“In all seriousness, Savage,” says Tully, “and this is as a friend—you really need to loosen up. What does Ashley say about all this?”

“She’s in the box. I had to bail her out of forty grand in credit card debt last year. I call the shots now.”

“Okay,” says Tully, “There’s like, a million things wrong with that statement. You guys keep your money separate?”

“Yes.”

“She’s an admin, guy, she makes like forty grand a year.”

“And that’s her money.”

“So what did she buy to max out her credit cards?”

“Stupid shit. Kid clothes and stuff like that.”

“Um, the kids need clothes.”

“They don’t need twenty outfits.”

Tully and Johan look at each other with an expression that conveys they are getting nowhere.

“Let me ask you a question,” I begin, standing up, in my own defense. “Do you and your wife fight about money?”

“All the time,” says Tully.

“Why?”

“Because I buy shit she thinks I don’t need.”

“Like what?”

“Like, the golf trip to St. Andrews.”

“Well, if you kept your money separate, if that was your money, then you could do what you want with it, and she wouldn’t be able to say anything about it.”

“Guy, if we kept our money separate, then she wouldn’t have any, because she doesn’t work.”

“So?”

“So that’s ridiculous. She takes care of my kids. That’s worth something.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Dave is standing next to us. We hadn’t noticed him.

“Just arguing about money again,” I say. “What’s up? I thought you had to catch a plane?”

“I was running late,” he says, putting his hand on my shoulder, “so I decided to catch the next one. You got a minute?” He wants to talk to me privately. I turn towards the aisle.

“You know, Nick is really upset with you,” he begins.

“So?”

“So, you have to work with him.”

“No I don’t.”

“Savage, knock it off with the sales and trading bullshit. When you get to this level, we are all on the same team.

I sigh. The One Team One Dream speech.

“I’m not fucking around. Why don’t you spend less time trying to figure out ways to slice up the pie and more time figuring out ways to make the pie bigger.”

“Why doesn’t Nick figure out ways to make the pie bigger? His piece of the pie is pretty small.”

“We’re working on that.”

“No, you’re not. He’s an impostor. It’s a clown car over in sales. This Vinny Bag O’ Donuts act isn’t going to work for much longer. People can only go to so many Knicks games. This is Kensington, not J.T. Marlin, how did we end up with all these sweaty goons in sales? Oh wait, I know. You let Nick hire his own guys.”

“You need to work with him.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t mean to sound like a jackass, but he is beneath me. They all are, and you know it. Working with Nick would be like working with a gibbon.”