Reborn in America, I am a legendary short seller on Wall Street.

Chapter 66 A Song of Ice and Fire (Seeking monthly votes and recommendations)

Larry looked at the child, blinked, and then took another silver spoon from the plate and handed it to the child, who looked to be only three years old. He then pushed his ice cream toward the edge of the table.

After all, Larry couldn't just watch a little kid longing for a bite and do nothing about it.

The child reached out and took the small silver spoon, then stretched out his arm and jabbed the spoon hard into the ice cream, before scooping out a large spoonful of ice cream.

However, his movements were too large, and he almost tipped over the carved glass bowl. Larry quickly held the glass bowl to prevent the ice cream from spilling.

The three-year-old didn't care about any of that and just gulped down the ice cream in his mouth.

The icy coldness of the ice cream made him frown and shiver instantly, but in a flash, the sweetness within made him smile. The little boy rubbed his lips, feeling the sweet, cool flavor gradually melt in his mouth, leaving only a hint of milky sweetness. He turned to Larry and smiled, saying...
"tasty!!"

Larry sighed a little, pushed the ice cream cup forward again, held the glass base firmly with one hand to prevent it from tipping over, and smiled at the child, saying, "Then have some more."

The three-year-old had no idea about politeness. Hearing Larry say that, he quickly stood on tiptoe, scooped up another spoonful, and put it in his mouth as well.

At that moment, footsteps sounded outside the private room, and a steady voice raised its volume, "Joseph, where are you? Where have you run off to again?"

Larry guessed that this was the adults discovering the child had sneaked out, but the three-year-old didn't care at all and continued to enjoy his ice cream while shivering.

"Joseph? Where are you?" The man outside raised his voice, and footsteps began to move.

Larry quickly raised his voice, "Sir, if you're looking for a three-year-old child, he's here!"

There was a pause in the noise outside the door, and then someone entered Larry's private room.

The man was tall with bright eyes, a handsome mustache, and wore a tailored tuxedo with a bright white lace shirt on his chest. He also held a cigar that had just been lit.

What was particularly impressive was that this person had a beautiful head of red hair that was neatly combed.

There are many Celts in Boston, including those from Scotland and Ireland. Logan has blond red hair, which is not uncommon.

But this person was different. This person's red hair was scarlet and very bright in color, which unconsciously reminded Larry of the wild woman Ygritte from "A Song of Ice and Fire" in his previous life, who always mocked the protagonist for "not knowing anything" and had the same hair.

The red-haired man first looked at his child, then at Larry, and gave an apologetic smile. "Oh, little Joseph always sneaks out like this, disturbing your meal. I'm so sorry."

Larry flashed his signature humble smile. "You don't need to be so polite. I'm just worried that the children might get a sore throat from eating too much cold food."

The red-haired man smiled and waved his hand, saying, "That doesn't matter. We are Celts. If we can't get used to ice and snow, how can we call ourselves Celts?"

The two smiled at each other.

At this moment, the waiter brought over the other two cups of ice cream Larry had ordered, and another waiter brought over the clam chowder that served with the first ice cream.

After the waiter left, the red-haired man put the cigar in his mouth and took out a $10 bill from his purse.

"Thank you for treating my child to ice cream. I would like to offer a small apology for my child's rudeness in interrupting your meal."

Larry didn't take the $10 bill. Seriously, is Larry the kind of person who would even consider a $10 bill?
Larry stood up and replied with a smile, “I’ve heard that respectable gentlemen don’t like to pay for each other; they prefer to exchange. Although I’m not old enough, I don’t think you need to pay for the child’s food. If you really feel that’s right, then just give me a cigar, and that will do.”

The red-haired man paused, a smile spreading across his face. He quickly stuffed the somewhat reckless $10 back into his pocket and then took out a cigar wrapped in cellophane from the pocket of his tuxedo.

"Your suggestion is excellent. Let's enjoy a cigar time together."

Larry glanced at the ice cream and then invited the red-haired man to sit in the high-backed chair and try some ice cream too.

The red-haired man readily agreed, handed the cigar to Larry, and then took out cigar matches and cigar cutters from his pocket.

It's clear that this red-haired man isn't just a typical old-money aristocrat, but a straightforward and generous person who doesn't mince words when faced with Larry's invitation.

Larry removed the cellophane from the cigar and saw that the wrapper was dark brown and exuded the aroma of cocoa and leather.

Wallace had previously taught Larry how to identify cigars. Larry immediately recognized the wrapper and the way the cigar was tightly rolled – it was definitely not a Connecticut cigar, but a genuine Cuban cigar. Then, Larry brought the cigar to his nose, sniffed it, and praised it…

“A superb Cuban cigar; if not a Montecristo, then a Partagas.”

The red-haired man smiled and nodded, "It's Partagas! Yes, a kindred spirit."

Then, he helped Larry cut off the end of his cigar, lit it, and the two of them smoked cigars and ate ice cream, enjoying the alternating sensation of ice and fire that they rarely experienced.

The red-haired man wasn't very talkative, but he always had a smile on his face.

When Larry talked about his job, he said, "I work at Paine Weber Securities." The man then laughed and said, "I own the bar across the street from your company."

Larry was a little dazed. After a pause, he remembered that there was a bar with a brown door across from his company, but he had never been inside.

The two finished their ice cream, and the child also finished his half portion.

The red-haired man waved goodbye to Larry, took the child, and returned to Box 18. However, less than two minutes later, the man, with half a cigar in his mouth, took out a mahogany humidor containing five cigars and shoved it into Larry's arms with a smile.

Larry quickly said, "You're too kind, it's just a cup of ice cream."

"Brother, take this, don't be shy. I think your way of eating ice cream with a cigar is more worthwhile." The red-haired man took the cigar, smiled at Larry, and said goodbye.

After finishing his clam chowder and leaving the Union Oyster House, Larry, with the box of cigars tucked under his arm, suddenly realized he still didn't know the red-haired man's name.

However, Larry thought again that it was already a kind of fate that they met by chance and were able to chat, have a cigarette, and eat some ice cream together.

You don't need to know any name.

Meanwhile, at table number 18 on the second floor of the Union Oyster House, a red-haired father was lovingly watching his youngest son. He ordered another ice cream for the child, but the boy, completely unconcerned about the cold, continued to eat it spoonful by spoonful, laughing as he went.

The red-haired man ruffled the child's messy hair and smiled affectionately, "You'll be a brave little fellow, Joseph Patrick Kennedy."

(End of this chapter)