by Sadie Hayes
Adam did not, looking out at the Porsches and BMWs in the parking lot, think about Amelia. Or, at least, he didn’t acknowledge that the back of his mind was thinking about her. “Focus on the goal,” Ted had told him, and that’s what he intended to do.
The path to the goal was incredibly clear. He’d tossed and turned about how to save Doreye, how to get what was best for the company and for himself. And then, the day after the photo shoot fiasco in San Francisco, the solution dawned on him. It came out of nowhere, but then felt so obvious he didn’t know how he had missed it. There was one thing holding Doreye back from the next stage of growth, and Adam was the only one capable of eliminating it.
“Welcome, Adam,” Ross Brown said from the doorway as he entered, followed by the hyenas and an attractive Asian girl in a low-cut blouse.
“Just you today?”
“Yes,” Adam said clearly. “Just me.”
Ross caught him staring at the girl’s cleavage. “This is Lucy, our intern,” he said, presenting her. “I hope you don’t mind if she joins us?”
“No, no.” Adam blushed. “Not at all.” He smiled helplessly. She smiled back. Adam’s blood heated.
The investors took their seats as an assistant brought a tray of gourmet sandwiches in and put them at the center of the table.
“I want to start by thanking you for meeting with me on such short notice,” he started. Ross and the hyenas stared silently, waiting. Adam could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He hadn’t factored a hot girl into his visualization. Calm down, he told himself, just calm down.
“Last time we met you expressed a lot of concerns. And I’ll be honest, I was incredibly defensive at first. In fact, I really thought you were wrong. But we implemented the division of responsibility you suggested and we’ve all gotten comfortable now with the roles that are ours.”
Ross reached for a sandwich and gestured with his hand to go on.
“And we’ve taken it a step further.” He paused. “We’ve been thinking more about what’s required for our long-term strategy—what is required beyond the launch.”
Ross didn’t say anything so Adam continued, “You see, our product, as you said, is top-notch. It’s flawless, in fact. Ready to go. What’s important now is monetization. Our focus needs to be on selling our flawless product and making money—a lot of money—off of it. And that requires—”
“Adam.” The conference room door swung open and Amelia, her face flushed from running, burst in. “Adam, we have to talk.”
Adam’s mouth opened in surprise as he looked at her, then back at Ross, then at Lucy, who was licking mustard off her bright red lip. Adam shook the image out of his head. This was definitely not part of his visualization. “Can you excuse us for one second?” Adam asked Ross.
Ross sighed audibly. “Do what you need to do.”
“Thanks,” Adam said as he moved quickly around the table, picking up a folder as he went. He pulled Amelia out of the room and wondered how he was going to recover with Ross.
He knew what she wanted to say to him: that the app was supposed to be free and open-source, that charging was against her philosophy, and countless other tech-age platitudes that were based in her naïveté. No, she isn’t going to ruin this for me, not again.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped as he closed the door to an empty conference room.
“What am I doing here?” Her eyes got wide. “What are you doing, meeting with investors without telling me?”
“I’m getting Doreye funding,” Adam said emotionally, the words invigorating his conviction in what he was about to do. “I’m going to walk out of here with ten million dollars to grow the company. I’m going to become something, Amelia.”
“But we haven’t talked about this.”
“We haven’t talked about it because you don’t want to think about it. You’ve been too busy promoting yourself in magazines.”
“Is that what this is about?” Her voice was angry. “About my being in the Forbes article and not you?”
“I’m not jealous of you, if that’s what you’re saying. Don’t flatter yourself.” Adam had convinced himself he’d moved past the Forbes article.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Lisa and Sundeep?” he came back.
“So that’s what it’s about!” She let out a laugh and touched her hand to her temple. “Geez.”
Adam felt his nostrils flare. How could she treat something so serious so lightly?
“No, Amelia. It’s about the fact that I can’t trust you. And that you’re getting so self-focused that you’re missing what we need to do for this company.”
She crossed her arms and sat back on one hip, looking at him with a half-smile, like he was a child doing something entertaining. Adam’s blood was boiling. This was the moment he had been planning for weeks, the single move that would at once save the company, convince Ross to invest, and prove to everyone that he was a great leader willing to take action.
“Which is why, Amelia, you’re fired.”
She rolled her eyes and tilted her head, lifting her eyebrows. “Oh, am I?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes.” He swallowed and started speaking in a measured tone, reciting the words he’d been practicing but hadn’t been sure until this moment he had the courage to deliver. “Check the papers on titles you and T.J. were so happy for me to sign. As COO I’m in charge of personnel. I make the operating decisions necessary for this company to succeed, and it is my decision that it’s best for the company if you move on.” He kept his voice level.
“What are you talking about, Adam?” She moved her weight forward, finally starting to take him seriously.
He felt all the emotions he’d suppressed since Maui overwhelm him: the jealousy and the anger and the heartache that had made him feel so powerless for so long.
“I’m talking about you’re fired. You’ve run your course with Doreye. It’s time for us to monetize and to make this a big business, and you’re standing in the way.”
“You can’t unilaterally make a decision like that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you—”
“You’re the one who gave me this authority.” He’d gone through all the documents a dozen times and knew he was right. “You’re fired. It’s what’s best for the company.”
Adam watched his sister’s face drain. She suddenly looked incredibly frail, like if you breathed too hard she’d topple over. She’d always been thin, but confrontation usually made her seem stronger, like when they’d arrested her in Indiana and she’d faced the officer with fierce determination in her jaw and in her eyes, or when she confidently fended off the reporters’ attacks in Maui.
He couldn’t look at her. He could think about it later: Right now he needed to go get that check. He shifted his weight to move past her to the door.
“How could you do this to me?” Amelia’s voice hissed from behind him.
“It’s not about you. It’s about Doreye.”
“No, it’s not about me, and it’s not about Doreye, it’s about you.” She paused. “And what you’ve become.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Ameel. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Those aren’t your words. This isn’t Adam Dory,” Amelia pleaded, her voice cracking.
“This is exactly who I am,” Adam snapped at his sister as he handed her the folder he had carried out of the conference room. “These are your signed termination papers.”
Amelia opened the folder, the reality of what was going on hitting her.
“You planned this?”
“It’s over, Amelia. Good leaders don’t solve problems, they prevent problems. And who knows what problems were coming between us.”
“But you can’t do this without me.” Amelia’s mouth was dry, her spirit broken.
“Yes, we can. The technology’s ready and now it’s time to monetize. And you were a hindrance to that, not a he
lp. It’s my turn to steer this ship.”
Amelia, paralyzed by surprise and fear and loss, dropped the folder to the ground. Adam walked out the door without turning around.
Adam shut down the part of his brain that wanted to think about where Amelia was going next and whether she was okay. He shut down the part of his legs that wanted to run after her and take it all back. Walking into the conference room, Adam refocused on his purpose for being here. “Where were we?” he said, smiling at Ross.
“You were saying I’d been right, and that you’d been thinking about the long-term strategy,” Ross said. He seemed curious more than annoyed, and Adam relaxed.
“Oh yes,” he said, and settled back into his groove. “The long-term strategy requires different skills than those that have gotten us to here. And given the truth of your own critique, we’ve decided to change the team.”
“Who’s out?” Ross asked, as if it was nothing.
Adam paused, surprised by his casual tone. Adam swallowed. “Well, Amelia,” he answered.
Ross nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Adam asked, his heart in his throat.
“Okay, I think it makes sense,” Ross said, nodding. The hyenas grinned. “I have to admit, I’d written you off as a bit of a coward, but this is an incredibly bold action. It says a lot about your character.”
Adam winced—him, a coward?—and leaned forward on his toes to hear Ross’s next words.
Ross flipped through the business plan Adam had sent him last time. “And frankly, if you’ve got the guts to fire your own sister, I think you’ve got the guts to do what this company needs to do to make a lot of money off of your product.”
“Does that mean…?”
“No.” Ross shook his head. “I’m not going to give you ten million dollars.”
Adam’s heart sank. Lucy sat back in her chair, no longer interested in him. Shit, Adam thought, the panic sinking in. All of this was for nothing. And Amelia had the papers, so he couldn’t even pretend he hadn’t done it.
“I’m not going to give you ten million dollars,” Ross continued, “because I don’t think that’s the right number. If you actually pursue this strategy, particularly the one around monetizing user data, I think Doreye is worth a lot more than your forecasts indicate.”
“What?” Adam choked, his mouth dry. Lucy’s red mouth opened and she leaned forward again.
“And we’ve recently gotten some more funds of our own to deploy. I want to work on the numbers, but I think you can count us in for twenty million.”
Adam’s chest collapsed in shock and his face went white before folding into an enormous smile. “Twenty…?” he breathed.
“Yes. That’s the right number. But as I said, we’ll need to go through some more analyses, and be sure this is okay with the other investors, but this is exactly what we’ve been looking for.” Ross stood up and came around to shake Adam’s hand. “Good work, Adam; we’ll follow up tomorrow.”
Adam’s face felt like it was going to crack, he was smiling so big as he took Ross’s hand. It worked! He’d actually done it!
The hyenas shook his hand, too, and then it was Lucy’s turn. “Mind if I take your photo?” she asked, pulling out her iPhone.
Adam beamed as the flash went off. “Thanks,” she said, and smiled.
“Thank you.” He returned her grin, following her swaying hips as she left the room and already enjoying his new life.
* * *
Adam’s heart was light as he packed up his things. It almost felt empty it was so light, like all the stresses that had been weighing it down—money and Amelia and what to do—were suddenly just gone. He felt his phone vibrating and reached into his pocket to take it out. It was a text message from Violet: “Twenty million???” Adam smiled helplessly and texted back: “How’d you know??” Violet didn’t miss a beat: “TechCrunch is tweeting about it!! Congratulations!!!”
He grinned helplessly. More buzzes came as he headed to the parking lot. Everyone was learning about it courtesy of a real-time tweeting mole inside PKC. Lucy, he thought. The fact that she was a social-media spy made her that much hotter. He accepted the adulation from Ted and ignored the concerned, frantic texts from T.J. and Arjun, their lead engineer who had always idolized Amelia.
They’d come around. He was one day away from getting a term sheet for twenty million dollars; how difficult would it be to convince them he’d done the right thing? For the first time in his life Adam felt like he could do anything; like he was in control—both of Doreye and of his own destiny. He told himself he deserved a moment to enjoy that sensation.
If only he’d known how short-lived his liberation would be, he might have tried to store some of it, to tuck it away so he could draw some courage when everything started, shortly, to unravel.
Part II
Parallel Circuits
23
That Path Is for Your Steps Alone
Amelia Dory barely noticed that her black dress was soaking wet. She was lost in thought and emotion, not able to shake the feeling that her life was turning out differently than she had planned.
California was not like in the advertisements. When Amelia had moved to Palo Alto from Indiana, she expected beaches and palm trees; nobody mentioned that it would rain four months a year. Similarly, when she started college nobody told her about all the stresses—the expectations and the deadlines and the social pressures. And nobody ever told her that opening yourself to care about and trust a person was just a way of setting yourself up for emptiness when one day they disappeared forever.
And so Amelia stared numbly as Roger Fenway’s casket disappeared underneath one shovelful of dirt after the other. And she listened to the rain fall on the tarp that covered some of the guests. And she thought about the Math 51 problem set that was due tomorrow, and then she berated her brain for drifting to something so insignificant at a moment like this.
Roger’s sister had flown in from Seattle to settle his estate and oversee the services. She’d asked Amelia to join the dozen or so close friends and family at the burial before the full service at Stanford’s Memorial Church. “Roger would have wanted you there,” she’d told Amelia heroically. “He talked about you a lot.”
A preacher in a long black robe read the twenty-third psalm and someone involuntarily wailed in grief. Amelia’s wet eyes stayed focused on the dirt filling in the hole that now held her mentor.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures …
The reading of a psalm seemed too formal for a person like Roger Fenway, and she wondered what he would say if he were listening to the service.
She let her mind wander to when she’d become comfortable with Roger, when she’d first felt like she could trust and learn from him. It was just after her first TechCrunch interview when Roger drove her back to the incubator. “Do you like the Grateful Dead?” he’d asked. She’d gone to the car expecting to talk about the interview; to hear his critique and his plan for next steps. But instead of being serious about it, instead of focusing on work at all, he’d talked about music. It was that moment when she knew he had perspective, he knew how to live. She’d felt the light electric vibrations of his Tesla Roadster beat along with “Ripple” and the other songs he played for her, and felt for the first time unafraid of being part of a business.
The priest’s lips kept moving, but Amelia listened to Roger’s voice singing the lyrics “ripple in still water…” Yes, Roger would be singing if he were here.
When the last of the psalms had been read and the coffin fully covered with dirt, Riley squeezed Amelia’s hand and gently ushered her to the parking lot.
Riley didn’t say anything as she drove them to campus, until she pulled into a reserved space behind the church and shut off the engine. “You have to be brave,” she told Amelia, and Amelia felt herself nod.
Riley held an umbrella over Amelia, who had blow-dried her hair and put
on makeup the way Patty had taught her at the Forbes event, not because she wanted to look pretty, but because she needed something to do this morning while she waited for the four o’clock service to begin.
Amelia was startled as they entered the main quad: It was crowded with people dressed in black, filtering in two long lines from Memorial Church’s grand entrance. A camera flashed and Amelia realized the photographer was aiming his camera at her. Riley shooed him away and guided Amelia inside.
The church was a California take on a grand European cathedral: Mosaics on the wall and stained glass in the windows shimmered in the light of candles lining the altar. There were easily a thousand people in the sanctuary—friends, employees, entrepreneurs, and admirers. Riley and Amelia walked with Roger’s family and close friends down the center aisle. Adam, who was seated in a pew halfway down, caught Amelia’s eye with a sympathetic stare. Amelia looked away.
Amelia tried to listen to the preacher’s remarks. She wanted to feel some significance. She studied the flickering light of the candles and Roger’s smile in the photo his sister had placed next to the pulpit, looking for a sign. But she found nothing. Her brother was gone, her company was taken away, her mentor was dead. She’d opened herself up to the world, and for what?
* * *
“The Bristols are having some people over for dinner,” Riley offered. “Will you come?”
They were standing in the church’s alcove after the processional following the service.
“I don’t really feel like it,” Amelia said, and shrugged.
“Okay,” Riley replied understandingly. “Can I at least give you a ride back to your dorm?”
“I think I’d like to walk, actually.”
“I get that, too.” Riley tried a smile. Riley was taking it as hard as Amelia; she had known Roger her entire life, not just a year. Amelia realized she was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed Riley’s own suffering today.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia offered, “I know today’s been awful for you.”
“Helping you helps me,” Riley said, and gave her a hug. “Call me if you need anything.”