Thanks to jeremy_phillips, Knightrider, HadrianPeverell24, hxixjsgdis, Mepheister
lucart58, Kieran_Lynch, rahul14, Luicfer_2807, astolfo_the_tasty, Druidpriest and Diosazura for their power stones donations.
Second chapter today will be updated in an hour or two.
...
"Excuse me?" Judith's voice dropped back into its dangerous register. The smile vanished. "We don't cash out?"
"If we hit 'Sell' right now," Jake explained calmly, "the IRS categorizes it as a short-term capital gain. In our new tax bracket, the federal and state governments will take almost forty percent.
Also, this isnt the lowest value yet, we'vegot to hold for 6 days more"
The U.S. Tax system is less optimized and more "manual", which opens opportunities (tax strategy, timing income, deductions, etc.).
In the U.S., most people pay taxes during the year through paycheck withholding and then settle up on the annual federal filing deadline.
For tax year 2002, the IRS says the federal return and any balance due are generally due April 15, 2003.
Suddenly, the fax machine sitting on the edge of the workbench whirred to life.
A screeching tone filled the garage as a thick stack of paper began inching its way out.
Alan pulled himself up and grabbed the pages. The cover sheet had the letterhead of Evelyn's high-priced Beverly Hills law firm.
The cordless phone rang a second later. Jake hit the speaker button.
"Did you get the fax, darling?" Evelyn's voice purred through the speaker.
"I'm looking at it, Mother," Alan said, scanning the first page. His eyes widened in horror.
"Harper Family LLC? 'A Joint Venture Capital Firm'? Mother, what is this?! We aren't a venture capital firm! I crack backs for a living!"
"And you are entirely too poor to suddenly make hundreds of thousands of dollars on put options, Alan," Evelyn said smoothly. "If an E-Trade account in the name of a broke chiropractor suddenly generates millions of dollars during a historic market crash, the SEC is going to freeze the account by Friday. They will assume you are either insider trading, or laundering money for a Colombian cartel."
Alan grabbed his own throat. "Prison! They're going to send me to federal prison! You know I don't have the upper body strength for prison, Mother!"
"Oh, stop whining. That's why I had Arthur draft the LLC," Evelyn snapped. "The money isn't yours anymore, Alan. It belongs to the corporate entity. It provides a legal shield, tax write-offs, and most importantly, it keeps the federal government's grubby hands off my money. Sign the paperwork. You are now the CEO."
"I can't be a CEO!" Alan shrieked. "I get nervous returning sweaters to Macy's!"
"I'll be the Managing Director," Judith chimed in smoothly, taking the paperwork from Alan's trembling hands.
She looked at the title on the page, a slow, deeply satisfied smile spreading across her face. "Judith Harper, Managing Director of Harper Family LLC. That is going to look fantastic on a country club application."
Jake nodded in quiet approval.
He had to hand it to his grandmother; she was a shark, but she was a highly efficient one.
"Sign it, Dad," Jake said. "Grandma is right. The SEC looks for anomalies. A corporate trading account is invisible."
While still doubtful, seeing his wife and son accepting the situation, he could only let a resigned sigh out and sign the paperwork.
The next six days were a masterclass in suburban psychological warfare.
The stock was sitting at $18, but Jake's "mathematical model" demanded they wait until it hit $11.57.
For Alan, every single hour was a near-death experience.
By Thursday, the stock ticked up slightly to $18.50. Alan burst into the garage, hyperventilating, begging Jake to sell. By Friday, it dropped to $16.00, and Alan started crying tears of joy into his morning coffee.
Judith, meanwhile, had completely checked out of her life as a suburban housewife. She wasn't nervous; she was vibrating with the energy of a woman who knew exactly what she was owed.
She spent her afternoons circling items in a massive Neiman Marcus catalog with a red Sharpie and drinking white wine by 2:00 PM.
Jake, however, was living a very different nightmare.
Monday, September 23rd. He sat in the school cafeteria at recess, staring blankly at a plastic tray.
The noise of screaming fourth-graders trading Pokémon cards washed over him.
He was effectively a high-level hedge fund manager, yet his biggest immediate problem was surviving the American school system.
Tuesday, September 24th. 3:15 PM.
Alan and Judith were sitting on matching folding chairs in front of the workbench.
Alan was rhythmically bouncing his knee so hard the entire workbench was shaking.
He had chewed on his thumbnail so aggressively it looked like it had been through a woodchipper.
Judith sat perfectly still. She had a half-empty glass of Pinot Grigio in one hand and her eyes were locked onto the glowing screen like a hawk watching a field mouse.
"Jake," Alan rasped, his voice completely dry, sounding like he had just swallowed a mouthful of sawdust.
"The news... CNBC just reported that another analyst downgraded them. The bottom fell out."
Jake dropped his Ninja Turtles backpack onto the concrete floor. He walked over and stood between his parents, peering over the screen.
The green ticker for EDS was moving so fast it was blurring.
$12.40... $11.95... $11.80...11.75
"Mutual funds are capitulating. They're liquidating everything to cover their margins." Jake said
"Speak English, kid!" Alan panicked, gripping the edge of the table. "My heart is doing a salsa dance in my chest!"
"It means the big fish are drowning, Dad," Jake said, his fingers resting lightly on the computer's mouse.
"And we are the ones selling them the life rafts."
$11.65... $11.60... $11.57...
Judith stopped breathing. She leaned in so close to the screen she was practically fogging up the glass.
"Execute," Jake whispered.
He clicked the touchpad twice. 'Close All Positions.'
The trading terminal froze for an agonizing, terrifying second as the massive bulk order was routed through the E-Trade servers.
A tiny hourglass icon spun on the screen. Alan squeezed his eyes shut and began muttering a prayer. Judith's grip on her wine glass tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Then, the screen flashed. The 'Open Positions' tab emptied out completely. The text at the top of the screen refreshed.
Harper Family LLC - Total Account Balance (Liquid Cash):
$3,283,900.00
Alan let out a breath that sounded like a deflating tire. He slowly slid off the folding chair, hit the concrete floor on his knees, and rested his forehead directly against the leg of the workbench. "We did it. Oh my god... we actually did it. I'm rich. I'm a wealthy man."
Judith didn't say a word. She just stared at the number. She slowly reached out and touched the screen, right over the commas, as if making sure it was real. A slow, predatory smile spread across her face.
"Three point two million," Judith whispered. She stood up, downed the rest of her wine in a single gulp, and slammed the glass onto the workbench. "Alan, get off the floor and put on a tie. We are going to the Lexus dealership right now."
"Sit down, Mom," Jake said.