Wealth Management

I’m usually the first one on my block to salt the the sidewalk. But last winter I had a client come in for a meeting a little before 5. The meeting soon became a celebration. While we were toasting, the temperature outside dropped and the rain turned to ice. My client took one step out the front door and fell flat on his back. He hit his head and slipped a disc.

We’re small, at least by finance standards. Why would anyone bother to hack us? At least that’s what I used to think. Then I found out why: because it’s easy. I can’t believe I was so naïve. Someone, somewhere hacked our system and held our client accounts for ransom: $300,000. I took out a loan and paid it. Still trying to calculate the cost to our reputation.

My partner and I never thought we’d become another wealth management stereotype. But here we are, nine managers. Seven of them men. Still, I was really surprised to find out Ryan had been making comments to Nina—trying to get her to go out with him. We gave him a written warning, but I guess it was too little too late. Now we’re facing a sexual harassment suit.

One of my managers was on their way to a client when some new truck driver drifted across the double yellow line. She swerved to avoid him and sideswiped another car before skidding into the retaining wall. She ended up with a severe concussion, amongst other things and has been out for weeks.

Providing a company car has really helped tip the scale when it comes to recruitment. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the larger firms, it’s to never underestimate the power of a shiny new thing. Unfortunately, financial advisors aren’t the only ones who appreciate a new car. Max’s company car was stolen from right in front of a client’s office.

Growing up, my uncle was a paramedic. He always had some horror story for us. I guess he made a lasting impression because to this day I always make sure everything is up to code: electrical, sprinklers, fire exits, whatever. Anyway, turns out sometimes things just happen. Like last year when a pipe in our sprinkler system burst. Computers, files, flooring—all destroyed.

If it was a hurricane we’d have boarded up the windows. If it was the river we would have filled and stacked sandbags. But with a tornado, what could we do? We backed up our files to the cloud, told everyone to take their laptops and sent them home to be with their families. The odds of the office getting hit were slim, but not slim enough. By morning there was nothing left.