[Chapter 48: A Proud Wall Street Elite]
Having all that money just sitting in a bank account--
In 1990s, as someone who had been transmigrated with knowledge of what was to come, he knew the country was heading into a golden era.
Keeping cash just so it could earn a tiny bit of interest at the bank felt like a waste.
He wanted to invest in big-name companies he'd heard about in his previous life -- Apple, Microsoft, and others.
Microsoft was stable; its stock price steadily rose. That was a safe bet.
Apple, though... its stock was struggling. Orlando recalled that Apple's stock only took off after the iPhone was released -- around 2007-08.
So that was still almost two decades away.
Naturally, Apple stock wasn't something to buy right now.
---
"Why stash money in banks? That's just lining their pockets!"
June 13th.
Madonna had wrapped up her tour in Chicago.
Usually, she'd head to sunny Los Angeles to rest up for a few days before prepping for the next leg.
But those days were gone.
As soon as Chicago's show ended, the pop queen rushed back to New York.
Same Four Seasons Hotel. Same room where Orlando had written Counting Stars.
After a wild night, Madonna, breathless but full of energy, declared the above.
At her peak, her physical condition was phenomenal.
No wonder she could squat sixteen times in a row and still sing flawlessly with steady breath control.
With that kind of stamina, Orlando thought she could single-handedly cultivate ten acres of farmland.
"Beverly Hills mansions, Manhattan office buildings, Miami land -- all prime real estate!" she said.
"And stocks, government bonds, gold -- you can have a financial advisor put together a portfolio. Just in case your entertainment career tanks someday, you've got a fallback. Oh, and do some charity while you're at it -- that way you build a 'saintly' image and get tax breaks. That's a win-win!"
Orlando nodded vigorously, soaking up her advice.
After all, whether it was his original self or who this self, he started as an ordinary person from the bottom.
Without the revelations and his future knowledge, he would never have known anything about investing in two hundred lifetimes.
Madonna was a seasoned pro -- wealth at her fingertips, a veteran of the industry, and still on fire after all these years. He trusted her advice.
To repay her kindness, the second time around Orlando doubled down on the electricity. He also extended the duration.
By next round, he doubled everything again.
Going any longer, he worried, might cause problems.
Madonna, who was full of energy, was now twitching all over and stars flashed before her eyes...
---
The next day, after seeing the exhausted Madonna off, Orlando called his wealthy lover who was still in Washington, D.C.
Two wealthy women, Madonna and Daisy -- both had been tremendous help to him.
"Darling, I'm here in D.C., and you're in Manhattan. Manhattan might be short on a few things, but not investment banks or financial institutions. If you want your wealth to grow, start there."
"I don't trust anyone but you, Daisy. I really miss you."
"Ha, really? Well..." She teased a bit, though Daisy had warned him not to say too much on the phone -- eavesdropping technology was advanced these days.
"I put much of my investment funds in Goldman Sachs. I think they're pretty good," Daisy said.
"If you want, I can make a call for you. But...," she paused, "this year's economic climate is shaky. If you're investing, be cautious."
"Shaky?"
Orlando was puzzled.
Isn't the Red Bear set to collapse next year?
Once it's down, America will feast on the fallout and take off flying again, right?
So why was his wealthy lover so cautious?
Not having any financial knowledge of these time period, he earnestly asked for advice.
"Signs of fatigue showed up early this year," Daisy rattled off economic jargon. Clearly, she was an elite in America's upper class -- well-versed in politics and finance.
"Consumer activity is shrinking, market confidence is down, and there's a haze of gloom. The second quarter GDP isn't out yet, but the first quarter dropped to 1.2%. The Federal Reserve's rate hikes did little. Corporate profits are generally declining. Plus, the Middle East is a powder keg, ready to explode anytime..."
Orlando partially understood but grasped the seriousness of the Middle East situation.
He had made it a habit to read newspapers and watch the news daily -- not just entertainment gossip like before, but major papers and media covering the society and global finance.
And transmigrating, he already knew that before the Red Bear fell next year, a major storm would erupt in the desert region.
---
A few days later.
In Goldman Sachs' penthouse client lounge overlooking much of Manhattan, Orlando was greeted by Brand Peterson, their private client manager.
Brand, recommended by Daisy, was impeccably dressed, with a polished smile and sharp, calculating eyes.
"Mr. Keller, it's an honor to serve you," Brand said confidently. "Goldman's core mission is 'client interests first.' Rest assured, we'll do everything to protect and grow your wealth."
After his opening lines, Brand paused and looked at Orlando's handsome face -- one even seasoned Wall Street elites had been seeing nonstop in newspapers and on TV for months.
Grinning, Brand added, "Goldman often serves high-profile clients like you and other celebrities; our confidentiality is among the best in the world. So... can you tell me what kind of investments you prefer? Stocks, mutual funds, other securities? No matter what it is, we can accommodate. We even create bespoke financial derivatives for clients!"
Brand was enthusiastic, eager.
He had prepared meticulously for this meeting. He bought all of Orlando's record sales -- well, there was only one single. He read every serious media article about Orlando. He tried to understand Orlando's personality, preferences, and habits.
The reason was simple.
Whether or not Daisy introduced him, Orlando was now a wealthy client. Many media outlets reported he was likely to be the highest-earning star this year.
The Wall Street Journal said he'd made at least $30 million in less than four months since debut.
From Brand's perspective, Orlando was a rich client.
Considering his background and circles, Brand assumed Orlando wasn't particularly savvy.
Even before meeting, Brand had drafted dozens of contracts to get Orlando to sign on various investment portfolios.
Of course, Goldman Sachs wasn't a scam. These portfolios were real and likely to yield positive returns. Otherwise, they'd ruin both Goldman's and Brand's reputation.
The only catch: compared to regular investments, these portfolios charged slightly higher fees and commissions and traded more frequently...
To Brand's surprise, Orlando's answer was unlike any of the dozen or so expected.
"Can I tour Goldman Sachs? Or even Wall Street itself? Mr. Peterson, can you be my guide to Wall Street today?"
Damn!
Brand was stunned.
What a ridiculous request!
He was a graduate from an Ivy League school with a postdoctoral degree in finance -- a Wall Street veteran with fifteen years of experience.
He was a financial elite, not some cheap tour guide from a no-name school!
Yet, of course--
He accepted.
"Of course," Brand's smile stayed bright. "Goldman Sachs will fulfill all your requests!"
*****
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