Friend or Foe? Chapter 1

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Fall in New York, the season of inspiration for every poet, high fashion coats on the runway and leaf strewn sceneries accompanied by the chilly breeze. As the green summer collapses into a cascade of red, gold and brown falling leaves, it marks the end of a rally in the financial markets.

Meanwhile on Wall Street, September has earned it's reputation as the worst performing month historically in the stock market. Prices on the trading screen mirror the transition to fall as the stocks start blinking red, followed by the drop in value.

It is a common sight to have my eyes concretely glued to the screen on the first Friday of every month. Data on Non farm payroll and unemployment rates are about to be released in an hour. There is a close watch on the job data today as August ended on a high note. Post the vigorous bull run, prices are no longer undervalued, instead borderline expensive.

A hint of uncertainty or a whisper of lamentable news can send prices tumbling down, spreading fear like a disease across the markets. This, is precisely why I love my job as a hedge fund manager, hardly a dull day at work. The stock market is like a lover, a passionate and capricious one. A man who keeps you on your toes, he is moody and volatile on a bear market. However, when he switches to a bull market, he is withal doting and profoundly generous.

Dating the stock market is an everyday affair, always needy and demanding of your full attention. A contributing factor as to why I've been single for 5 years by now. My dating life is scheduled around economic calendars. Additionally, I have imposed specific times when phone calls are restricted, for example 7.30am to 4.30pm, a concept that all men out of the industry could never fathom.

The other problem of mine? I get bored terribly easily, making it difficult for a guy to keep my attention for long. It's near impossible to find anyone else that gives you the same amount of thrill and excitement that the market exudes.

Standing at 5ft 7, with a petite figure, long dark brown hair, fair skinned, large doe eyes and soft features, it wasn't as if I fared terribly on the physical side. I simply find dating to be tiresome and boring. Especially if it requires effort in search of topics to talk about. Even if I do 'date', the men will realise that 'dating' a woman whom infrequently needs you except for the rare occasional stand in dates isn't fulfilling enough for their male ego. Which leads me back to the drawing board for my dating life.

Even so, I wasn't the slightest bit bothered by my lacklustre relationship affairs at present. Alas, women like me don't intend to settle. Should I ever fall in love one day, it has to be a mad romance.

It is 8.30am now, data has just been released. Though it wasn't weak, neither were the figures phenomenal. "Here's your coffee, Brooke" says Brandon, my trusty assistant placing my morning addiction in front of me.

"Thanks, you're the best. Also, send out a memo to start trimming positions. Judging from the sentiment, markets aren't too pleased with the uninspiring numbers", I replied taking a grateful sip of my coffee. Nodding obediently, he gets to work right away. Over the years, he is now well accustomed to the urgency of time.

At 9.10am sharp, Sarah my best friend calls. She, for one, could never grasp the concept of not calling during non sanctioned hours, or rather she never abides by it. "Shoot, you've got 60 seconds. Starting now", I answered.

"What a pleasant good morning to you too", she replies drily, "It's Fashion Week, what else can be more important?".

I chuckled, "I almost forgot, see you after work".

"Wait. What are you going to wear?", Sarah continues, ignoring her allocated 60 seconds.

"I'll be wearing a frown if I can't sell at a good price, your time is up", I grinned hanging up the phone.

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