Dark Intentions - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,20

up the elevator to the 30th floor.

A friendly receptionist waves me in and shows me to the head of the table. Another conference room, expansive, full of mahogany, with walls covered in textured and impressive designs, modern and sleek, and undoubtedly very expensive.

Dillard Vasko, the CEO, comes in soon after, a little bit flustered and out of control. He's nervous. He has tried to get this funding a number of times before, trying to set up an appointment with me without much success.

He's a little bit older than I am, and definitely someone who works many hours for a living. The wedding band glistens under the warm glow of the lights, but when I shake his hand, it's clammy and a little too wet.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me, Mr. Langston. I really appreciate your time."

"Yes, of course.” I nod. " Should we get to it?"

"I was actually going to wait for my numbers guy to join us."

My face falls, and he registers that as disapproval.

“Okay, let's get started. I know you're a very busy man,” he quickly adds.

I smile.

I'm not trying to put him through the hoops or make him work particularly hard, but people wait for these appointments for months.

My firm represents over 50,000 angel investors who trust me and a few other people in the company to make decisions about where to put their money.

To approve of the venture typically requires me to travel to the city where the company operates, looking at the expenses and the net worth, as well as a bunch of other numbers and then talking to the CEO about projections and plans for the future.

I'm here to analyze whether he's a worthy investment. Dillard Vasko knows this, and he's nervous.

He needs the money.

They all do, but I wonder if he needs it a little bit too much.

"Tell me about your profit-loss statement,” I initiate the conversation.

Suddenly, Vasko gets very nervous again and gets on this phone to text the numbers guy, who's running late.

I have a feeling that person, the accountant, perhaps, or maybe the Chief Financial Officer, won't be employed in this position for too much longer.

"I'm sorry. I really have no idea where he is," Vasko mumbles, cracking his knuckles.

"That's okay. Why don't you just have a seat and tell me about your business, then? How's everything going?” I try a more casual approach.

"Okay, well, the microprocessors are selling well, and we're thinking of expanding into five additional markets. But that's where the financing comes in."

"And how much are you making a month?" I ask.

"About ten million."

"And how much is it costing you?"

"About fifteen. But you know, we're still setting up all of the infrastructure. We have a lot of expenses associated with the factories, and we're just expanding our marketing and advertising budget."

"Okay.” I nod.

It's not the most healthy profit loss statement that I have encountered, but the thing about tech companies is that they often lose money until they don't. I'm not going to hold that particularly against him.

"And what are your plans for expansion?"

"Well, we see a lot of potential in Europe and Asia."

"Any specific countries in particular?" I ask.

"Norway, Sweden, Finland."

"Are you aware of the fact that they have at least five other large microprocessor companies that focus not only on that but on other features, as well, just in the Scandinavian countries alone?” I point out. “What are your plans to compete with that competition and to stand out against them?"

"Well, we're going to spend a lot more on advertising and marketing," Vasko says, fumbling along.

I wonder if this is the first time in a long time that he has ever actually had to convince anyone of his competence, or if he's just incredibly lazy.

I ask him a few more questions, and he stumbles over the responses to those, as well.

"You realize, of course, that just advertising is not going to be the most successful thing to do to reach the Scandinavian market? They're very proactive supporting their own businesses and protecting their own companies, even if you were to come in and give them a substantial discount. And it would have to be very substantial for them to even consider doing business with you, over a fellow Nordic country."

"No, I didn't realize that," Vasko says.

The silence in the room becomes deafening.

A few moments later, someone knocks on the door and comes in. He is uncomfortably tall and dressed in a well-tailored suit.

"Mr. Langston, this is Zach Blasse, our Chief Financial Officer.” Vasko