Fall 2012
Legion now had under contract its Portfolio Managers, General Partners, Chief Risk Officer, Chief Financial Officer and a Director of Investor Relations. Through Eric and Jason’s network they poached three traders from the bulge brackets. Jason pulled a couple analysts from the San Francisco Fed, through his Berkeley connections, further shoring up the nascent team. There were some sales and administrative positions to fill, along with the IT specialists they needed to keep the lights on around the clock, but they were nearly a fully functional fund at this point. At a conference in the middle of September, the team would announce that the fund was open for business and accepting outside investors.
Three days ahead of the big announcement, the entire executive team of Legion stood under the same roof, for the first time. Austin was the last one to walk through the oak doors that lead out to the Lanesborough Hotel’s Garden Room. It was one of the very few remaining cigar bars in London since the 2007 indoor smoking ban. The hotel’s location in Knightsbridge, across from Hyde Park, cultivated a well-heeled clientele, so the obnoxiously casual group of Americans stood out. Austin pulled back a leather armchair and plopped into it like a sack of potatoes.
“Glad you boys got here early and snagged a table, there’s a line forming outside like you wouldn’t believe.”
“We were here on time,” Gavin looked at his watch, “you my friend, are 23 minutes late.”
Austin brushed off the comment, clearly feeling the palliative effect of several in-flight beverages.
“They got a good selection of whiskey?” he asked.
Rohan slid the menu over, “The finest. But for this occasion, we were thinking a bottle of brandy.
Distillerie du Peyrat XO to go with the Macanudos? It’s the only organic cognac on the market, right up your alley, Austin.”
“Fuck you.”
“Now, now boys, let’s save the lovefest for after.” Eric said, as Jason slapped him five.
They filled their glasses and lit the cigars before Gavin cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention.
“It amazes me that we’re all here today, and as much as I am tempted, I won’t give an emotional speech,” he began. “So instead, we’ll jump right into it. Talk about the vision, the roles, and the plan. We’ll keep it high level.”
Austin looked bored and Gavin leaned across the patio table to smack his knee, “Oy, pay attention you drunkard. You’ve gotta write up the press material for the conference.”
Rohan sat unworried, Austin was at his best in this twilight of drunken stages. Eric and Jason both leaned forward on their shared sofa, at attention as Gavin began.
“Legion, won’t be your daddy’s hedge fund, as you can probably guess from the cast of characters we’ve got sitting around the table. We only have some small time investors and our own money to start. But eventually we’ll develop a track record and money will pour in.”
Eric was the first to interrupt, “So, to be completely accurate, we’re a family office, not a hedge fund.”
“Thank you, Eric,” Gavin continued, “That’s right, but the reason money will quickly pour in, is because our fund will be the only investment vehicle that yield-starved institutional investors will have to gain exposure to bitcoin. Literally, that’s it. No other fund has come close to devoting the R&D hours I have in setting up the architecture, the security infrastructure, the whole backbone of Legion.” He looked for doubters in the audience, seeing none, he continued, “There aren’t many experienced bitcoin developers in finance, I’ll guarantee you that. And that is why when we make this announcement, we will leave everyone out there scrambling.”
“If bitcoin appreciate.” Eric couldn’t resist throwing in the caveat.
“Again, thank you for the interruption, Eric. Yes, if they appreciate, which we will use every trick in your market manipulation manual to ensure happens. It’s a relatively illiquid market, with plenty of novice speculators rushing in, should be a lot easier than what you were doing at Virtu. Now, we’ll need to describe the strategy in the prospectus but we don’t want to be backed into any corners. We need room to maneuver. Thoughts?”
They all looked at each other, before Rohan coughed and spoke, “Uhm… we could say we’re a global macro event-driven fund, and that we make counterintuitive trades, let’s see… based on our belief in the law of unintended consequences that central banks seem hell-bent on invoking?”
“Bravo. Rohan, You’d make Don Draper blush,” Austin said sarcastically, “I suggest we keep it a little less confrontational. Something like, give investors an exposure to bitcoin with a hybrid crypto-financial team. Avoid negative convexity and tail risk through diversification outside traditional allocations, yada, yada. Yeah I think I got it, I’ll turn over some copy to you guys tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” Gavin replied, his faith in Rohan’s hire semi-restored. “Trades will be executed by Eric and his team, naturally, but everyone in this group can bring any ideas to the table. Yes, even you Austin. We’ll discuss at our daily roundtable and then Rohan and I will make a decision and submit to Eric’s team. They’ll size the trade, determine duration, so on. I’ll directly manage our exposure to bitcoin, especially the long term holdings. And Jason, well you’re going to make sure investors and regulators are happy, make the risks look… what’s the word?”
“Measured?” Jason offered.
“Exactly.”
Eric finished the Cognac remaining in his glass and placed it on the table with a satisfied sigh, “Well now that that’s settled. What’re we doing for this conference?”
“Glad you asked,” Austin replied, “Rohan, I know it’s tight but you’re the one with the most public exposure here, think you can have a presentation ready in 2 days? I bought you a 30 minute speaking slot.”
“You’re shitting me. You never told me we bought a speaking sponsorship. I thought we were just going to have a booth or something.”
“How are we going to make a big splash with a booth in Row 5D? Anyway, you have 48 hours, come up with something good.”
Gavin ignoring Rohan’s protests, raised his glass. They gave a cheers and continued the casual banter for a while longer. Jason eventually commented on the brandy’s “palate of intense nutmeg and candied plum,” which Gavin took as a sign to wrap things up before it could get any worse. In his mind, there was a desperate futility in expressing verbally the palpable sensations produced by a good, strong drink. The meeting was adjourned and in another few minutes the waiter brought the bill. They closed out the tab and got up to leave when Gavin reached out to lay a hand on Rohan’s shoulder.
“Hey bud, can you hold up a sec.”
Rohan gave Eric, Jason and Austin a handshake and a slap on the back as they made their way out, before turning back to Gavin, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“So we still have a few positions to fill. You’re going to have the sales team under you so, if you meet good people you should be actively recruiting. We also need an assistant and office admin. I think I’ve got a good candidate.”
“Oh yeah? Who is she?”
Gavin paused to deliver the response in a forced monotone, “She’s back at the hotel, why don’t you come meet her.”
He should have realized how that would sound to Rohan.
“You son of a bitch! We’re going to casting couch the admin? Jesus, you’re a new man!”
Gavin knew it was the Cognac, and yet his blood boiled, “No Rohan, we’re not going to have a threesome with my fucking girlfriend. I wanted you to approve of her before I introduced her to the team because I need you to be on my side. They can’t think this is nepotism.”
“Your girlfriend? How is that not nepotism? And since when do you have a girlfriend?”
“Well, about 6 months now.”
In disbelief, Rohan asked, “And how’d you meet this girl?”
“Well, I met her in Vienna. We reconnected over Facebook.”
Rohan was stunned, “Facebook… un-fucking-real. Gavin Folsom meets his girlfriend over social media. Someone wake me the fuck up.”
Putting his cellphone in his pocket and simultaneously grabbing Rohan by the upper sleeve of his smoking jacket, Gavin said, “Pull yourself together, the Uber’s almost here.”
When they arrived at the boutique hotel in St. James, Rohan peered outside the cab window and saw a Union Jack flying above a sign that read Dukes Hotel.
“You think you’re some kind of wannabe 007, staying at Dukes?”
“James Bond is a fictional character, it was Ian Fleming who used to drink here you idiot. Supposedly they make a damn good martini.”
“If you order something shaken, not stirred, I’ll punch you in the mouth. Seriously.”
They ploddingly got out of the car, and the increased intoxication from the rush of blood to the head made Gavin have second thoughts: maybe this wasn’t the right way to handle the situation. This could end badly.
They walked up to a door at the end of a long hallway carpeted in pleasant warm hues. The lighting was dim, causing Gavin to fumble slightly with the room key.
“Gimme that, you slovenly fool,” Rohan said, grabbing the room key out of his hands and jamming it into the reader.
He thought for a second, wait, slovenly wasn’t the right word in the situation was it? No, it must be something else he was looking for. He was lamenting the curse of the writer, when his eyes fell on a pretty brunette sitting on the chaise at the foot of the bed. Gavin showed good taste. The beautiful Eastern European woman that sat in front of him would make a fine office administrator. He broke the silence.
“Sorry dear, Gavin can be rude sometimes and forget to make introductions. I’m Rohan, what’s your name?”
“I know you Rohan. I take it you don’t remember me?”
He squinted in confusion, attempting to peel back the drunken haze to recognize the face. Under the makeup, the cocktail dress, and the new dark hair was the girl he met in Vienna. Rohan looked at Gavin, who could only muster an embarrassed look on his face.
“This is a joke right? You can’t be dating her. The last time I talked to her she thought she was going to change the world by getting people to turn off their lights when they left the house!”
Mila cleared her throat.
Before she could get out a word, Gavin interjected, “She’s changed a lot since then, Rohan. Give her a fucking chance. And don’t talk like she’s not in the room for chrissake, show some respect.”
Rohan recovered his composure and chuckled, “Wow. Just wow. You’re dating a girl I used to bang and now you expect me to approve her hiring as an office admin. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Look I knew you’d be upset, and that’s why I wanted to tell you separately. I really want you on board with this,” Gavin gave Rohan a pleading look. The first in their entire time of having known each other.
Rohan couldn’t help but laugh, “Of course man, of course. Sorry. But I have one condition: I don't have the funds to hire a secretary, so we have to share.”
"Fuck that. I'll hire you one myself," Gavin recoiled at the thought.
"Nope, I think it's more efficient if we share. That's my condition. Take it or leave it."
Milica found it an opportune moment to pay Gavin back for his failure to inform Rohan in Colombia.
"Rohan's right. There's no point hiring two of me," she gave Rohan a smile that lasted longer than it needed to. "So it's settled?"
They all stood around awkwardly for a second. Gavin nodded in defeat. Normalcy eventually returned to the conversation and comfortable that they had Rohan’s approval, Gavin indicated it was getting late.
Rohan exchanged awkward hugs with them both before leaving the suite. Walking down the hall, a strange feeling came over him that his past was trying to overtake his present. Must be the alcohol he thought, before shaking it off and heading to the hotel bar. It wouldn’t be right of him to leave without trying one of their famous martinis.