there have been rumors about my retirement. Though I can’t confirm the timing, I am thinking about succession planning. I want to see you do well, but you need a lot to move up to the next level.”
“I have a Harvard MBA.”
“You need more than that. You need a life outside of work. Holt’s ten-year anniversary is coming up.”
A laugh escapes as I think of our other partner, but it dies when I realize Xavier’s not laughing with me.
Holt might have a circle of high-powered friends, but he lacks the vision and integrity to lead the firm into a new generation. His decisions are conservative because he can’t stand a blemish on his record—to the point he’ll get his hands dirty in order to save face.
He’d rather be seen dining with the right people than actually do the work behind the scenes. Holt doesn’t waste his time rolling up his sleeves and involving himself in nonprofit governance when he can just cut a check and bask in the kudos and tax credits.
Every associate on our team has horror stories about his demands—from the Yale grad he tried to fire when he learned she was pregnant to the intern he demanded go through his office and home closets on the weekend while Holt was traveling to find a jacket he wanted cleaned for when he returned, only to find out later that Holt had it with him all along.
He’s in it for the prestige, not the job. The only place Holt would run our company is into the ground.
Xavier might not be privy to Holt’s indiscretions, but he must know Holt misses great opportunities, especially from up-and-coming entrepreneurs, that could pay off.
“You’re joking,” I say.
“I’m not. And don’t think I’m entirely old-fashioned. I’m not saying you need a woman. I’d say you need a man, if you were into that.”
“With all due respect, I don’t see how having someone to share a bathroom with makes you a better venture capitalist.”
Xavier steeples his fingers. “Having a partner at home is as important as having a partner in the office. It’s less about your day-to-day capabilities and one-off decisions. You need someone to trust, to confide in. Someone to seek counsel from.”
I don’t know where he’s going with this, so I listen steadily as he continues.
“It’s easy to wear the clothes and pretend to be the kind of man who can lead a company like this. It’s harder to do it for real. At a certain level, being well-rounded, having support, it matters.”
“Does it?” I shift back in my chair, looking at one of the pictures of Xavier with his family. “When I was a kid—old enough to behave, of course—I used to go to dinner parties in LA with my mom. One of the TV studio execs in particular indulged me. My mom said he didn’t work in Hollywood anymore but liked to be around the people. Anyway, he let me play with the statues in his office. One night, I noticed the most recent award was five years before. When I asked him why there wasn’t anything newer, he said his partner had died and he couldn’t bear to keep creating.”
Xavier doesn’t blink. “One man’s view, Benjamin.”
I could give him more personal examples, but I won’t. Besides, I can see he won’t relent on this, so… I lie. “I have been seeing someone.”
“Really? Someone serious?"
I force myself to nod even though the idea feels ludicrous. “I’ll bring her to the awards gala."
His eyes brighten. “Make it sooner. I’d like very much to meet her.”
And that’s how I take what should have been a perfectly good weekend and fuck it up before I’ve even had a coffee.
I’m late to brunch. It’s not a cardinal sin—in fact, it’s practically a virtue—but my friends are already squeezed at a round table, elbow to elbow as if the restaurant couldn’t accommodate the entire crew.
Logan Hunter—known just as Hunter to everyone except his girlfriend and his mom—Jake, and I went to Columbia together. Hunter's girlfriend, Kendall, works with Daisy and Serena, whom I know from the private high school I transferred to after moving from LA. Serena's boyfriend, Wes, is a top-rate geneticist, and his DNA dating app is one of the diamond-in-the-rough discoveries that's helping cement my reputation in the VC world.
But one person’s missing.
“Where’s Daisy?” I ask.
“She’s running late," Rena supplies. "Something to do with her sister.”
“Lil was out all night.”
Tris cocks his head as I take a seat, my chair bumping against the