
Copyright 2017, 2020, M.G. Crisci
All rights reserved,
Including the right of reproduction
In whole or in part in any form
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents
are either the products of the author’s imagination
or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.
Cover design Good World Media
Edited by Holly Scudero
Manufactured in the United States of America
Library of Congress 2010929929
Copyright No. 1-414380231
ISBN 978-0-9663-3606-1

Also by M.G. Crisci
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Call Sign, White Lily
Donny and Vladdy
Ergonia. Land of the Giant Ants
Indiscretion
Mary Jackson Peale
Only in New York
Papa Cado
Papa Cado’s Book of Wisdom
Project Zebra
Salad Oil King
Save the Last Dance
She Said. He Said.
Still Standing
The King of Violins
This Little Piggy
Learn more at
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1.
When the phone rang, I had no idea my life was about to change forever.
A cheery southern drawl asked, “Y’all Martin Ruff?”
“What do you want?” I responded brusquely, assuming it was a cold sales call.
“I’m Marge Jamerson of American Financial Advisors [AFA]. My boss, Peter Maroney, spotted you on LinkedIn and wanted to meet. Thought you might be able to help him.”
“You tell Pete I’m good—have an investment advisor and plenty of insurance.”
Marge pushed back. “Mr. Ruff, you got me wrong. Mr. Maroney is one of Connecticut’s successful young entrepreneurs.”
“Okay, Marge, give me a hint,” I said sarcastically. “What does Mr. Maroney do?”
“You need to talk to him directly.” A phone rang in the background. “Sorry, Mr. Ruff, I’ve got to take this call. Back in two shakes.”
I decided to hang up. Marge beat me to the punch. “Sorry about that; as you can appreciate, with 2,000 licensees in three time zones the phones never stop ringing. So, can we set a time?”
The “2,000” caught my attention. I decided, What the hell.
~
My first Pete conversation took place in his modest office in an industrial park overlooking Bridgeport Harbor, about fifteen miles south of snooty Southport, Connecticut.
The conversation quickly denigrated into a sparring match between titanic egos. I brought a one-page bio and an attitude. I wasn’t selling; I was exploring. After all, based on the internet research I had completed, I had more big-time business experience than Pete and his partners combined.
“So, who are you?” said this rough-at-the-edges, athletically configured, forty-something guy with an out-of-date flat crew cut and a red, white, and blue American-flag tie.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” I retorted.
“Nobody talks to me that way,” said Pete, standing up and leaning by the conference table.
I tilted my chair back and returned the salvo. “Nobody talks to me that way, either.”
Pete laughed. “Looks like you don’t back down from a good fight.”
He glanced at my bio for about 30 seconds and then did a complete 360.
As I was about to learn, Pete — a well-read security salesman with a high school education and sound business instincts — had a grandiose but straightforward vision: worldwide leadership in safe-money asset allocations
He realized that most broker-dealers merely processed and supervised buy-sell security orders placed by their licensed independent financial advisors. As per guidelines established by the Securities and Exchange Commission, they received a modest fee per transaction.
Pete’s concept was to license the best of America’s 1.1 million independent financial advisors and help them grow their practices using AFA investment and insurance products, along with its next generation lead and sales closing techniques. Pete offered the marketing and sales services as a “free added value,” which permitted Pete to charge higher transaction fees to licensed advisors. His ultimate goal: become America’s number one broker-dealer in total trading volume and net transactional revenues.
His five-year plan was to acquire twenty of the most profitable licensed firms, aggregate them operationally by removing administrative duplication, and then launch and cash out via an initial public financing (or initial public offering, IPO). “My backup is to sell the new network to a strategically-aligned financial services company, such as Met Life or Northwestern Mutual, that has the appetite and the means.”
“How’s the plan coming,” I asked.
“Moving in the right direction, just not as fast as I’d like.”
“Why?”
“Our marketing programs are running out of steam,” Pete replied, “and our in-house business consultants need a swift boot in the ass! Some are good; some are bad; some are willing to embrace new ideas; some wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it came up and banged them on the head.”
Pete paused. “Now that I’ve put my cards on the table, how about showing a few of yours?”
“Dad was a wholesale butcher who made a bunch of money with his cousins on the black-market during World War II. He decided he wanted better for his only son. We moved to Park Avenue — far from the family, if you know what I mean. I graduated from Penn undergraduate and got my master's at Wharton. That pedigree, my marks, and a few connections landed me on Wall Street, first as a trader at Merrill Lynch, which eventually led me to deal-making at Goldman Sachs.
“Within five years, I gained an unjustified, over-publicized reputation as a ‘kingmaker.’ Someone who could spot undervalued companies, advise them on how to grow, and design exit strategies that made the management wealthy. I made a bunch of money in the process and decided to strike out on my own.
“I started two public companies from scratch by consolidating undervalued companies in the same business space. My first foray made me wealthy. Maybe a $150 million net worth on paper? The second venture not only destroyed my paper wealth, but also left me $10 million in the hole. I sucked it up, went back to work at Goldman, paid everybody off rather than declare