Someone moved up behind him. Josh looked over, startled. When Danny turned around, he was equally surprised.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I wanted to check things out in person, and talk to you guys. Hope you don’t mind that I crashed your party. I told Cynthia I wanted to surprise you.”
Chip Grant was in their house, uninvited, without Cynthia. From the look on Josh’s face, it was clear that he was not pleased.
The next day Josh happily submitted himself to Barbara Linsky’s lunchtime reign. As queen of the table at his company’s New Loon Town Café event, she demanded the attention of all. Josh invited the technology guru so she could meet several people from his firm. Somehow Chip appeared as well, without an invitation and now sitting right next to Barbara. Both were engaged in a fast-paced conversation, which put Josh on edge. But he wasn’t going to show it.
Like any restaurant of the moment, the place was crowded and unduly noisy. The plate glass window facing Hollywood Boulevard framed a large mechanized black bear; the taxidermist’s creation continually swatted at a cartoonish diving loon fashioned out of flashing neon. The bear paw batted back and forth in a never-ending volley that brought neither satisfaction to the bear nor safety to the bird.
Josh never understood what the cafe’s diorama was meant to suggest, but somehow it epitomized the hip and ironic northwoods feel of the place and gave cover for people to order bratwurst and potato pancakes instead of organic salads or free-range chicken. It also evoked memories of old beer signs from long forgotten taverns on quiet wooded lakes, which seemed to mesh nicely in the patrons’ minds with the place’s broad array of on-tap microbrews and ales.
The Loon Town’s reasonable prices and tasty food attracted steady crowds, even as it approached its tenth anniversary, and everyone knew restaurant years were even longer than dog years. But as Josh looked around the room, he was dismayed. He saw no dining guest to excite the paparazzi, assuming any still hung outside the front door—which they did not. The absence of the famous was just another talisman of the need for Josh’s money to move on.
One long-term regular walked over with excitement to tell Orleans how much he missed her as the hostess. Josh found the presumptuous guest more amusing than he knew he should. The fool. He had no idea that Orleans was now an executive at a major Internet company who could soon be worth millions. (On the other hand, it was a distraction from wondering who tipped off Chip about this lunch.)
Orleans was embarrassed by her fan, which Josh found delightful. Barbara barely noticed. Although Barbara lacked fame among ordinary folk, she would have attracted her own swarms in a different kind of place. There were those who thought she provided an inside channel to the future, or at least an advance indicator of market turns. Such folks were as unwelcome as any celebrity fans. When money was to be made, Josh knew there were always the uninvited. But when it came to Barbara, Josh and his company were in a different category. She was attracted to them. That made him glow.
While forking through the wild rice salad, Barbara was dispensing a wild garden of ideas that sprouted from her fertile mind. Josh was tiring from the sheer effort of keeping up. Kenosha had begged off attending the lunch, but he thought back to what she had told him in the office. She claimed big thinkers like Linsky blossomed only when safely separated from other well-known analysts and beyond the ears of publicists. In isolation, they grew comfortable saying whatever rose to mind. No one was there to either prune or propagate them. As a result, on this day Barbara was in full bloom.
That would have been fine, except Chip wiggled his way into the business lunch. Initially, Josh was afraid Chip would dampen the camaraderie he needed to build, but it was worse. He discovered Barbara and Chip knew each other from Chip’s earlier days in New York when he worked as an investment banker before returning to his tribe. Even though he was an investor in the firm’s second round financing, Chip didn’t need to be around. He hoped Barbara would divert Chip from paying any more attention to Premios.
“Chip, you’d appreciate this thought I’ve been having lately,” Barbara was about to break into a free run of thinking, “especially given your former life in New York working for hedge funds. Think about how today’s markets seek to value these new Internet start-ups. But take a step back and approach it as though it were a problem in quantum mechanics. Hypothetically, can a firm’s value be two things at once?”
“Like an economic version of Schrödinger’s cat, I suppose,” Chip suggested.
“Exactly,” said Barbara. “Today’s economy is as wild as any spinning electron. So here’s my question. Does it act like an old-fashioned particle that we know how to explain so well? Or does it operate under rules of some newly discovered wave theory, one of those ideas that changes everything? Surely it can’t be both, or can it?
“Think about it. On one hand, we value a firm based on old-fashioned ideas like profit and return. On the other, we imagine a whole new value system, and we extol the company’s power to be disruptive or create radical new financial worlds. Which mindset is right? Or should we think two things at the same time?”
Chip smiled in appreciation, “Well, if we compare it to the Schrödinger’s cat thought experiment, then the value will become one or the other if we actually look too closely. And if we do that, we might kill the golden goose. We wouldn’t want to do that, now would we?”
Barbara laughed in appreciation.
“I thought it was a cat,” said Josh, annoyed that he hadn’t the slightest idea what the two of them were talking about. He was also irked that Danny seemed interested. Over a decade living together, the guy never failed to surprise him. Whenever Orleans tried to explain the financing rounds that were about to make him millions, Danny’s eyes always glazed over. Now some talk about dead cats captivated him.
Barbara sensed Josh’s discomfort and played the good guest. “It’s simple really. We’re referring to an often-discussed problem with quantum mechanics that states something might simultaneously exist in two states, acting both as a particle and a wave. Years ago a physicist named Erwin Schrödinger imagined a hypothetical sealed box that contained a cat, a bottle of poison and a source of radiation. At some point, the radiation could emit particles that would cause the poison to break open and kill the cat.
“But since the box is sealed, and you can’t see inside, in a sense it can be said the cat is both alive and dead at the same time. Only if you open and inspect the box, do you ensure that it’s one or another. Perhaps the same is true of quantum systems. The act of observation fixes it as one or the other. But until one looks, the cat can be thought of as both, and indeed will act as though it’s in both states at the very same time. It’s a dilemma of modern science.”
Josh wasn’t sure he followed their explanation, “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
But Danny was intrigued. “It’s sort of like that old riddle. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear or see it, did the tree really fall? Like do we exist only because someone sees us?”
Barbara seemed noticeably pleased but surprised by Danny’s comment. “Some philosophers see it that way, but others insist that there has to be an objective reality to the world. They say there must be a reality that exists outside of a need to be observed. Now Josh would be in that camp who wants a fixed and objective reality.”
Josh found Barbara’s comment demeaning in some way he couldn’t quite describe. Danny started to speak again.
“Maybe the answer is that things don’t have to be seen by people to be real. But because God sees everything, because God sees us, that makes us real.”
Even as he said this, Danny seemed troubled by his own statement.
But Barbara found it interesting. “Or perhaps something exists because you are the one who sees it. Maybe we are all God.”
Barbara settled back in her chair as though she found this statement particularly satisfying.
Josh judged what
a mistake this lunch was. First, Chip showed up unannounced, and now he was stuck in this boring philosophical talk. He needed to bring the conversation back to firmer ground. While he was at it, he should engineer a strategy to return Chip to Wisconsin. The last thing anyone needed was for Chip digging around the books, or worse, talking to Colby Endicott. So Josh asked the question that seemed most logical to him, “I guess I flunked. I am still not getting it. What does this dead cat have to do with the success of an Internet business?”
Barbara laughed, “Probably nothing. But to me, it seems a similar quandary. Today’s investor has the dilemma that modern businesses exist in two different states of meaning. By the old rules, one of our Internet businesses would be judged worthless. Take Amazon. It’s not generating any profits. Who knows when or if it ever will? On the other hand, no one dares deny that these Internet companies are truly transformational, changing the way people work and live. In the process, huge numbers of people are developing new loyalties, and shifting the patterns of their lives and behavior. Surely the economy can only follow such mass movement, resulting in a tectonic force of change. As things settle, what will it all mean to the bottom line?
“We would have to be financial detectives to know for sure, inspecting in detail every business practice and every assumption behind it. And after all that, could we even then determine which scenario is true? Any inspection process has its own associated and radioactive assumptions. You can’t avoid it, but those assumptions might very well act as the catalyst that breaks open the bottle of poison that kills the cat inside the box. It is sort of a frightening Rube Goldberg construction shining in the bright lights of the financial day.”
“In short, inspecting things too closely will kill the cat, and so much for our modern jobs.” With that Barbara stopped talking.
“Are you telling me dot-com businesses are worthless? Are you suggesting my company is worthless?” Josh challenged. Why in hell would he ever speak at a BLINK conference if Barbara thought nonsense like that?
“I am just suggesting that we not look too close.”
INTERLUDE
Session Four
You don’t like me very much, do you, doc? Not that I care. I’m not paying you two hundred bucks an hour to get you to like me. I’m here to resolve my problems.
It seems to worry you though. I don’t understand why. Isn’t that what therapy is all about: helping people maximize their self-esteem and become the people they’re meant to be? The world knows I’m meant for greatness. I just have this hurdle in my way—figuring out what to do about Danny. It’s my problem, and I have to fix it.
The thing is . . . it’s not just Danny. By himself, he’s a big enough distraction, keeping me from my full potential. It seems like I never know what I really want to do with him. Do I want him happy? Do I want him sad? Or do I just want him to stay in his raw state?
Yeah, of course, I want him to be mine. Not anyone else’s. I don’t need you to tell me that. By the way, he wouldn’t even need to know I’m alive. I just need to know that I control him.
Don’t give me that look. We all try to control the people around us. Molding the ones we love is the American way. Turn the alcoholic into a teetotaler. Transform the conformist into a trailblazer.
Sometimes I think people only love the people they do because they want to be controlled by that person. It’s so much easier than choosing your own life. And then there are those people like you. All you live for is to fuck up the lives of those around you. What God gave you that right?
Okay, I take that back. You can delete what I said from your tape if you want. I respect you.
But do you realize how hard it is to truly control the life of another? Stupid question. Of course, you do. But there are too damn many influences. That’s why I don’t like it when Danny makes new friends. Who knows what they will talk him into thinking or attempting.
But on the other hand, every new person opens up the door for my experiments. New people who matter to him let me inflict a little pain into his life and test him without touching him directly. Like a slow water drip form of torture.
Take that bitch Francesca Petroff. I didn’t like the way she wormed her way into Danny’s world, sneaking in through her friendship with those fags Wally and Stephen. One moment she was the feared restaurant critic whose bad review could destroy everything they had lived for. Next thing you know she was everyone’s bosom buddy.
And I can tell Danny likes her. Something in her free spirit speaks to him. I had to squash that. It wouldn’t have been long before she would’ve been yet another of his confidantes—the way Kenosha Washington is. That would have been unbearable. I had to find a way to make her life a little bit more miserable. Only appropriate after the way she horned into Danny’s life.
The bitch was so excited about that baby, so happy that her empty bedroom would be filled with the bastard child of a wetback maid. Well, I showed her. I made certain she never achieved her little dream.
You’re giving me that look again. I didn’t do anything illegal. You seem overly judgmental for a therapist.
I just did my duty as a citizen. Placed that anonymous call to the government. Alerted them to an illegal alien in our midst. Had to call twice. Sweetened the pot the second time by suggesting the girl was connected to the drug trade.
Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t. But the INS finally paid attention. After that, it didn’t take long and she was over the border—along with the baby in her belly. So long Francesca’s longed-for daughter. Hello depression. Maybe now she’ll stay out of Danny’s life.
Don’t mess with me when it comes to Danny. Eventually, I’ll get my way.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Partner
The storm clouds that hung low over the city troubled Josh with the way their gloom obscured the hills encircling downtown Los Angeles. While the overhead lights in the Premios offices were bright, a sogginess in the air sucked out all the glow.
It was a typical wintry January day in a city that could always use more rain, but it wasn’t Josh’s kind of day. He much preferred a Los Angeles where the bright, unfiltered sun highlighted even the dirtiest of alleys or most untended palm trees. Subtlety and shadings had their value, but he preferred a landscape under a spotlight.
Chip’s surprise visit was proving a major annoyance. The man wanted to dig into everything about the business. What did he expect from his half-million dollar stake? Didn’t he realize he was a minor player? He only put in five per cent of the second round; he wasn’t like Colby who provided nine and a half million, yet still had the good sense never to ask unnecessary questions.
Josh blamed only himself. Whether it was nostalgia for his days in Thread or a desire to hedge his bets, he was the one who offered the minority position to Chip. His rationale to Danny had been simple. As a successful businessperson who already ran a major tech services firm, Chip could provide practical management expertise and advice, and because of their hometown ties, Danny and he could be certain of Chip’s trustworthiness. But Josh never expected Chip to actually pay attention to any aspect of Premios.
The old saw was true: be careful what you wish for. Publicly, Josh claimed that he wanted someone with the expertise to ask questions. That’s how he explained it to Colby after the man questioned the need to involve Chip. Now Chip was asking questions, and they were the right questions, depending on your point of view. Josh needed to answer them sufficiently so Chip would be satisfied and depart.
Luckily, Orleans was a pro at calming investors and bankers. More than that, Orleans was a grand master of the presentation deck. She could project a slide with the full intensity of hundreds of lumens of light to blast any facts across the conference wall. She carried in her head an encyclopedia of Excel-based charts, all artfully decked in colorful formats, embellished with Premios branding elements. Whenever a slide was needed she knew exactly where it was. Revenue per employee. Costs to acquire a new subscriber. Monthly burn rates. No
detail escaped capture by Orleans and her charts. Whatever Chip might ask, Josh knew Orleans would have the answer.
While Josh understood such things, they bored him, That’s why he needed Orleans as a trusted right hand—someone to keep details in place and alert him to dangers ahead.
But as good as she was, on this day, Orleans wasn’t sufficiently adept. Chip quickly grasped the reality hidden by details. He asked, “Are you telling me that there are no reserves remaining from the second round of financing? I can’t believe that in just thirteen months you’ve already spent ten million dollars.”
Josh could handle that. “It was a necessary investment to get where we needed to be. Success online is all about being the first to homestead valuable territory. Being the first mover, and all that.”
“Where exactly did the money go?” Chip asked Orleans, not bothering to include Josh with his penetrating look. Josh pretended he wasn’t insulted. But Josh noticed that Danny, sitting quietly in this meeting, sent him a worried glance, as though he thought Josh couldn’t deal with Chip’s question.
Orleans brought up an entirely different PowerPoint deck to explain that. Josh never expected Chip to ask this kind of question, but Orleans was prepared. She began walking through the details of a story that Josh knew by heart. In one form or another, Orleans’ stacks of presentations would be shown to a dozen or more bankers. It was one of the hurdles in obtaining mezzanine funding, a series of loans that would let Premios grow to the point where an initial public stock offering could be achieved.
In one way, Barbara Linsky had been right at lunch earlier in the week. No one in the banking community understood the Internet business. Those men and women in their tailored suits just recognized something was smoking hot and that they couldn’t afford to miss out on whatever that something was. They were whipped into attention by early stock offerings such as Yahoo and Amazon. Deep in their money-grubbing bones, they felt the opportunity for a quick kill. They suffered through listening to strategies about building audiences, monetizing content, creating brand equity, releasing disruptive technologies, and all the other nonsense that constructed the tenuous skeleton of every Internet company presentation. All they really understood was the potential for the emergence of fresh meat dripping with the dollar-tinged scent of new blood.
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