Wall Street Story. Angielski thriller z ćwiczeniami - ebook
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Wall Street Story. Angielski thriller z ćwiczeniami - ebook
Na Wall Street, dzięki protekcji wpływowej ciotki, pojawia się młody finansista Peter, który rozpoczyna staż w jednej z największych instytucji zajmujących się funduszami hedgingowymi. W Nowym Jorku poznaje świat podejrzanych interesów i oszustw. Jego życie jeszcze bardziej się komplikuje, gdy pewnego dnia przypadkowo staje się świadkiem samobójstwa bankiera należącego do nowojorskiej elity finansowej. Peter odkrywa intrygę, w którą zamieszana jest cała finansjera Wall Street.
Wall Street, giełdowe przekręty, podejrzane interesy, handel informacjami, samobójstwo, bezwględność i romans nowojorskiego finansisty. „Wall Street Story” to wciągający thriller finansowy, z którym poznasz współczesne amerykańskie słownictwo (American English), utrwalisz poprawne konstrukcje leksykalno-gramatyczne i przekonasz się, że nauka języka obcego może być przyjemnością, której nie sposób się oprzeć!
Angielski thriller – zabójczo wciągający!
- współczesne amerykańskie słownictwo na poziomie zaawansowanym
- wiele urozmaiconych ćwiczeń leksykalno-gramatycznych
- tłumaczenia trudniejszych słówek i wyrażeń
- klucz odpowiedzi oraz praktyczny słowniczek angielsko-polski
| Kategoria: | Angielski |
| Zabezpieczenie: |
Watermark
|
| ISBN: | 978-83-7788-663-2 |
| Rozmiar pliku: | 1,4 MB |
FRAGMENT KSIĄŻKI
PRELUDE
I met Peter Goodman when he was a student of mine. I was teaching English literature at New Town University, and Peter was taking a course of mine called “Jane Austin. Sense or Nonsense?”
Peter reminded me of a character from Sense and Sensibility called Brandon: “He was the kind of man whom everyone speaks well of, and nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers to talk to.”
Despite his natural reserve, we became friends, and we tried to keep in touch after the course had ended. As often happens, however, we lost touch when he left the world of the university and went out into the world to make his fortune – in his case, on Wall Street.
I never would have thought of him ending up in the world of high finance, but it was hardly the first time that a student of mine had found a career path in a most unpredictable direction.
Anyway, it was about three years later that we crossed paths again. I happened to be in Seattle (of all places) on my honeymoon and while my new wife and I were eating clam chowder and looking over the harbor, who should I happen to see sitting opposite me? Peter Goodman.
He was much changed since our last meeting. He had a long Dutch face and it looked haggard and haunted. We exchanged the usual pleasantries, but it quickly became clear to me that something was deeply troubling him. Well, I had to send my wife back to the hotel by herself (I paid hell for that later) and Peter and I started talking about where life’s journey had led him over the last three years.
The story you are about to read is Peter Goodman’s most extraordinary and disturbing adventure.
Naturally, all of the names have been changed to protect the innocent as they say. The New York you find in these pages may seem quite different to the New York you either know from films or personal experience.
This is a story of conspiracies wrapped inside of deceit and packaged in one big lie. You might have trouble believing it, but that only goes to show that truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.CHAPTER 1
PETER GOODMAN STUDIED and finished English Literature because he had always loved books. It was his aunt Beatrice who had suggested a Wall Street career, agreeing to fund his further education. Now, in his third month in an MBA program, he was starting to have his doubts. His aunt Beatrice knew more than a little about his temperament and in her weekly and lengthy e-mail finished by writing:
You must come up to the house. It’ll do you the world of good. I’ve already reserved you a train ticket (find the confirmation enclosed). See you Friday night!
Aunt B.
The train pulled into Small Town, Connecticut, at 10.35 pm and aunt Beatrice was waiting outside in her Dodge pickup. Peter swung open the passenger side door and aunt Beatrice was sitting there behind the steering wheel. She raised her finger to her lips to shush him because Frank Sinatra was into the second chorus of I’ve got you under my skin, and this was her favorite part.
The car pulled away from the curb and headed to aunt B.’s house. She had a large, four bedroom bungalow ten minutes from the town center where she lived with her two Siberian cats (sisters from the same litter): Lucky and Luckier.
At the house, Peter settled into his usual bedroom with a sandwich and glass of milk. He sat in the single bed, slowly ate his sandwich, looked at the flowery wallpaper and, feeling very much like he had been cast back to his early teen years, thought to himself: I really must have nothing better to do on a weekend.
That was basically true and that’s why he was there. Well, that and, of course, to keep his aunt B. happy. No doubt she was overly ambitious for him, but he didn’t begrudge her that. His mother was dead and his father was last heard of in Sierra Leone. Aunt B. was the only family he had and he knew he wasn’t ready yet to face life as a fully-fledged orphan.
Peter woke up the next morning at 6.30 am. Aunt. B. would still be in bed, her floozy-like pink hair in curlers, face smeared with cream and her eyes firmly shut behind a sun-blocking mask.
Peter put on his jogging gear and headed for the nearest 7-11 to buy a package of cigarettes.
Everything was going as normal – he’d done this countless times in the past. Settling in for the weekend, talking with aunt B. about her career on Wall Street, the good old days and all that stuff. And sneaking off to the 7-11 too to buy cigarettes and smoke them in the parking lot in front of the store.
As he was smoking, a woman who was walking an English bull-dog went past. The dog stopped directly opposite Peter, about ten feet away, and looked at him intently. The woman pulled on the leash but the dog was too stubborn to be pushed around easily. Finally, she looked over at Peter.
“I think he wants a cigarette,” Peter said. The woman smiled. She was about 35 – about ten years older than him. She was wearing black tights that stretched and curved in all the right places. She had dark hair that was cut in a bob.
She pulled on the leash again but the dog didn’t move.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zapraszamy do zakupu pełnej wersji książki
------------------------------------------------------------------------Glossary
PRELUDE
reserve – powściągliwość
to make one’s fortune – zarobić fortunę, tu: spróbować szczęścia
career path – ścieżka kariery
to cross paths – spotkać się
I happened to... – Tak się złożyło, że...
clam – małż
chowder – zupa z ryb lub owoców morza
harbor – przystań
who should I happen to see – i kogo widzę
haggard – wynędzniały
haunted – udręczony
to exchange plesantries – wymieniać uprzejmości
to trouble – kłopotać
to pay hell – słono zapłacić
extraordinary – niesamowity
disturbing – wstrząsający
wrapped – zapakowany, owinięty
deceit – oszustwo, kłamstwo
it goes to show – to dowodzi
CHAPTER 1
pickup – samochód osobowy terenowy
to swing open – otwierać gwałtownie
to shush – uciszać
to pull away from – ruszać, oddalać się
curb – krawężnik
to head to – zmierzać ku
litter – miot
to settle into – zadomowić się
to cast back – wracać do przeszłości, przenosić do przeszłości
to keep sb. happy – uszczęśliwiać / udobruchać kogoś
overly – nader, ponad
to begrudge – żałować (komuś czegoś)
sb was last heard of... – ostatnio słyszano o kimś...
fully-fledged – pełnoprawny, prawdziwy
floozy-like – zdzirowaty
curler – wałek do włosów
7-11 – sklep wielobranżowy
countless – niezliczony
to sneak off – wymykać się
parking lot – parking
intently – uważnie, bacznie
to curve – wyginać (się), zaokrąglać (się)
bob – fryzura na pazia
I met Peter Goodman when he was a student of mine. I was teaching English literature at New Town University, and Peter was taking a course of mine called “Jane Austin. Sense or Nonsense?”
Peter reminded me of a character from Sense and Sensibility called Brandon: “He was the kind of man whom everyone speaks well of, and nobody cares about; whom all are delighted to see, and nobody remembers to talk to.”
Despite his natural reserve, we became friends, and we tried to keep in touch after the course had ended. As often happens, however, we lost touch when he left the world of the university and went out into the world to make his fortune – in his case, on Wall Street.
I never would have thought of him ending up in the world of high finance, but it was hardly the first time that a student of mine had found a career path in a most unpredictable direction.
Anyway, it was about three years later that we crossed paths again. I happened to be in Seattle (of all places) on my honeymoon and while my new wife and I were eating clam chowder and looking over the harbor, who should I happen to see sitting opposite me? Peter Goodman.
He was much changed since our last meeting. He had a long Dutch face and it looked haggard and haunted. We exchanged the usual pleasantries, but it quickly became clear to me that something was deeply troubling him. Well, I had to send my wife back to the hotel by herself (I paid hell for that later) and Peter and I started talking about where life’s journey had led him over the last three years.
The story you are about to read is Peter Goodman’s most extraordinary and disturbing adventure.
Naturally, all of the names have been changed to protect the innocent as they say. The New York you find in these pages may seem quite different to the New York you either know from films or personal experience.
This is a story of conspiracies wrapped inside of deceit and packaged in one big lie. You might have trouble believing it, but that only goes to show that truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.CHAPTER 1
PETER GOODMAN STUDIED and finished English Literature because he had always loved books. It was his aunt Beatrice who had suggested a Wall Street career, agreeing to fund his further education. Now, in his third month in an MBA program, he was starting to have his doubts. His aunt Beatrice knew more than a little about his temperament and in her weekly and lengthy e-mail finished by writing:
You must come up to the house. It’ll do you the world of good. I’ve already reserved you a train ticket (find the confirmation enclosed). See you Friday night!
Aunt B.
The train pulled into Small Town, Connecticut, at 10.35 pm and aunt Beatrice was waiting outside in her Dodge pickup. Peter swung open the passenger side door and aunt Beatrice was sitting there behind the steering wheel. She raised her finger to her lips to shush him because Frank Sinatra was into the second chorus of I’ve got you under my skin, and this was her favorite part.
The car pulled away from the curb and headed to aunt B.’s house. She had a large, four bedroom bungalow ten minutes from the town center where she lived with her two Siberian cats (sisters from the same litter): Lucky and Luckier.
At the house, Peter settled into his usual bedroom with a sandwich and glass of milk. He sat in the single bed, slowly ate his sandwich, looked at the flowery wallpaper and, feeling very much like he had been cast back to his early teen years, thought to himself: I really must have nothing better to do on a weekend.
That was basically true and that’s why he was there. Well, that and, of course, to keep his aunt B. happy. No doubt she was overly ambitious for him, but he didn’t begrudge her that. His mother was dead and his father was last heard of in Sierra Leone. Aunt B. was the only family he had and he knew he wasn’t ready yet to face life as a fully-fledged orphan.
Peter woke up the next morning at 6.30 am. Aunt. B. would still be in bed, her floozy-like pink hair in curlers, face smeared with cream and her eyes firmly shut behind a sun-blocking mask.
Peter put on his jogging gear and headed for the nearest 7-11 to buy a package of cigarettes.
Everything was going as normal – he’d done this countless times in the past. Settling in for the weekend, talking with aunt B. about her career on Wall Street, the good old days and all that stuff. And sneaking off to the 7-11 too to buy cigarettes and smoke them in the parking lot in front of the store.
As he was smoking, a woman who was walking an English bull-dog went past. The dog stopped directly opposite Peter, about ten feet away, and looked at him intently. The woman pulled on the leash but the dog was too stubborn to be pushed around easily. Finally, she looked over at Peter.
“I think he wants a cigarette,” Peter said. The woman smiled. She was about 35 – about ten years older than him. She was wearing black tights that stretched and curved in all the right places. She had dark hair that was cut in a bob.
She pulled on the leash again but the dog didn’t move.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zapraszamy do zakupu pełnej wersji książki
------------------------------------------------------------------------Glossary
PRELUDE
reserve – powściągliwość
to make one’s fortune – zarobić fortunę, tu: spróbować szczęścia
career path – ścieżka kariery
to cross paths – spotkać się
I happened to... – Tak się złożyło, że...
clam – małż
chowder – zupa z ryb lub owoców morza
harbor – przystań
who should I happen to see – i kogo widzę
haggard – wynędzniały
haunted – udręczony
to exchange plesantries – wymieniać uprzejmości
to trouble – kłopotać
to pay hell – słono zapłacić
extraordinary – niesamowity
disturbing – wstrząsający
wrapped – zapakowany, owinięty
deceit – oszustwo, kłamstwo
it goes to show – to dowodzi
CHAPTER 1
pickup – samochód osobowy terenowy
to swing open – otwierać gwałtownie
to shush – uciszać
to pull away from – ruszać, oddalać się
curb – krawężnik
to head to – zmierzać ku
litter – miot
to settle into – zadomowić się
to cast back – wracać do przeszłości, przenosić do przeszłości
to keep sb. happy – uszczęśliwiać / udobruchać kogoś
overly – nader, ponad
to begrudge – żałować (komuś czegoś)
sb was last heard of... – ostatnio słyszano o kimś...
fully-fledged – pełnoprawny, prawdziwy
floozy-like – zdzirowaty
curler – wałek do włosów
7-11 – sklep wielobranżowy
countless – niezliczony
to sneak off – wymykać się
parking lot – parking
intently – uważnie, bacznie
to curve – wyginać (się), zaokrąglać (się)
bob – fryzura na pazia
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