CHAPTER TWO
The receptionist at Angelcom Venture Group gave me a questioning glance before leading me into the conference room at the end of the hall. I checked myself over, making sure nothing was grossly out of place. So far so good. I shrugged.
“Make yourself comfortable, Miss Hathaway. The rest of the group should be arriving shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said politely, grateful the room was momentarily empty. I took a deep breath, trailing my fingers along the edge of the conference table until I reached a wall of windows overlooking Boston Harbor. Awe mingled with my growing anxiety. In a moment I would be face-to-face with a handful of the city’s most wealthy and influential investors, and I felt so far out of my comfort zone, it just wasn’t funny. I took a deep breath and shook out my hands anxiously, wishing my body would relax a little.
“Erica?”
I spun around. A young man about my age, with blond hair parted neatly to the side, dark blue eyes, and wearing an impressive three-piece suit, approached me. We shook hands.
“You must be Maxwell.”
“Please, call me Max.”
“Professor Quinlan has told me a lot about you, Max.”
“Don’t believe a word of it.” He laughed, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth contrasting with a tan that made me wonder how much time he actually spent in New England.
“All good things, I promise,” I lied.
“That’s good of him. I owe him one. This must be your first pitch?”
“Unmistakably.”
“You’ll do fine. Just remember, most of us were in your shoes at some point.”
I smiled and nodded, knowing the chances of Max Pope, heir to shipping magnate Michael Pope, pitching to anyone other than his father for a measly two million dollars were slim to none. Regardless, he was the reason I was here this morning, and I was thankful. Quinlan had known just the favor to pull.
“Help yourself. The pastries are amazing.” He gestured to the plentiful breakfast buffet along the wall.
The knot in my stomach disagreed. I needed to get a handle on my nerves. I couldn’t even stomach coffee this morning. “Thank you, I’m fine though.”
As the other investors trickled in, Max introduced me, and I did my best to make small talk, silently cursing Alli, my best friend, absentee business partner, and marketing go-to. She could make entertaining small talk with a can of soup, where I had little else on my mind beyond the facts and figures I was prepared to present, which wasn’t ideal for idle conversation with people I’d never met.
When people began to settle at the conference table, I positioned myself on the opposite side, organizing and scanning over my paperwork for the twentieth time. I located the clock on the wall across from me. I had less than twenty minutes to convince this small group of strangers that I was worth investing in.
The rumble of voices quieted, but when I looked to Max for the cue to start, he gestured to the empty center chair across from me. “We’re waiting for Landon.”
Landon?
The door flung open, and I forgot how to breathe. Holy shit.
In walked my mystery man—six feet of masculine glory—looking nothing like his suited colleagues. His black V-neck highlighted his sculpted shoulders and chest, and his worn out jeans fit his physique like a dream. My skin grew tight at the thought of having those arms around me again, accidentally or otherwise.
Armed with a jumbo iced coffee, he dropped into the seat in front of me, seemingly unaware of his lateness or lack of formality, and flashed me a knowing smile. He was an entirely different person from the dapper professional I’d so luckily fallen into the other night. He suffered from a gorgeous case of bedhead, his dark brown hair spiking every which way, begging for my fingers. I bit my lip in an effort to hide my raw appreciation for the man’s body.
“This is Blake Landon,” Max said. “Blake, Erica Hathaway. She’s here to present on her fashion social network, Clozpin.”
He stilled for a moment. “Clever name. You brought her in?”
“Yes, we have a mutual friend at Harvard.”
Blake nodded, locking me in a penetrating stare that had me instantly flushed. He licked his lips. Was he thinking what I was thinking? I crossed my legs, acutely aware of the sensations he inspired between them. Get it together, Erica. The ball of nervous energy that had resided in my stomach mere seconds ago had exploded into a blinding sexual energy that had me pulsing from my fingertips to my nethers.
I blew out a slow breath and smoothed the lapels on my black suit coat, silently scolding myself for swooning at an incredibly inconvenient time. I stuttered into the presentation. I explained the premise of the site and moved into a brief outline of our year of bare bones marketing and the resulting exponential growth, trying desperately to stay focused. Every time Blake and I made eye contact, my brain started short-circuiting.
Eventually he interrupted me. “Who developed the site?”
“My co-founder, Sid Kumar.”
“And where is he?”
“Unfortunately, my co-founders were unable to attend today, though they very much wanted to.”
“So you’re the only one on your team dedicated to the project right now?”
He arched a brow and leaned back casually into the seat, giving me a better view of his torso. I forced myself not to stare.
“No, I—” I struggled to formulate an honest answer. “We’ve just graduated, so our level of involvement in the coming months depends heavily on the project’s financial stability.”
“In other words, their dedication is dependent on funding.”
“Somewhat.”
“Is yours?”
“No,” I said sharply, immediately defensive at the implication. I had dedicated my life to this project for months, thinking of nothing else.
“Continue.” He waved me on.
I took a deep breath and glanced at my notes to get back on track. “At this juncture, we are seeking an injection of capital for marketing to enhance growth and revenue.”
“What’s your conversion rate?”
“From visitors to registered users, about twenty percent—”
“Okay, but what about paid users?” he interrupted.
“About five percent of our users upgrade to pro accounts.”
“How do you plan to improve that?”
I tapped my fingers impatiently on the table, trying to keep my scattered thoughts on track. Every question he posed sounded like a challenge or an insult, effectively squashing every confidence-inspiring pep talk I had given myself leading up to this meeting. Teetering on the edge of panic, I looked to Max for a sign of hope. He seemed mildly amused by what I imagined was par for the course for Blake. The others stared blankly between their notepads and me, showing no indication of their interest either way.
For a split second I had thought last night’s run-in meant he might go easy on me, but apparently not. Mystery man was turning out to be a bit of a jerk.
“We’ve been focused on building and maintaining the basic membership, which as I mentioned, is growing virally. We recently started to target boutique fashion designers who are marketing their collections through the site. With a solid base of potential consumers, we are hoping to attract more retailers and brands in the industry and increase our paid memberships.”
I paused, bracing myself for another interruption, but Blake’s phone silently lit up, mercifully distracting him. Relieved to finally to be out from under his microscope, I concluded with the competitor analysis and financial projections before my time was up.
An awkward silence descended upon the room. Blake took a sip of his coffee, closed out the screen on his phone, and set it back on the table. “Are you seeing anyone?”
My heart pounded in my chest and my face heated, as if I’d been unexpectedly called on in class. Was I seeing anyone? I stared at him in shock, unsure if I fully understood the implication of his question. “Excuse me?”
“Relationships can be distracting. If you were to get the funds you need from this group, it could be a factor that affects your ability to grow.”
I hadn’t misunderstood him. As if being the only woman in the room wasn’t enough pressure, I had him shining a spotlight on my relationship status. Misogynist prick. I clenched my teeth, this time to keep myself from hurling a string of expletives at him. I couldn’t lose my cool, but I wasn’t about to smile away his inappropriate behavior.
“I can assure you, Mr. Landon, that I am one hundred percent committed to this project,” I said, my voice slow and steady. I met his gaze, doing my best to communicate how unimpressed I was with his approach. “Do you have any other questions pertaining to my personal life that will influence your decision today?”
“No, I don’t think so. Max?”
“Um, no, I think we’ve covered quite a bit. Gentlemen, are you ready to decide on this?” Max grinned and gestured to the others.
The other three men in suits nodded, and one after the next, they voiced their commendation of my efforts and subsequent decision to pass on the project.
Blake looked me in the eye, pausing for a moment before delivering his verdict as casually as he’d devastated my morning. “I’ll pass.”
Panic alarms went off and tears threatened, quickly following by my inner voice. She was crafting a farewell speech for Mr. Landon that included telling him where to go and how to get there. I looked to Max, waiting for the final blow.
“Well, Erica, I think you’ve created a really great community with this, and I would certainly like to hear more. Let’s schedule a time in the next couple weeks for a follow up, and we can get into more of the logistics. After that, we’ll decide if we want to offer you a deal. How does that sound?”
Sweet relief. I wanted to jump over the table and hug Max. “That would be wonderful. I will look forward to it.”
“Great. I think we’re done here then.”
Max rose to chat with the other men before they headed out, leaving me face to face with Blake, who was now smirking at me with that gorgeous smug face. I didn’t know whether to smack him or fix his hair. I had a few other things in mind too. Feeling so conflicted about someone in such a short period of time made me question my own sanity.
“You did well,” he said, leaning in closer.
His voice was low and raspy, making my skin tingle.
“Really?” I countered unsteadily.
“Really,” he reassured me. “Can I take you to breakfast?” His eyes softened, as if we hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes at odds with one another.
Confused, I stuffed my notes back into my bag. Blake was beautiful, but he grossly overestimated his assets if he thought I was going to let him pick me up after that show.
“There’s this great little pub across the street. They do a full Irish breakfast.”
I stood and met his gaze, thrilled by the opportunity to serve him up a little slice of rejection. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Landon, but some of us have work to do.”
* * *
“He asked you out?” Alli gushed into the phone. New York City hustled and bustled in the background.
“I guess so.” I was still reeling from the morning events.
“Did you wear your power suit? With the teal blouse?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, stripping the very garment off of me and collapsing onto our futon back at the dorm.
“Well, no wonder. You look amazing in that. Was he hot?”
Blake Landon was one of the sexiest men I had ever shared airspace with, but he had no respect for women in business, which put a serious damper on my attraction to him. Unfortunately, he was perilously close to being in my top ten of people I most despised.
“It doesn’t matter, Alli. I’ve never been so humiliated.” I winced, reliving his challenges and the subsequent rejection.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I wish I could have been there to help.”
“Me too. Anyway, how was the interview?”
Alli paused. “It was good.”
“Yeah?”
“Really good, actually. I don’t want to jinx myself, but it sounds pretty promising.”
“That’s great.” I tried to hide my disappointment, knowing she was excited about this one. She would be working under the marketing director at one of the biggest labels in fashion. I had known for months that Alli would be looking for a full-time gig after graduation, but the thought of running the site without her depressed me. Unless we could afford to hire a new marketing director, I would become the new voice of the company, and networking had never been my forte.
“Nothing is set in stone though. We’ll see.”
“We should celebrate,” I said. Heaven knew I needed some sort of reward for surviving my hellish morning.
“We should celebrate our new best friend, Max!” she squealed.
I laughed, knowing Max was just her type too, if she only knew. She fell apart over three-piece suits. “Hopefully he isn’t just extending his favor to Quinlan by hearing me out for this follow up.”
“People don’t dangle two million dollar carrots in front of people as a favor.”
“True, but I don’t want him to invest unless he’s actually interested.”
“Erica, you’re overanalyzing, as usual.”
I hoped she was right, but I couldn’t help running every possible scenario through my mind in an attempt to plan and prepare for all of them. My brain never stopped.
“I’m getting on the Acela in an hour. I’ll be back before dinner and then we can grab drinks,” she said.
“All right, see you then.” I hung up and forced myself to get up so I could locate my comfy sweat pants, the ones I reserved for breakups and hangovers. Today had drained me beyond belief.
I stopped to appraise myself in the full-length mirror in the room Alli and I shared. I loosened my French twist and my wavy blonde hair fell down my back. I was thinner than usual, thanks to the past few weeks of stress, but my matching bra and panties still clung to my subtle curves.
I ran my hands over the soft lace hugging my hips, wishing someone else’s hands were there to make me forget all about today. I wasn’t expecting to go weak in the knees over some cocky investor at my first boardroom pitch, but my physical reaction to Blake was a serious indicator that I needed to revive my social life. I needed to get out and meet more people. Get away from my computer, at least on Saturday nights. That was usually when we did maintenance on the site because the traffic was slow, but at this rate I wouldn’t have a relationship in my twenties.
I got dressed and shot off an email to Sid with the news. He wouldn’t be awake for another few hours. In addition to being nocturnal, as many programmers were, he had come down with the flu the day before the meeting. He wasn’t much of a public speaker either, but strength existed in numbers and I could have used his support.
The past few months had been particularly intense, between normal college stressors and drafting an in-depth business plan for today’s meeting. While profitable, the site had a long way to go before it could support all of us in the long run. The business kept Alli, Sid, and me afloat, covering costs and our modest expenses as college students, but there were high expectations for where our Ivy League educations would land us fresh out of school.
While Sid and Alli had been job hunting like any responsible college senior, I had gone all in on Clozpin, convinced after our initial success that I could turn it into something far better than a nine to five job for all of us. Getting Max to invest might be my last hope before I had to sideline that dream and get a normal job. In the meantime, I had less than a week to move out of the dorms and find a place to live.
* * *
I woke to the smell of coffee quickly followed by a dull throbbing in my head. “Damn the wine.” I rubbed my temples and willed the pain away.
I sat up on the futon, wrapped myself in my comforter, and thanked the gods for the precious gift of coffee as Alli handed me a steaming cup and two ibuprofen on cue.
“Whatever, we had a blast.” She sidled up next to me with her cup of joe. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she looked effortlessly cute in an oversized off shoulder top and black leggings. “I haven’t seen you have so much fun in ages. You deserved a little break.”
“That meeting put me over the edge,” I said, thankful despite the headache that my nerves were no longer as frayed as they were yesterday.
“So tell me more about Max, and when can I meet him? According to drunk Erica, we’re soul mates.”
I laughed as details of the night came back to me. No night of dinner and drinks was complete without girl talk.
“I pretty much only know what Professor Quinlan told me. He’s smart but always ended up digging himself out of some trouble at school. I don’t think he would have graduated without Quinlan’s help, and a degree was one thing his daddy couldn’t buy.” I shrugged, wanting to give Max the benefit of the doubt now that he’d saved me from total humiliation. “I’m sure it’s not easy to fly straight with a billionaire father though. Some people can’t handle that much freedom.”
“Well it just so happens I’m in the market for taming billionaire playboys.” She gave me a sassy smirk over her shoulder.
“I have little doubt you are.” I rolled my eyes.
“So he just does this investing thing now?”
“I’m not really sure what he does now outside of Angelcom. With that much money, he’s probably into all sorts of things.”
“Okay, the Internet search begins.” Alli bounced up and settled back with her laptop, narrating Max’s benign resume of charity associations and Internet investments. “Let’s see what we can dig up about Blake Landon.”
I fisted my hand around the mug handle, vaguely remembering my drunken rant about what an offensive ass Blake had been at the meeting. That he assumed he could derail my presentation and take me out after was unbelievable, but with looks like his, he probably had most women eating out of his palm with very little effort. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t most women. The seething rage I felt toward the man was tempered only by the unholy way I felt under his gaze.
“Oh, please, I could care less.” Of the warring emotions, I tried to focus on my anger, but in truth, I was secretly curious about what Alli might find. Until yesterday I hadn’t heard of Blake, but judging by the way they let him run the show at Angelcom, he must have some influence. Alli stared intently at the screen, reading with obvious interest. I finally caved. “Well, what does it say?”
“He’s a hacker.”
“What?” She must have had the wrong Blake Landon, though he’d hardly looked like an upstanding corporate citizen this morning.
“Well, he used to be anyway. He has rumored connections to M89, a U.S. based hacker group that compromised over two hundred high-profile bank accounts about fifteen years ago. It doesn’t say anything else about it though. Officially, he’s the founding developer of Banksoft, which was acquired for twelve billion dollars. He’s the executive director of Angelcom and is an active investor in a number of early-stage Internet companies.”
“Self-made billionaire, then.”
“Sounds like it. He’s only twenty-seven. Says his parents were teachers.”
The information did little to diminish the anger I felt toward him sabotaging my pitch, but it did fill in some of the blanks. I had to admit, I respected him more knowing he wasn’t handed his fortune, but between him and Max, he still acted like the privileged brat of two. “Well, I don’t suppose it matters much now. If I’m lucky, we’ll never cross paths again anyway.”