“We currently have fifty thousand active users, but as you know, we’re still in beta. We need to acquire users rapidly to reach our goal of one million by this time next year. So this round of funding would launch the new version of the app and triple the headcount in the next six months, with the goal of doubling it again within the year. I want to acquire the top data analytics team in tech,” Mack said. “There is no one in the world who can’t benefit from it, whose life won’t be improved by using TakeOff. As more people start using us, more people will need to use us. Because if you’re not using TakeOff, you’ll be at a psychological disadvantage. Think of us as being like technological Wellbutrin, with none of the side effects.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Teddy nodding. “We’re talking infinite scale. And more than that, we’re talking about improving people’s lives. After all, isn’t that what this is about?” He paused, allowing everything to sink in, then clicked to the final slide. It was the same as the first slide, except that all the emoji were happy now. Teddy was grinning. “We’ve been working more mindfully. Now let’s live more mindfully. Any questions?”
The room burst into applause. Mack tried not to look too pleased with himself, but inside he felt triumphant. If Gramercy led this round, that sent a message to other VCs, to the engineers he so desperately needed to recruit, to TechScene, to—hell, to everyone, that TakeOff was a force to be reckoned with. That he was for real, that TakeOff would probably be joining that elite club of billion-dollar startups—unicorns—very soon. His company had everything that VCs loved: a great product, low overhead, potentially infinite scale, a charismatic founder.
James looked up from his Moleskine notebook, where he’d been jotting things down as Mack spoke. “You’re at fourteen engineers right now, is that right?” Mack nodded. “To be honest, that seems low for what you’re proposing. I’d like to see you scale even quicker, staffing-wise.” Mack nodded again, barely able to contain his grin. “And what about product?”
“We’re at nine on that team,” Mack said.
James shook his head. “Way too small,” he said. “I mean, it’s impressive to see what you’ve accomplished with that headcount, but it’s time to really be aggressive about growth.”
“Right,” Mack said.
“Who’s leading that team now?” James asked.
“Casper Kim. He’s been with us for a year and a half or so.”
“What’s his background?” James said.
“Harvard undergrad, hired as a summer intern by Foursquare before his senior year and launched a new product for them. We recruited him that summer, waited for him to finish school. He’s young, but he’s the real deal—great at anticipating growth and where the pinch points might be.” James nodded; this answer seemed to satisfy him.
“Are you at all concerned about the effect on company culture as you scale?” Paul Yarrow asked.
Mack smiled. “I don’t think I’d be concerned about that even if I got to five hundred this year,” he said, and the room laughed.
Another partner, who Mack recognized as Scott Nathanson from his periodic appearances at the New York Startup Series, leaned into the table. “What are the drawbacks of being entirely consumer-facing?” he asked.
Mack answered quickly. “The only drawback is that right now we can’t grow fast enough,” he said, and the room laughed again.
“Have you thought about bringing in a co-founder?” James asked. Mack winced inwardly; this was a touchy subject. So many successful startups did have two founders—usually one was a hard-core tech guy and the other was all business, with the idea that they would complement each other. But Mack was wary of getting a partner; he liked the highs and lows of doing it himself. The risk was greater, but so was the reward.
“I have,” Mack said carefully, “and I’ve decided that I’m better served by a strong senior team than by bringing on another co-founder.”
“Well, we can discuss,” James said, and everyone smiled. “One final question. Why shouldn’t we invest in TakeOff?”
Mack took a moment to think about it. “Well,” he said, “if you want to invest in a company that’s just looking for someone to tell them what to do, then we’re not for you.” He smiled. “If I think your advice is bad, I won’t be afraid to tell you that, even if you are giving me millions of dollars.” Everyone laughed. They hadn’t asked about cash on hand, or about how he was going to make the next payroll, or about any of the other potentially uncomfortable issues he had been dreading.
James stood up. “Thanks for coming in, Mack. We’ll talk soon,” he said, and he left the room. The rest of the partners filed out after him, nodding to Mack on their way out. Teddy lingered behind; he had an excited gleam in his eye. As soon as the last partner had left, he closed the conference-room door and, again, clapped Mack on the back.
“You fucking nailed it,” he said. “Nailed. It. I haven’t seen them this excited about something in…fuck, I don’t even know. Look, man, you’re going to have a lot of options this round, but you really want someone like us leading it because that’s how you’re going to get the best valuation. Once everyone sees that we’re leading it, it’s just like, bam. They want to be a part of it and then you have the upper hand, you can pick and choose. Plus, you want a firm that can really help you grow the business and is going to be able to give you strong, actionable advice and guidance when you need it. We’re not going to be obsessing over every number and every decision you make. But we love what you’re doing and we think you have a smart board, and—”
Mack interrupted him. “So you think it’s a done deal, then?”
“We’re having a review meeting early next week,” he said. “We’ll just look over all the numbers, cross the t’s, you know, all that stuff. But I’m sure I’ll have good news for you.”
It wasn’t until after the meeting, after he and Teddy had shaken hands and he got down to the lobby of the building and walked outside into the crisp fall air and almost did a jig down Twenty-Third Street, that he saw the text from Isabel. All it said was Gotta talk to u. He texted back: Can it wait? Just got out of Gramercy mtg. He hoped she would respond quickly, ask him how it went, but a few minutes went by with nothing. Then, just as he was about to put his phone back in his pocket, a vibration. He looked at it eagerly, but no text from Isabel, just the TakeOff beta that he and a few other employees were testing. Hi, Mack! We thought you might be feeling a little . Here’s a little pick-me-up! it said. He didn’t even bother opening the app, just shoved his phone back into his pocket and kept walking.
8
Hold the Phone