It's Not a Date

by Heather Blackmore

  Jeremy beckoned, and Jen followed. She took a seat several places away and on the other side of the table from Kade. Jeremy was the first to speak. “I’d like to start.”

  “Please,” Kade said.

  “I want to understand what exactly your role was in coming up with these terms and where your no-confidence vote in Jen stems from.” If Jen had a pompom, she’d have cheered.

  “Fair enough. Our firm requires that a different partner, in this case Roger Daniels, manage a potential investment in a company that another partner is a related party to. I’ve had no role whatsoever in coming up with Matlock’s term sheet. Jen’s email was the first I heard that Matlock was making an offer, let alone knew the details of.”

  “So how has Roger decided Jen should be replaced, if you’ve had no role whatsoever?” Jeremy asked, adding a disbelieving emphasis to the final word.

  Jen laid a hand on Jeremy’s arm in a silent request to dial back his aggressiveness.

  “I understand where you’re coming from, Jeremy, which is why I’m here. I have nothing to hide. Before Roger decided to take an active interest in Creative Care as a potential investment, he asked for my thoughts on the leadership team. I told him I was on the fence.” Kade looked at Jen. “The conversation occurred the same afternoon the team was at Disneyland, the same afternoon Jen had just stood me up on back-to-back meetings with potential referral partners I’d introduced.”

  Kade turned to Jeremy. “I’ve since come to learn the underlying and completely understandable reasons for all of those things, but at the time, the excuses I’d received were lacking, in my opinion, which is why I told Roger I was undecided. I hadn’t drawn any conclusions about Jen’s leadership one way or the other and, in fact, mentioned I found it difficult to judge because our styles are so different.”

  “You can say that again,” Jeremy said disdainfully.

  “Jeremy,” Jen said, shushing him.

  “Roger Daniels is a self-made man who makes his own decisions, though clearly my feedback influenced him. I hope you can both at least understand where I was coming from at the time. But I’d like to move on, if I may. My advice? Don’t sign this. Try to get more term sheets ASAP. Jen, work with Holly. I’ve already spoken to her, and she’s expecting to help you schedule some meetings, so share your calendar. A number of VCs excluded from your wish list are worth talking to, some of whom I know well. I’ll make as many introductions as I can. Put a bulletproof backup plan in place for your grandmother’s care over the next few weeks, and I’ll personally cover any difference in cost.” She pointed at Jen. “You have issues accepting my help. Set them aside. This is too important.” Then she looked between them. “Make sure to customize each pitch to the VC you’re meeting with and let them know you already have a term sheet. They’ll move faster.”

  Kade focused on Jen, and Jen had to force herself to listen to her words instead of be mesmerized by her body language. Her elegant pantsuit gave her the authority of a woman in uniform, and her directness was an aphrodisiac. She was subtly commanding, all the more powerful for her lack of decibels. Jen schooled her expression and her breathing by focusing on her anger. She wasn’t about to fall at Kade’s feet simply because she was receptive to the message and appreciated the appearance of the messenger.

  Kade continued. “Also, use Matlock’s stipulation to your advantage. You’re the face of Creative Care and the perfect use case. Use it. You’re pursuing a career while trying to ensure that your grandmother’s care is never compromised. And in doing so, your own job is now at stake. Remind these VCs that, unlike them, you can’t just write a check to cover the need. This is exactly why Creative Care makes sense. Millions of people are in your position, and Creative Care is solving their problem. Caring for an elderly relative while pursuing a career shouldn’t be mutually exclusive. Leverage Matlock’s term sheet to get others. Any questions?”

  Jen and Jeremy looked at each other for several seconds, shook their heads, and returned their attention to Kade.

  “Great. Thank you both for your time.” Kade stood, gave them each a brief nod, and left. Jen wrested her eyes away from her departing figure.

  “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I agree with her,” Jeremy said once he and Jen were alone. “We’re not signing that term sheet.”

  “I don’t know. If people like Roger Daniels are deciding I need to go, I have to be open to hearing it.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I’m serious. He and his firm are extremely well-respected.”

  “Screw those Matlock people.” Jen must have given away something in her expression, because Jeremy blushed. “You know what I mean,” he said.

  Jen laughed, the levity a welcome diversion from the sober discussion. She dropped her head in her hand and covered her eyes. “Oh my God. That woman. I’d love to.”

  Jeremy tossed a dry-erase marker at her. “Scoundrel.”

  Jen pretended to fan herself. “She’s so damned hot when she gets all business-like. Good God. If I wasn’t so upset with her, I’d be majorly turned on right now.”

  “La la la. Not hearing this,” Jeremy said in a singsong manner, covering his ears with his hands.

  Jen smiled sadly. “I do enjoy working with you.”

  Jeremy sat up straighter and said earnestly, “Don’t strike that tone. We’ll find another investor.”

  “There’s a very real possibility this is the only term sheet we’ll get. Even if it isn’t, it may be the only one we get from a tier-one player.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s a solid valuation from a well-respected firm. Creative Care’s mission would move forward and your stock would continue to vest, both of which are important to me.”

  “We’re not signing.”

  “Only to lose everything? Jer, we’ve come too far.”

  “We’re not going to lose everything. We do what she says. Use Matlock’s offer as an asset.”

  Jen rapped her fingers on the table. “Easy for her to say. She’s not the one whose reputation is at risk. Only a handful of folks know that Matlock’s offer requires my departure. I’m not inclined to advertise that information to every VC we meet. I made a calculated decision not to use family as an excuse when I’ve had to leave work. Now I’m suddenly going to tell everyone? I don’t think so. You know the biases female entrepreneurs face. Why would I make it harder on myself?”

  “Because Matlock’s term sheet underscores that bias. Your job’s in jeopardy because you’re being responsible about your grandmother’s care. That’s unacceptable by any standard and doesn’t make you look bad. It shows why Creative Care will be successful.”

  Jen pursed her lips. “I don’t like it.”

  “Let me ask you this. Did you believe her about not knowing what Roger was up to?”

  “I might not always agree with Kade, but I never doubt her veracity.”

  “Then it’s clear she believes you should be running this company, and I agree. I wasn’t expecting much from this meeting, but I’m impressed as hell. This is a woman with more startup experience than almost anyone in the Valley, and she’s recommending you leverage Matlock’s term sheet during our pitch. What do we have to lose?”

  “You mean besides our only offer, our company, and my prospects in Silicon Valley?”

  “Yeah, besides that.”

  “Remind me again why I enjoy working with you?”

  Jeremy opened his laptop. “Because while I’m busy paying attention to what our board member is saying, you can ogle her.”

  “That works.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It was another long day involving attorneys and paperwork. As they had for years, Kade and Holly worked together like the movement inside a Swiss watch. Holly handled most of the details with counsel, consulting Kade whenever a major decision needed to be made.

  Wading through hundreds of pages of formation and partnership documents was no one’s idea of fun, and Holly s
ignaled they needed a break.

  “We’re not naming your firm Time Honored Ventures, by the way,” Holly said, getting up to stretch her arms and back.

  Kade rolled her head side to side, appreciating the opportunity for a breather. “What’s wrong with it? It sounds classy and prestigious.”

  “I would have gone with stodgy and pretentious. You’re building an organization to support female-led businesses, yet you’re practically calling it Old Boys’ Network. I thought you wanted to create something new and different.”

  “We still have to demand the highest degree of professionalism, even if we’re affirming that family and entrepreneurialism aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  Holly peered at the various snacks they’d set out in the boardroom of Kade’s condo. “On one hand, you’re telling women they won’t be vilified, judged, questioned, or punished for prioritizing family over work, and on the other you’re scaring them off before their first meeting.”

  “Fine. What would you call it? Estrogen Ventures? Kumbaya Capital?”

  Holly laughed. “I love how absolutely devoid of hyperbole you are.” She snatched some cashews from a bowl and popped one into her mouth. “Davenport Ventures.”

  Kade rolled her eyes. “Talk about pretentious. Should I wear a tiara around the office, too? Put a sign on my door: Please Genuflect Before Entering.”

  Holly laughed again. “You, my friend, have broken through a glass ceiling few have shattered. This is a crappy industry for women, which is why your idea for a firm prioritizing female entrepreneurs rocks. Your reputation is unparalleled. It’s not a bad thing, Kade. Your name means something in the Valley. Use it to your advantage.” She munched on another nut. “How many prospective investors have you talked to about your new venture?”

  “About a dozen.”

  “And about what percent have expressed interest in funding you?”

  “A hundred.”

  “I rest my case.” Holly returned to the document on her screen, and Kade followed suit. Another hour passed in silence before Holly closed her laptop and sat back, arms folded. This gesture spelled more dissatisfaction, so Kade patiently waited for whatever reproach was on Holly’s mind this time.

  “I strongly disagree with your appointment of Charles to the Creative Care account in the event Jen accepts your offer,” Holly said.

  “His doctors have given him the green light, and he’s game. He promises he’s up to the task.” Charles had already retaken his seat on Creative Care’s board, and when Kade had informed Holly of her desire to make Creative Care her firm’s first investment, Holly hadn’t expressed concern at her idea of asking Charles to be her proxy. Since Charles wasn’t affiliated with Time Honored Ventures, the term sheet stipulated the special arrangement Kade had worked out with him, keeping him on the board in lieu of her. “Do you think it’s too soon?”

  “No. I think it’s cowardly of you to shove off your responsibilities onto him.”

  “I’m doing no such thing. Jen doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. There’s no way she’ll accept an investment by me unless she never has to see me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Kade returned her attention to her screen. No point in arguing about it. Her calendar notification sounded, reminding her to pack up to visit her father. Saved by the bell.

  “You’re doing it again,” Holly said.

  Kade sighed and asked the question expected of her, though she had no desire to hear the answer. “What am I doing?”

  “Erecting barriers. Keeping people away. Deciding for others that you’re not someone worth getting close to.”

  Kade closed her laptop. “We’re not talking about people. We’re talking about Jen, someone who has every right to be disappointed in me. She has a good relationship with Charles, and they respect each other. I’m trying to take her feelings into account.”

  “You don’t think you deserve another chance, so you’re not even going to try.”

  Kade tried not to show how deflated the subject made her feel. She slid the computer into its protective sleeve. “It’s not up to me.”

  Holly shot to her feet and shouted, “It is up to you!” Holly closed her eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly upset by her own outburst. “You’re giving that prick of a father of yours another chance, but not you.”

  Kade didn’t agree that was what she was doing. “Even if that were true, I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing.”

  “Extend yourself the same courtesy, and I’m fine with it.”

  “I need to go.”

  Holly made a shooing motion with her hand. “Yes, go. Hide behind your rigid rule-following. God forbid you’re late.”

  Kade set the carrying case down and folded her arms. “Just say what’s on your mind, Holly.”

  “If Cassie could somehow come back to us, would you stop spending time with her because you were afraid you might hurt her? Is that how you’d treat her? Is that how you’d show her how much you care? By keeping your distance?”

  “Well, she’s not coming back to us, is she? I made damn sure of that.” Kade grabbed her laptop bag and purse, and headed for the door.

  “And now you’re making sure Jen doesn’t either.”

  Kade heard this parting shot and refused to respond. Anger infused each step as she stalked to her car. What the hell was Holly’s problem? What kind of inane question was that to ask about Cassie? Holly well knew how Kade felt about losing her. Why rehash it and put her on the defensive?

  And what was that crap about making decisions for Jen? Jen had been unmistakable in terms of what she thought of Kade’s betrayal. Kade was doing her a favor by not standing in the way of what could potentially be a solid investment for Creative Care. The company would get the funding it needed to continue executing its mission, Jen would remain in charge, and Charles, a reputable and active director, would continue providing guidance along the way.

  She wasn’t hiding behind anything. Previously she had, but once Jen had convinced her to give their relationship a chance, Kade was all-in. Not that they’d had time to explore it before she obliterated it.

  She threw her things into a heap on the passenger seat and strangled the steering wheel. How ridiculous to even float the fantasy of Cassie being alive! If she were, Kade would throw her arms around her and never let go. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—distance herself. Cassie wouldn’t let her anyway.

  She flexed her grip and thought of her old friend. Yes, she’d hold fast to Cassie. Never let her out of her sight. Lock her in her condo with specific instructions to the security team.

  Kade smiled as she imagined the look on Cassie’s face. Cassie would hate every second of being hemmed in. Nothing could ever contain her unapologetic zest for life, and Kade wouldn’t want to try. It was what Kade loved in her friend. And Cassie brought it out in Kade, a side of herself she’d almost forgotten.

  Cassie had never accepted Gordon’s ever-tightening control over Kade. She was Kade’s pressure valve, granting her release from Gordon’s demands and freedom to simply be a playful kid who enjoyed life.

  Kade was so far from being the girl she once was, the girl Cassie spent every day with, she wondered if Cassie would even recognize her, let alone want to spend time with her.

  Zero point two seconds was as long as it took for Kade to reach the sad conclusion.

  She covered her face with her hands, trying not to lose her composure in the parking garage. She needed to get going or she’d be late. Though why would it matter if she was? If the person who was always so concerned with showing up on time was the one neither Jen nor Cassie would want to be around, what was the point of showing up at all?

  She dropped her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes. She knuckled away a tear that managed to spill. A shadow fell across her windshield, and she cursed herself for not having left the garage sooner. Hopefully whoever it was wouldn’t pay close attention to the woman in the slee
k sedan on the verge of a breakdown.

  Her door opened, and Holly squatted on the pavement beside her, placing her palms on Kade’s left thigh and looking up at her. “I don’t bring her up in order to wound you. Or me.”

  Kade covered Holly’s hands and laid her head back again. “I know.”

  Holly entwined their fingers. “The best way to honor my sister is to care for and nurture what she loved.”

  Kade opened her eyes and glanced down at Holly, curious to learn more.

  “You,” she said with a sad smile.

  Fresh tears flooded Kade’s eyes.

  “I can’t…for the life of me, I can’t figure out how to get you to do it, but I’m not going to rest until I do.”

  This remark elicited a small smile from Kade. “Thankless job.”

  Holly’s smile turned bright. “Not on your life.” She stood and moved out of the way of the door. Kade started the engine and rolled the window down. “Tell the Grinch I said ‘hi,’” Holly said with a wink.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Day after day, Kade’s father had been making steady progress. Working with him each day to improve his cognition, memory, reading, attention, and comprehension skills had given Kade a strange sense of accomplishment. Speech still eluded him, but he was a willing and engaged student, rarely pushing the tablet aside in favor of rest. In the short time he’d been at this facility, color had returned to his face, and a small spark had appeared in his eyes whenever she visited.

  Therefore, Kade wasn’t expecting the dramatic decline in his overall appearance when she visited after only a few days away. His pallor was back and his cheekbones more pronounced, as if he’d skipped a good number of meals, which seemed unlikely in a facility that prepared and delivered the food. Gordon nodded when she asked if he was feeling okay. She resolved to speak to a nurse as soon as she finished working with him. Additionally, his train set had been removed. She asked Gordon if it had been at his request; it hadn’t.