Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“Pretty sure that’s her brother,” I caution, hoping to save the guy’s life.
“Don’t care. Hate her touching him and not me.”
“Oh-kay there, big guy,” I drawl out, patting his shoulder. “Maybe dial down the serial killer vibes before we track her down and confront her for running out on us. Or else you might end up a Netflix true crime special. How are we gonna play this?”
KAYLA
“Kayla? I’ve been working with Greg on this for weeks. I assumed he’d be here for this meeting.” Mr. Jessup makes no effort to hide his pointed glance through the wall of windows that line the conference room. I swear he even tilts his head, trying to see further down the hallway as though Greg might be hiding around the corner, waiting for his cue to pop out and yell ‘gotcha!’
Greg is not coming. This is my meeting with David Jessup to discuss Blue Lake partnering with his company, Jessup Enterprises (because of course he named his start-up after himself). Or more accurately, this is his meeting with me to sell the partnership that’s been pushed up the food chain with a glowing recommendation.
Greg has worked for me for years at this point, and I trust his analysis of investment opportunities, but he sees things from one perspective. I see them from another, and ultimately, the decisions are mine, as is the responsibility for success or failure. Greg understands that clearly, which is why we work so well together. That, and he gave me a complete run-down on the man sitting at the conference table with me, not only with the facts and figures of his company, but a warning that Jessup is a piece of work with an ego the size of Texas, a mean streak running through his core, and a growing ambition to be the Next Big Thing, not simply get swallowed up by one.
Unfortunately for him, Blue Lake is one of the biggest, most dynamic venture capital investment firms in the US, and we eat companies like his for a snack, absorbing them into our portfolios to do with as we see fit. And I have plans for Jessup’s company, ones he’s too short-sighted and too underfunded to imagine.
“Lucky day for you, then, David.” I use his name intentionally, the way he tried to use mine to denote a hierarchy that doesn’t exist, one where he’s somehow higher than me by rights of age or penile presence. “You’ve been promoted to the big leagues.” I lean back in my chair, letting one arm stretch out over the armrest, visually taking up space with what’s essentially the equivalent of manspreading, except my legs are properly closed and it’s my entire being spreading through my place at the head of the conference table. I give him a bland, unblinking look of expectation as I let the ball fall slowly into his court.
Am I testing him? Absolutely. I need to see how he responds before committing Blue Lake, and our funding, to him.
He lets out a surprised chortle. “Excuse me?”
I don’t move a muscle, don’t make a single noise, and the moment stretches uncomfortably. Well, uncomfortable for him. For me, I can nearly taste his surrender to my little game. Not that I’m playing games. This is serious business.
All my work is serious and I have to treat it as such. Otherwise, men like David Jessup would walk right over me, thinking me nothing more than a nepo-baby placeholder in Blue Lake’s roster of vice presidents. Such is the curse of working in the family business.
Believe me, I’ve considered—and continue to consider—striking out on my own the way most of my brothers have, either with venture capital, angel investing, or something else entirely, but in truth, I love Blue Lake. Dad mostly works from home now, so his influence is more referential than actual on the day-to-day happenings. And though my brother, Cameron, and I are a good team, we’ve spent years building our own legs of the business and creating our own individual lanes, culminating in a broad portfolio that outperforms other investment firms by miles, while staying out of each other’s way. One day, when Dad hands the reins over completely, it will be a fifty-fifty split between Cameron and me, and we will continue running the company as a partnership.
Unless I punch David Jessup in his smug, amused face.
Though realistically, that still wouldn’t result in my being escorted out of the building. Even then, it’d be Jessup getting turfed because at the end of the day, it’s basically my building. One of my birthrights as a Harrington.
Clasping his hands on the table, Mr. Jessup presses his lips together. I can nearly see him playing out chess moves in his mind, trying to decide what move will best serve his purposes, and all the while, his need to fight for dominance in a room where it’s only the two of us rides him hard.