#showmethemoney
TODAY’S THE DAY. I’ve done everything I can to prep for this investor meeting, but I’m still as nervous as I’ve ever been. I can sense a pimple beneath the surface of my skin on one cheek, which brings me right back to adolescence. Fucking nerves.
Gretchen’s been by my side every step of the way, helping me answer every potential question and prepare for every potential pitfall. We’ve been awake all night, and we both just returned from our trips home to shower and dress for the meeting.
“How do I look?” I ask, passing her a giant paper cup of coffee I picked up on the way back.
She gives me a sheepish look. “Kinda awful.”
“Awful?” My lips part with horror.
“You told me I should never lie to you.”
“Well, shit.” I set down my own cup of coffee and look down at my charcoal suit. “Should I change? I have a black dress in my office closet.”
“No, your outfit’s perfect.”
“Then what is it?” My voice has a note of panic. “Is it the pimple? My hair?”
I reach back to undo the knot I put my long red hair back in, but Gretchen stops me with a shake of her head.
“No, Sienna. You look like you need to get laid and sleep for a good twelve hours.”
I half gasp and half laugh at that. “True on both counts. But I can’t do anything about either at the moment.”
“We’re ready.” She gives me a confident nod. “You’ve earned this moment, so square your shoulders and go kick some ass.”
I reach for her with a hug. “Thank you, G. I won’t forget this.”
“Me either,” she says softly. “You listen to my ideas and make me feel valuable. That’s . . . a really good feeling.”
I pull back and smile at her. “Your ideas are great, and you are valuable to me.”
Her eyes get a little misty, and I feel a lump in my throat. She clears her throat and says, “I’d totally give you millions of dollars if I were sitting at that table.”
We’re both laughing when Jane knocks on my office door.
“Come on in,” I say.
Jane looks like a CEO herself today, wearing a sleek dark green dress. I can feel her nervous excitement. Everyone in our small company knows how important today’s meeting is.
“Everyone’s ready for you,” she says. “I’m planning to bring in coffee again in about twenty minutes.”
“Perfect.”
My phone buzzes on my desk, and I glance down at it. The text on the screen from my older brother Coop makes me smile.
COOP: Knock ’em dead today. And if any of them hits on you, call me and I’ll kill ’em myself.
He can be a little bit protective. And since our parents relocated to California a couple years ago, Coop is the only family I have nearby. I used to follow him and his friends around our suburban Chicago neighborhood like a lost puppy, because I idolized my brother. I still do.
I text back a quick thanks and set my phone back on my desk, then head for the conference room. The racing of my heart intensifies as I get closer.
Outside the conference room, I pause and close my eyes. I can’t blow this. If I don’t get this money, it doesn’t just mean old office furniture for the near future. Alpha Mail isn’t about that for me.
I picture Jack’s smile as I tickled him on the couch last weekend. His laugh is infectious. The kid melted my heart from the time he was born, but now that he’s sick . . .
If I feel this helpless and desperate to help him, how does Carmen feel? She’s his mother, and she’d lay down her life in a heartbeat to save her son, but unfortunately, she can’t. Jack is going to get worse, and all we can do is love him, comfort him, and hire the best care money can buy.
That’s where I come in. As I think about Jack, my heartbeat steadies. For him, I can do this. For him, I will do this.
I open the conference doors and walk into the room, which is full of men in dark suits. There are a few women sitting around the table too, one of them a former professor of mine from grad school. When I see several people standing against the wall, my confidence surges. I told the investors they could invite anyone else who might be interested, and it looks like they did.
“Thank you for joining us today.” I take my spot at the head of the conference table. “I’m Sienna Mills.”
Jane and Gretchen bring in extra chairs as I start my presentation. My graphic about the pitfalls of dating these days elicits several chuckles.
“I’m sure none of the men in his room has ever met a woman for a first date and asked her if she was up for a quickie in the bathroom before dinner arrived.” That gets another laugh. “But it’s happened to me.”
I tell a couple more horror stories, one starring a woman who confessed to her date that she’s usually only attracted to married men. That one happened to Carmen’s friend Greg.
Both men and women are nodding and smiling in agreement. Dating horror stories are universal. I’m about to move on to the presentation when my gaze stops for a second on a broad-shouldered man to my left, whose dark hair and eyes command attention. A flush of arousal distracts me as I stare openly for a second. I force myself to look at the man next to him instead, and . . .
Fuck me. Same guy? No, they’re identical twins. They have to be Ben and Ian Durant, whose real estate investment success I’m familiar with. I invited them on a whim. Guess I should have checked to see how hot they were first. Those two could distract a postmenopausal nun.
It takes all my self-control to focus on my presentation, but I manage. I’m in the zone, hitting all my high points and getting nods every time I gauge reactions. I don’t give my nerves a chance to surface.
Gretchen included the article Andrew wrote about Alpha Mail in the investor packet, and I notice a gray-haired investor reading it with an amused smile. Hopefully that’s a good sign.
“I can talk about the business, but it doesn’t compare to seeing it for yourself.” I smile at the group and gesture toward the door. “So now we’re going to let you have a look at the alphas at work.”
I lead the group down the hallway, my heels clicking on the concrete floor as I walk. We make virtue of our office space being unfinished by calling it “modern.” Brick interior walls, exposed ductwork, and raw concrete floors are design choices these days, and to save a few bucks, they became our style.
“We’re going to watch Kell send texts to his clients.”
I stop outside Kell’s office, and the investors get their first look at him through the glass wall. I had all the offices here enclosed by glass walls rather than more private ones, so we could all have quiet to focus on our work, but we could still feel connected to each other. And to be honest, this way I know none of the alphas is taking photos or making videos that are against our policies. Having women beg for them has proved too tempting for some of my former employees.
“Kell was one of my first hires,” I tell the group. “He’s very popular with clients and is always fully booked.”
That’s an understatement. Between his blue eyes, handsome face, and smokin’ hot body, Kell draws attention without saying a word. But when he does speak, panties drop. His Scottish accent is to die for. He’s very good at what he does, which is why I chose him for the first demo.
“Morning,” I say to him as I push open his office door and hold it open for the investors.
“Mornin’.” Kell grins at the group and then turns back to the three computer monitors on his desk.
Investors cluster behind his desk to read the messages on his screens. Kell is in his usual work uniform of worn jeans and a white T-shirt, the sleeves tight around his biceps. He’s totally in his element here, where he gets paid for his roguish ways. I smile as I scan the words on one of the monitors.
KELL: Mornin, doll. Hope you slept well.
LYDIAN: Good morning! Mmm, would have slept better if you’d been next to me.
KELL: Yep, guarantee that. But I’d have kept you up late. You know I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off that fine ass.
LYDIAN: Tell me more . . .
KELL: More about which? The spanking? Or the squeezing? Or the long, hard fucking?
“Oh.” One of the female investors half gasps the word as she reads the screen, her cheeks turning bright pink.
“She’s a longtime client,” Kell says to her with a devilish wink. “Likes to start the day with dirty talk.”
I asked Kell to keep it real without getting crazy explicit, and this is what I had in mind. I want the investors to know exactly what we do here, and that it’s not always PG.
“So how long will this convo go on?” one of the Durant twins asks.
Kell shrugs. “Five or ten minutes? Then we’ll pick it up again tonight. She’s not one for texting while she’s at work.”
“Tonight?” a gray-haired man in a dark suit asks. “So you’ll still be here then?”
“I work seven to eleven a.m. and seven to eleven p.m., six days a week,” Kell says. “And the nice thing is I do some of my night shifts from home.”
“How many . . . clients do you have?” my former professor asks him.
“Twenty-three.” He grins over at me. “But I keep telling Sienna I can take more. There’s plenty of Kellan McKenzie to go around.”
Kell looks at the female investor then and winks. The man next to her narrows his eyes with dismay. I feel a flare of aggravation at Kell’s flirtatiousness. He just can’t seem to help himself.
After a little more back-and-forth between Kell and his client, we move into the office of Sam, one of my younger alphas. He’s a twenty-six-year-old grad student with short, reddish hair who always seems to be smiling.
“Welcome,” he says, nodding to the investors. He turns back to his screens then, and I see he’s balancing a conversation on each of the three computer monitors in front of him.
I read the lines on the first screen:
SAM: You studied your ass off. I know you’re ready.
SARAHJ: But what if I didn’t study the right things? This professor’s exams are hard AF.
SAM: That’s the voice of doubt creeping in. Tell it to shut up. You’re prepared for this.
SARAHJ: I think so. I’ve done everything I possibly could.
SAM: Go crush it, gorgeous. Text me when you’re done.
On the second screen, there’s a totally different kind of convo going down:
ALICIA1987: I gave that motherfucker the best years of my life, and THIS IS HOW HE REPAYS ME? By fucking me over in the divorce? I’m surprised he didn’t ask me to wipe his new girlfriend’s ass while he was at it. He is not getting ANY of the money my grandma left me. She would slap me from beyond the grave if I let that happen. Grammie always hated Mike. She was a smart woman.
SAM: You’re absolutely right, babe. Can’t believe he even has the balls to ask for that after what he did.
ALICIA1987: I know, right?? He fucks my best friend and then expects me to smile, give him half of everything, and let them run off into the sunset together? HA, NOT HAPPENING! And he thinks I’m giving him the dog? NO!!!! All he deserves is a hard kick in his droopy nutsack.
There are a couple soft laughs when investors get to that line. I ignore the third screen and turn to face the group instead.
“So, as you can see, we’re filling a void here. Alpha Mail is not just about sex. In fact, it’s predominantly not. Most clients just want the emotional support they get from our alphas.”
“Is it always the alpha doing the messaging?” an investor in a tailored suit asks me.
“Always. In the interviewing process, we let the guys know that’s required. They develop true friendships with these women, and they know what’s going on in their day-to-day lives.”
“Do you like your work?” an investor asks Sam.
Sam’s grin is boyish. “I love it. I get paid to make women happy every day. What could be better than that?”
It’s a good note to end the demo on, so I lead the group of investors back to the conference room.
“I can’t thank you enough for coming,” I tell them, channeling the confidence to finish this presentation strong. “If you have any questions, I’m available now, or you can call me at your convenience.”
“And you’re looking for immediate buy-in?” an investor asks me.
“We’re ready for growth. And I believe we’re poised for smart growth that will start to pay off right away.”
My heart hammers with anticipation as I look at the faces of the investors. I know not every one of them will buy in, but I’m hoping at least some will. Conventional financing would require more collateral than I have. Alpha Mail will be fine without investors—we’ll continue our slow, steady growth. But investment will help us grow now—while the market is ripe and the business is booming.
One of the Durant brothers glances at the other one, who gives him a curt nod. They both turn to me. My heart starts to pound, because this feels like the moment of truth. And then, finally, after a second that feels like a lifetime, one of them says, “We’re in.”