Buy and Hold $$$ Part 7 Risk and the Time Horizon

Sylvia

After Victor walked away, leaving me sobered and depleted, I ordered a double scotch, and felt its fire warm me all the way down.

So much for bloody old men and their wisdom, I grumbled and ordered another and was on my third double when Tess and Sylvia arrived.

Both women were overjoyed to see me, but Sylvia seemed unusually friendly.

She actually smiled at me. “Thank God you didn’t leave, Gray—we’ve had a horrid night, but I know you’ll make things better.”

I sat back and smiled genially at her—sizing her up, and then, chuckled quietly. It was a queer laugh—the short, cynical snort of a jaded man.

Perhaps Victor taught me something—to not place my trust in anyone—certainly not women.

My resolution lasted through the night and into the next month, but it was damnably frustrating because I was obsessed with Sylvia and guilty about using Tess to get close to her.

Tormented and faithless—that about summed me up.

I tried to put her behind me, but she still haunted and inflamed me.

The moment I decided I was done once and for all, the flint of my passion struck the stone of her indifference and I was back in her thrall.

The irony is, no one knew, least of all, Sylvia. I’ve strung out this fantasy through numberless Moons like pearls on a chain—it’s my lucid dream of possessing her one fine day. Admittedly, the possibility is remote, but I lie to myself, believing it’s subject to change.

I know it’s futile –she’s twenty-two and I’m twice her age.

She’s oblivious, indifferent and maddeningly blasé—inaccessible as the stars—and that’s precisely why I fantasize about winning her and displaying her as a trophy on my arm.

I turn back from brooding over the Toronto skyline and toss an engraved invitation onto my desk—it’s from Victor Goldman—now completely retired, inviting the staff to his 70th birthday party at his Muskoka lodge.

I shake my head sadly. I miss him—the only hero I ever had. The women in the firm still refer to him admiringly as The Most Interesting Man In The World—and that at seventy! Lucky bastard. I hate his guts but envy him. He wouldn’t be in my position. Not Victor. He’d act decisively and sweep Sylvia off her feet—jet away her away to the south of France and she’d be his kept woman. No doubt about that.

Me? I’m some pitiful Prufrock wondering if I dare disturb the universe, afraid Sylvia might laugh at me with her friends.

But I’m not going through some mid-life crisis. Sylvia’s friend, Tess, only a year older than her, adores me. She’s pretty, and vivacious, but compared to Sylvia—well, she’s not in her league.

It seems Victor destroyed some of my dreams and brought me back to reality with a thump, but I still think I can manage to woo Sylvia despite the fact I’m twice her age.

Some might say it’s the vain fantasy of a middle-aged bachelor who’s reaching for the stars, but I think it’s possible.

Male menopause? I think not.

© 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved

Photo