Across the lobby, Victoria throws her head back, laughing at something one of the German investors said. She’s wearing a cream Chanel suit that probably cost $6,000. Her diamond earrings catch the light every time she moves. Her hair is pulled back so tight it looks painful. The two Germans aren’t laughing with her. They’re checking their watches. They have a flight to catch.
Darien walks toward them. His leather portfolio is tucked under his arm. He’s rehearsed this moment. Firm handshake, warm smile. Thank you for taking the time to meet Miss Ashford. She turns. Her eyes land on him. Her smile doesn’t just fade. It transforms into something else entirely. She looks at his polo shirt, then his khakis, then his sneakers.
Her gaze travels back up to his face, and her lip actually curls. Can I help you? It’s not a friendly question. It’s the tone you’d use on someone who knocked on your door selling something you don’t want. Darion Cole. He extends his hand, smiling. We have a 9:00 meeting about the series C investment for Ashford Technologies. Victoria looks at his outstretched hand.
She doesn’t move. Her hands stay clasped in front of her designer purse. Cole Ventures, right? He tries to keep his voice warm. My assistant Priya confirmed with your office 3 weeks ago. Cole Ventures. Victoria repeats the name like she’s tasting something spoiled. I’ve never heard of it.
One of the German investors, a man with silver hair and wire- rimmed glasses, clears his throat. Victoria, perhaps we should. She holds up one manicured finger. Wait, listen. Victoria takes a step closer to Darien. Close enough that he can smell her perfume. Something floral and expensive. I don’t know how you got the address for this meeting, but this is invitation only. I was invited.
Darien keeps his hand extended. If there’s confusion, you can call your assistant, Jenny, right? She confirmed last Tuesday. What I can see, Victoria’s voice gets louder, is that you showed up to a business meeting dressed like you’re going to a barbecue. The German investors exchange glances. The silver-haired man whispers to his colleague in German. Does his Unanga name? This is uncomfortable. Ms.
Ashford. Darien lowers his hand slowly. I understand this is unexpected, but unexpected? Victoria laughs. It’s not a happy sound. What’s unexpected is someone like you thinking you can just walk into a meeting with serious investors. Someone like you. The words hang in the air.
A woman sitting on a nearby couch looks up from her phone. A concierge behind the desk stops typing. Darien feels the familiar weight settling in his chest. He’s felt it before at MIT when a professor assumed he was in the wrong classroom. At a restaurant in Boston when the host asked if he was there to apply for a kitchen job. At a conference last year when someone asked him to grab them a coffee. He keeps his voice level.
I flew in from New York specifically for this meeting. If you’d just let me show you my credentials. your credentials? Victoria’s voice drips with contempt. You mean whatever fake business card you printed at Staples? She turns to the security desk. Excuse me, can someone help me here? Two guards start walking over.
One is the older black man, Jerome. His face shows exactly how much he doesn’t want to do this. The other is younger, white, with a military haircut. Darien tries one more time. Miss Ashford, there’s clearly been a miscommunication. I’m a managing partner at Cole Ventures. We manage 3.8 billion in assets.
We spoke with your CFO last month about potential investment terms. 3.8 billion. Victoria actually laughs. Right. And I’m the Queen of England. She looks him up and down again. slow and deliberate, making sure everyone watching can see her judgment. Let me guess, you saw the article about our funding round in TechCrunch. You thought you’d show up, talk your way into a meeting, maybe network your way into something.
The German investor tries again. Victoria, perhaps? No. Victoria cuts him off. This is exactly the kind of opportunist we have to watch out for in this industry. She finally looks directly at Darien’s face. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I don’t shake hands with people who lie their way into private meetings, and I definitely don’t do business with people who can’t even dress appropriately. The security guards arrive.
