Venture Forward (4 page)

“You are correct, Mr. Perry. Expertise in building a brand and strategy and then executing upon it is our niche. But, by no means do we handle all the legwork. If you receive an investment offer from Blue Coat, consider it the beginning of a partnership. We need to be aligned on every move you make until we recoup our money, either by IPO or buyout.”

Aaron Kincaid, co-founder of Ticket Me, cleared his throat. “We aren’t experts in strategy. That’s why we came to you. We’ll do whatever it takes to make our company a success. Can Blue Coat help us get to the next level?”

“You’re proven innovators, but you need help converting those ideas into a viable profit-generating machine. That’s exactly what we can offer.”

Mia cleared her throat. “I think we’ve gotten enough insight to make our decision. Someone will reach out to you shortly with additional direction. In the meantime, do you have any questions for us?”

John and Aaron exchanged panicked looks and shook their heads.

Paul swallowed a smile. Of course he was making the investment, though it never hurt to let them think otherwise
.
He’d almost let them off the hook when their faces turned a startling shade of red.
Almost
. But it was all part of the show. “Thanks for coming in, guys. Great work.” There, he’d thrown them a bone. He could be a nice guy.

“
SO WHOSE WEDDING IS
it again?” The caustic tone made Avery cringe.

“My friend Mia’s. You remember her, right? We met while I was dating Kevin.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now. You introduced us at Tara’s funeral.” Her mother, Jane, let out a deep sigh. “I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“She and her fiancé make a great couple.”

“And what about you? Still too busy to find a husband? In ten years, will you be able to say it was all worth it? Your thriving
career?
”

Her middle finger shot up at the phone. “I’ll let you know when the time comes.”

“Tara always wanted to have a family. She would have done anything for that chance. But you… you just waste every opportunity to focus on yourself. Doesn’t it make you even a tiny bit remorseful?”

“I’m not running from the prospect of a relationship. There just isn’t anybody on the horizon.” Her teeth clamped down so hard on her lower lip she tasted blood. Jeez, the woman never lost a chance to twist that knife. Every syllable Jane uttered was a thinly veiled slight, almost as if she wanted Avery to suffer alongside her and could only accomplish that goal through her toxic words.

“I think you should be more focused on the future and not define yourself by how much money you make and how many magazine articles mention your name.”

It had only taken three minutes for Jane to decimate every last modicum of self-control. A new record. She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the angry tears from falling. “Mom, this hasn’t been easy for me either. I’m doing the best I can. Why won’t you accept that? Are you ever going to stop blaming me? Will we ever get past this?”

“Stop with the dramatics. Always playing the victim. I don’t see you making an effort to get past anything. You gallivant across the country at a moment’s notice, but when was the last time you made a visit? That alone speaks volumes.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve got a meeting scheduled with one of the record companies in LA.” A tiny shred of hope flickered in her otherwise-fractured heart. “Maybe we can talk.”

“Maybe.” Jane drew in a sharp breath, then the clipped tone returned. “I’ll look forward to hearing from your assistant.”

Click.
Typical. And with that, the flickering was sufficiently extinguished.

“Dammit!” Who was she kidding? Jane wasn’t interested in repairing their relationship. And the perpetual guilt… it never would subside. She was destined to forever suffer the consequences of her choices. Avery picked up a Rubik’s cube from her desk and hurled it at the wall. It made a satisfying thud and left a deep dent in the freshly painted sheetrock.

Her assistant, Divya, rushed into the office. “What happened? Is everything okay?” She gasped at the gash on the wall. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get someone here first thing tomorrow to take care of it.”

“No, I don’t want paint and spackle to cover it. There’s nothing wrong with a flaw here and there. They build character. Life without imperfections would be boring and lackluster, right?”

“Um, sure. Whatever you say. We’ll keep the dent.” Divya’s eyebrows knitted together. “Do you need any coffee? Water?”

“Do we have any vodka in the pantry?”

“Um…”

Avery forced a smile and picked up a pile of printed emails. “I’m kidding. Kind of.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Although the word is relative, yes, for the moment I’m
okay
.”

“Do you want to review the calendar for the rest of the week?”

“Sure.” Avery smoothed back her hair and flashed what she hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m really not crazy.”

“You sound pretty convincing today. Nice work. Keep it up.” Divya winked at her and Avery had to laugh. The girl had such a fabulous sense of humor, and her organizational skills were unparalleled.

Avery toyed with her bracelet. “What do we have on tap?”

“You’re meeting with Atlanta Records on Thursday to discuss Ally Maxwell’s contract.”

Ally Maxwell. The girl was a certifiable goldmine. Her pipes and songwriting talent, combined with her online fan base, had landed her an extremely lucrative recording deal. She’d taken cyberspace by storm and was on the brink of becoming the music industry’s newest superstar. CrowdRok provided an online stage to anyone with a credit card, a computer, and a dream. Talent wasn’t a prerequisite, although every now and again, a diamond in the rough like Ally materialized, and Avery morphed into agent-slash-manager. Once recording contracts were signed and royalties poured in, the returns were almost instantaneous.

“What else?”

“The usual messages from an assortment of investors eager to buy you out. They really want a number.”

Nobody could put a value on CrowdRok. She wasn’t about to sign it over to anyone, no matter what the offer. “Not happening. I refuse to hand over the reins. We can take credit for five of the hottest names in music right now. Financiers can’t run CrowdRok. This business is about people realizing their dreams and becoming part of something really special. It’s not about the Benjamins. That’s just the frosting.”

“Got it. Not selling out.” Divya consulted her iPad. “You have a guest lecture at Berkeley as part of their annual Innovation Day.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s such a great event. The students are always so enthusiastic and engaging. Totally pumps me up. Would you mind putting a quick presentation together, my darling PowerPoint guru?”

“Anything for you.” Divya looked up, her eyes reflecting the trepidation laced with her next statement. “So, everything is cool?”

“Yes, and thanks for looking out for me. What would I do without you?”

“That’s a loaded question but, at a minimum, your own PowerPoint slides.”

PAUL STOPPED INTO MIA’S
office on his way out. “Nice job today.”

“Did you really need to be so scathing? I’ve told you a million times to work on your delivery, otherwise you’re going to scare off all prospective investments before they make it in the door.”

“Come on, you have to admit I’ve gotten better. Imagine what it was like
before
I hired you to coach me into being a somewhat-affable guy.”

“Affable? Are you
kidding
me? Those guys were shaking like crack addicts searching for their next fix. Other firms will throw tons of money at them and not make them want to vomit into their laptop bags. They have to see you as a partner, not an antagonist. If you scare the hell out of them, they’ll bolt with our cut of the action.”

“I know I was a little hard on them.” He sighed at her frustrated expression. “
Fine
, a lot hard. But they need to develop thicker skins, otherwise they’ll get crushed out there. I’m exactly what they need.”

“Everyone in the industry knows you’re a brilliant visionary and strategist. But mark my words, if we lose prospects, it won’t matter what you bring to the table, because nobody will be there to join you for the meal.”

“This is exactly why I need you to keep me in line. I promise I’ll go easier on them next time. Their business plan was really a piece of garbage, though. Could you blame me?”

“That’s an easy fix. You work on your attitude, I’ll resolve the documentation issues, deal?”

“Deal. I’m heading out. Do you need anything?”

“Yes, I need to finish a seating chart, make a boatload of favors, schedule the rehearsal dinner, finalize the contract with the photographer, and do a cake tasting. What can I sign you up for?”

“Definitely the cake tasting. Don’t stay too late. Call if something comes up.”

He walked into the late afternoon sunshine and grabbed his buzzing iPhone. “Emerson.”

“Tell me you’re on your way.”

“I’m starting my car right now. Should be there in about half an hour, unless traffic is even more brutal than normal.”

His brother Evan snorted. “I’m frankly a little shocked. I figured I’d get a call right about now from Alison telling me you’ve been
detained
.”

“Keep up the sarcasm, and I’ll have her give you a buzz.” He steered his gleaming black Bentley Continental GT onto the 101 and eased off the gas. No fucking shot in hell he’d have a quick ride. Traffic was utterly unavoidable in northern California. “I’ll see you there.”

Blinding rays of afternoon sunshine streamed over the horizon, dancing on waves, crashing against the shore as the beach at Linda Mar came into view.

Once he arrived at the beach, he stripped out of his clothes and into swim trunks. The ocean air immediately relaxed him, every stress dissipating into the cool breeze. The waves were so perfect, he longed to leap onto his board and ride into the swells, away from… everything. Just like he’d been doing since he was sixteen. It had always been his escape, his therapy, and the only way to channel all the anger before it consumed his entire being. He’d vowed long ago to never give it that power, but some days were harder than others. Fortunately, as the years passed, those times had become few and far between.

“Hey!” Evan jogged down to the shore as Paul slid on his Ray-Bans. “What time did you get here?”

“About ten minutes ago. I made sure my calendar was clear so I could get here
on time
.”

“Sue me, I was held up in surgery. I’ve got the scoop on our next group of kids. We have about nine signed up so far.”

Paul stared out at the horizon, his jaw twitching. Great, more kids with deadbeat parents fucking up their lives.

“You know, I really believe in what we’re doing here. BreakOut is a great way to get these kids off the street. They’re getting the support they need through activities that help others. Collecting old boards and refurbishing them for people who can’t afford them, mentoring the new kids joining the program, teaching them how to surf… it gives them purpose and hope. We escaped, Paul. These kids weren’t as lucky. Their nightmare doesn’t end when they wake up in the morning.”

Did I really get out?
Geographically yes, physically yes, but emotionally? Not a chance in hell he’d evaded anything.
“I really hope it has the impact we want.”

“I know. We could have been any of these kids. They’re establishing relationships, learning to communicate — it’s all part of the emotional healing process. And they’re eager to give back and help others. We’re all paying it forward.”

A bus pulled into the parking lot, and five tall young men bounded down the steps. They jogged toward the shore, laughing and joking like the rowdy teenagers they were. A group of girls in skimpy bikinis caught their attention on the way, and Evan clapped his hands. “Hey guys! Quit gawking. Let’s move it!”

One of the tallest, Darryl, ran to Paul and slapped him on the back. “Hey, man. When are you gonna pick me up from school in that sweet ride of yours instead of making me take the bus?”