Chapter 264: The Wolf of Wall Street
Chapter 264: The Wolf of Wall Street
Eric sighed. “It’s hard to explain in just a sentence or two. Anyway, they somehow ended up together. Right now, I’m just thankful they haven’t burned my house down over the past few days.”
Jeffrey burst out laughing again on the other end of the phone before saying, “You must be having a rough time at home. It’s almost dinner time now. Why don’t you come over and have a meal here? You can also get to know Chris.”
Eric had only called out of boredom to chat for a bit and did not want to disturb Jeffrey’s family time. He hesitated before asking, “Would that really be appropriate?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s a holiday. The more people, the better. My place is usually quiet all year round anyway. It’d be even livelier if you came over. Oh, and if you want, you can bring those two girls along too.”
Eric thought that in front of outsiders, the two girls would probably stop bickering like cats and dogs, so he agreed. “Then I’ll head over right now?”
“Hurry up and come. Alright, hanging up now, the oven’s still on in the kitchen.”
Without waiting for Eric’s response, Jeffrey immediately hung up.
Eric put down the receiver, returned to the bedroom to change clothes, then headed downstairs.
Drew and Aniston, who had been fighting over control of the television, immediately became wary when they saw Eric come downstairs dressed formally.
“Eric, where are you going?” the two girls asked in unison.
Eric deliberately put on an unhappy expression and said, “You two are way too noisy. I’ve decided to spend Thanksgiving somewhere else.”
“No!”
The two girls instantly jumped up from the sofa and rushed to Eric’s side, each tightly grabbing one of his arms. Then they glared at each other before once again speaking in unison.
“It’s all your fault!”
Eric rubbed his temples. “Alright, stop arguing. Jeffrey just called and invited me over for dinner. Which one of you is coming?”
“Me!”
Again, perfectly synchronized.
“Okay. You have ten minutes to change clothes. Whoever drags their feet gets left behind.”
A flurry of stomping footsteps sounded out as Drew and Aniston disappeared around the staircase corner together.
…
After driving to Jeffrey’s house, Eric rang the doorbell. The door was quickly opened from inside.
A young man wearing a meticulously formal suit, who resembled Jeffrey somewhat but was noticeably taller, looked over the three people outside the door, revealed a faint smile, and extended his hand.
“Hello, Mr. Williams.”
“Just call me Eric,” Eric said as he shook hands with the young man. “I’m glad to finally meet you too, Chris.”
Chris Hansen nodded politely toward the two girls as well, accepted the bottle of wine Eric handed over, and said, “Please come in.”
The three followed Chris Hansen inside.
Jeffrey’s house looked much the same as before—or rather, even tidier than the last time Eric had visited, likely because his son had returned home.
It was Drew and Aniston’s first time visiting Jeffrey’s house. Seeing the apartment, which clearly did not match Jeffrey’s current wealth, both girls looked surprised. Aniston managed to hold back her thoughts, but the little girl spoke bluntly as usual.
“Jeffrey’s already so rich. Why does he still live here?”
Eric turned and glared at the little girl, warning her not to talk nonsense. Chris Hansen, however, took the initiative to explain.
“My father’s nostalgic. He can’t bear to move away.”
“Oh,” the girl nodded lightly, not daring to say anything more.
The three sat down in the living room. Jeffrey soon emerged from the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist. Seeing Eric and the others, he said, “Eric, make yourselves comfortable for a while. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Need any help?” Eric quickly asked.
Jeffrey shook his head. “No need, no need. Emily’s helping me already. You all just chat with Chris.”
After saying that, Jeffrey returned to the kitchen again.
Chris Hansen smiled awkwardly and explained, “When I was seven, I messed around in the kitchen and got splashed by hot oil. Ever since then, my dad hasn’t let me near a kitchen again.”
Eric laughed in understanding and gave the two little girls a look. They obediently got up and headed toward the kitchen on their own.
Several sounds of Jeffrey yielding came from inside the kitchen, along with the surprised voice of another woman that sounded very pleasant to the ear. Soon, the murmured conversation quieted down.
The two men in the living room looked at each other and both smiled.
In truth, Eric had been observing Chris Hansen from the very beginning. Up to now, he had not sensed any sort of “academic genius” aura from Chris. He looked nothing like the kind of person Jeffrey had occasionally described—someone who had earned full scholarships for all four years of college and now worked at one of the Big Four investment banks, Morgan Stanley.
The only conclusion Eric could draw from the detail that Chris still wore his suit impeccably even while indoors was that he was either a perfectionist or somewhat rigid by nature.
Of course, the former seemed more likely.
“Eric, what are you thinking about?” Chris suddenly asked.
Since he was Jeffrey’s son, Eric naturally felt a bit closer to him and answered honestly, “Jeffrey mentioned that you work at Morgan Stanley. I was wondering why you don’t seem to have any aura of a ‘Wolf of Wall Street.’”
Chris froze briefly, then smiled and asked, “Eric, then what do you think a so-called ‘Wolf of Wall Street’ should look like?”
Eric thought for a moment before replying, “At the very least, they should seem aggressive. But the way you look, you resemble a meticulous researcher working in some scientific institute.”
Chris shook his head.
“Eric, you’re wrong. The more aggressive the so-called ‘Wolves of Wall Street’ are, the less aggressive they appear on the surface. You can look up photos of famous Wall Street investment banking executives. Almost all of them look utterly ordinary, the kind of people who disappear into a crowd.”
This was the first time Eric had heard such a viewpoint, so he asked curiously, “Why do they do that?”
“Because it makes it easier to disguise themselves, numb their opponents, and lower the other party’s guard.”
Eric nodded thoughtfully. “Right, Chris, what exactly is your job?”
“Whatever makes money.”
Eric laughed along with him before asking, “If Firefly wanted to go public someday, could I come to you?”
Hearing that question, Chris slightly restrained his smile and said, “Eric, whether or not you’re joking with that question, if Firefly ever does go public, you absolutely must let me handle it. You know as well as I do what the name Firefly means to me. I want to see it develop even better.”
Seeing Chris speak so seriously, Eric also nodded solemnly.