The Collector | 18+

【31】Just Ignore It

"I don't remember when the last time we had such a rainy November was," he randomly said after a few minutes of silent walking.

"The weather, really?"

He chuckled at my cynicism. "I don't know what else to talk about with you without getting... overly absorbed."

I thought about it for a moment, and then asked, "What do you do for a living? What's the family business?"

"Well, that's a complicated answer. I have real estate a little all over, mostly in Norway, the UK, and the US. But I don't handle that side of the Westergaard empire. I just reap the benefits."

"Why don't you?"

"It bores me to death. I much prefer running the investment company."

"What do you invest in?"

"A bit of everything. I enjoy finding small startups and whatnots that have great ideas but little means, and help them grow. I have shares and investments in thousands of companies and projects all around the world. Some are very profitable, some not, but if I believe in what they are doing, I'll keep supporting them."

"Do I know some of them?"

"Certainly, yes. Anything big on the internet has had some Westergaard money when they first started seeking out investors. Most major tech companies too, as well as some big pharma. That's the very profitable side of the business. Then there are things like Bimpe's Canteen, which you've surely never heard of."

"What is that?" I asked with a confused smile, amused by his playful tone.

"It's a restaurant in Nigeria, one of the latest projects I've worked on. This one's pro bono—I'm not expecting anything in return."

"What's special about it?"

"Bimpe, who is a lovely mother of four, opened a restaurant in Abuja three years ago. She lost her husband fifteen years prior and has gone through many struggles after that. When she got the funds she needed to open her dream restaurant, she vowed to help others. And now, people help her do that. She gets discounted products, crates of unsold goods, food donations...and for every meal someone purchases in her restaurant, she offers one to someone in need. Also, she's a splendid cook, so it's become extremely popular."

"Have you tried it?"

"I have, yes. I flew there last month to meet her and witness all the good she's doing. With my help, she'll open three more restaurants like this one, and help even more people."

Despite the heartwarming conversation, I was shivering. Between the intensifying rain and the sweat, I was drenched. "You should head back," I offered, wiping my face with my sleeve, which didn't do much. "There's no need for us both to catch our death."

"I'm not abandoning you injured in the middle of nowhere, Mila."

"It's okay. Jakob will be there soon enough."

"I'm staying."

I held back a roll of my eyes, annoyed that he'd stay here rather than be pragmatic. For both our sakes, I walked a little faster, minding my sore ankle. In all truth, it was better for me to have him along. Had he not been there, I might have abandoned and lay on the ground in a tight ball. I was so cold, I could barely feel my extremities anymore.

"I don't think many businessmen have a range that goes from the Silicon Valley to Bimpe's Canteen," I pointed out as we reached a clearing.

"I don't care for money much."

"That's because you have loads of it."

"Maybe," he laughed. He then shook his head, ridding himself of some of the water in his hair and face. "I find it so inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things. I'd much rather use it for good than keep it all in a bank account in Zurich."