refreshing to find someone who bucked the trend and actually tried to play down their wealth. After introductions and pleasantries, Maya got right down to business. There was no sense belaboring the point when she wasnât going to be taking on this woman as a client. âI had a chance to look everything over,â Maya began as Sarah settled back into the guest chair. âAnd, at the risk of being too blunt, I donât think I can represent you. I have several concerns about the financials youâve provided.â âOh?â Sarah asked, arching an eyebrow. âShell companies, offshore accounts in countries with lax regulations, large cash transactions... letâs not pretend like we donât both know what that means.â Sarah crossed her arms across her chest and gave Maya an expectant look. âYou said you were an heiress,â Maya replied. âFrom where Iâm sitting, Iâm assuming you inherited daddyâs drug empire, or something along those lines.â âWould it be a problem if I did?â âI donât launder money.â âYou mean you wonât launder money for me. You just do it for all the CEOs and trust fund kids that have houses along the Newport Coast.â âEverything I do is legal,â Maya shot back. âI exploit loopholes, I donât break laws.â Sarah sighed and uncrossed her arms. âItâs probably for the best,â she said, getting to her feet. âYou donât even have any idea about the scope of the assets I need help with.â â$1.2 billion,â Maya blurted out before she could stop herself. Sarah stopped in her tracks and looked at her. âI only gave you financials related to $100 million in funds.â âYeah, you forgot to mention the Cayman account with another $250 million ... plus the import/export business in Manila with estimated holdings of $850 million. Add âem all up and you get $1.2 billion in total assets.â Sarah looked genuinely surprised. âAnd thatâs another reason I wonât take you on as a client,â Maya said. âEven if I were willing to break the law and launder your money, I canât help someone who isnât honest with me about their whole financial situation.â A genuine smile spread across Sarahâs lips and she settled back into the guest chair, making herself comfortable. âI think weâre done here,â Maya said. âOh, weâre just getting started,â Sarah replied, real excitement shining in her eyes. âYouâre the first candidate Iâve met who's found their Cayman account. To say nothing of their Manila operation. Combined with a strong moral compass, youâre the whole package.â âTheir Cayman account? Their Manila operation? These arenât your financials?â âNo,â Sarah said, shaking her head. âBut you were right; they are the financials for a cartel.â âThen how do you have them?â Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out a badge. She slid it across the desk toward Maya so she could clearly read the âSpecial Agentâ designation at the bottom, and âDepartment of the Treasuryâ at the top. âMy name really is Sarah Martinez, and I work for FinCEN... the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network working under the Treasury's Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence. And Iâm actually here to talk to you about a job.â Maya just sat there, dumbstruck. Sarah leaned forward. âLook, I know youâve got a good thing going on here. Successful business, great office, enough money to live comfortably in one of the most expensive ZIP codes in the country... sounds like a pretty sweet life.â âAre you making a competitive offer?â âOh God no,â Sarah laughed out loud. âThe hours and the pay are terrible, and you get virtually no recognition for what you do outside the walls of our office.â âSo why would I want to do that?â âBecause Iâm willing to bet that for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, you were excited when you looked into these financials. This wasnât just about exploiting tax loopholes so some business bro can leave his nepo-babies a few extra million dollars rather than paying the money they actually owe to Uncle Sam. You followed a trail of breadcrumbs and uncovered a vast criminal financial network. If this were a real assignment, you would have taken a billion dollars out of a cartelâs pocket and found two assets that they might have used undetected for years to further their business interests. With this job, you get a chance to use your analytical gifts to do some good in the world.â Maya looked down at her hands folded on the desk. As soon as Sarah said it, she knew it was true. She had been comfortable for so long, she hadnât realized that she was just going through the motions. She had built a life for herself that almost anyone in the world would envy from a materialist perspective, but she wasnât challenged by the work. Her lifeâs work was helping rich people stay rich. What would it be like if she put her skills to use for something greater? âYou donât have to give me an answer now,â Sarah said as she stood up once again. âIâm just here to make an introduction to the possibility of a different life choice.â She moved for the door. âBy the way,â Sarah said almost offhandedly before she opened it. âIt was actually $1.3 billion in total assets parked by that cartel... which we seized, by the way. But donât feel too bad. You only had a week to look over everything. It took me two weeks to figure out the full picture.â Mayaâs mind raced as her incredible mind cycled through all the numbers and accounts and balance sheets and invoices she looked over in preparation for this meeting. âWhere?â she asked Sarah. âIâll tell you what,â Sarah replied. âIâll leave my card with your assistant. Iâm staying at the VEA Newport Beach just down the road until Friday morning, then I head back to D.C. If you want to grab a cup of coffee before then and talk more about the opportunity, letâs meet up and Iâll tell you where you missed $100 million. Maybe Iâll even tell you about the network of arms dealers weâre looking at now and which country theyâre using to store their inventory. Hereâs a hint... it starts with a âBâ.â And with that, Sarah opened the door and left Maya alone in her office to contemplate everything. It was several minutes before Maya even moved. When her assistant came to remind her that her next appointment would be arriving at noon, Maya snapped out of it and pulled herself together. She pulled up the requisite files and then gave her calendar a quick once over. As she looked at her appointments for the next several weeks, she started to see the patterns in her own life for the first time. Client meetings during the week, where she helped rich people get richer. They paid her well so she could enjoy the luxuries that came with a safe, comfortable life. But she couldnât find anything on her calendar that represented adventure. Or excitement. Or purpose. Just a never-ending cycle of wealth reinforcing wealth, money changing hands but ultimately just circulating around the same closed ecosystem of one-percenters. Was she really willing to give up the life she had built from the ground up, and leave it all behind for the chance to do something more noble? Maya already knew what she was going to do. Sheâd wrestle with it, but at the end of the day sheâd always felt like she was meant for something more than this. Plus, how else was she going to get an answer to where the missing $100 million was hiding in those accounts? She was already planning on reviewing all the financials again when she got home. If she couldnât figure it out on her own, she was at least going to go into her next meeting with Sarah knowing that she had turned over every stone and chased down every lead. —————————— 1,992 words Lyrics ▼ |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
