Jon the investor
After several months of reporting daily stock prices, I was given a chance to sit with Mr. Iwata to meet with investors. All I had to do was to take notes on their questions and Mr. Iwata’s answers. Still, I was excited that I was taking a step forward in my job.
We went into the meeting room and met the guests: a tall, red-haired man and a shorter and skinny man, also reddish-haired. We exchanged business cards and sat down. Miss. Yabe came in to serve tea. The shorter one mostly asked questions. I looked at his card. His name was Mr. Jon Dawson, a managing director from one of the biggest investment banks in the world. He spoke fluent Japanese with an English accent. At some point, I looked up from my notes to notice him looking at me instead of Mr. Iwata, who was speaking monotonously with his stone face. I wasn’t a stranger to men’s gaze, as, after all, I was young and a woman in a skirt and heels.
After the meeting, I received an email from Mr. Dawson, addressed only to me. He wrote in English and thanked me for the meeting, but there was something casual and friendly in the tone. I replied to reciprocate the appreciation in a business-like manner but added a hint of playfulness. He replied, now stripped off of formality, complimented my flawless English. Our correspondence started stealthily, and his sanguine character lit up otherwise dull working life. His primary residence was in London, and he was only in Tokyo for one week every quarter or so. After exchanging emails for a couple of months, he asked me out to dinner.