They stepped into a smaller breakout room. Julian closed the door. “I’m going to tell you something off the record,” he said. “Victoria is using the European desk as cover. The real problem is that the whole credit market is about to seize up. We’ve got exposure to a dozen illiquid positions that are going to blow up in Q1. The bonus cut isn’t punishment. It’s survival.”
He typed back: On my way. Love you.
He showered, put on a fresh Charvet shirt, and knotted his tie with hands that didn’t tremble but wanted to. Outside, the December air bit hard, but he barely felt it. The walk from his apartment to the glass tower at 85 Broad Street was a ritual he’d performed a thousand times. Today, every step felt like a drumbeat. wall street paytime