The Day Trader

Im not a religious man, but I make the sign of the cross over my heart just in case. The way I do every time I start. After all, the next few seconds could change my life forever.Employees arent supposed to use company Internet access for personal reasons, but lots of us violate the policy and no ones ever been fired for it. Jesus, they only pay me thirty-nine thousand dollars a year to be an assistant sales rep for retail paper products in the mid-Atlantic region. So the way I see it, I deserve a perk or two along the way. Ive dedicated eleven years to this company, but my wife and I still live paycheck to paycheck, even though she has a full-time job too.Images flash across my computer screen, and I quickly reach the home page of the on-line brokerage firm I use to trade my small stock portfolio. As I enter the information required to access my account, adrenaline surges through me, like it always does when I get to this point. Its as if Ive bought a lotto ticket with a fifty-million-dollar jackpot, and I have that lucky feeling tingling in my veins.Name:  Augustus McKnightPassword:  CardinalAccount Number:  YTP1699My fingertips race across the keyboard as I close in on my target, and I pause for a sip of coffee and a deep breath. The deal is only a few screens away, and Im addicted to the anticipationso I prolong it. Its one of the few things I look forward to these days. This morning, as I guided my rusting Toyota through bumper-to-bumper northern Virginia traffic and thick summer humidity, I had a premonition that today would be different. That something was going to interrupt my daily grind. But Ive had that feeling before.Theres a sharp knock and my eyes shift to the office doorway. Standing there is my boss, Russell Lake, vice president of all paper product sales. Russell is a slender man with thinning brown hair, a full mustache, and a pasty complexion. He leans into my cramped office, one hand on the doorknob, peering at me over wire-rimmed glasses. And I stare back like a boy caught digging in the cookie jar just before dinner.Good morning, Augustus.I can tell by the intensity in Russells eyes that hes trying to figure out what Im doing on my computer, but Ive positioned it so someone standing at the door cant see the screen. Hello, I say warily. You never know what hes up to.Up with the eagles this morning?What do you mean by that?Its only eight oclock, he says sarcastically, tapping the cracked crystal face of the same Timex he wore the day he interviewed me more than a decade ago. Hes always been sarcastic. Thats just the way he is. Arent you usually crawling out of bed about now?Im in by seven thirty almost every morning, sometimes earlier, but theres no point in arguing. Like most bosses, Russell has a convenient memory.What are you working on? he asks.Cold fusion.Very funny, he says, moving into the office. Tell me the truth.Im tempted to flick off the computer, but that would be a dead giveaway Im doing something wrong. Im updating a sales report for central Virginia, I say, hoping he doesnt walk around to my side of the desk. Nothing exciting.Checking your stock portfolio again?Russell blurs before me. What?He settles into a chair on the other side of my desk, an annoying smile tickling the corners of his mouth. I know all about your day trading. He snickers. Youre on that computer at least two hours a day doing research, checking quotes, and placing orders. Russell removes his glasses and cleans the dirty lenses with his striped polyester tie. Im willing to look the other way at a little indiscretion, but sales in your region are way down. A couple of weeks ago senior management wanted to know what was going on. I defended you as basically a good employee, but I had to tell them about you

Author / Editor: Frey, Stephen

Category: Suspense & Thrillers

ISBN: 9780345453938

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