My finger traces the rim of the cup. “I had a... situation... during my time there, which resulted in me leaving the job I’d worked very hard for. In hindsight, I wish I’d had a resource like this to help me figure out my next steps. How to talk about it, how to handle things better. So I didn’t feel so alone.”
Cecily squeezes my hand under the table.
Bernadette nods, as though confirming a suspicion she’d had from the moment I sat down.
I lean back, my heart pounding as she flicks her silver-gray hair over her ear.
“I read your pitch deck this morning, and I like what you’re doing. I am willing to discuss this further; my only other question is can you afford me?”
The numbers in my bank account flash before my eyes; the answer is no, but the moment I admit that this meeting is over. The draft email to Odericco Investments burns a hole in my side. The rejections folder bashes against my temples. I am blacklisted because of what happened.
Cecily begins to proclaim the PR’d version of the truth. “Well, we are in the process of seeking fu—”
I interrupt before she can finish her sentence. “We are in talks with investors who have a keen interest in Wyst. The funding we are discussing with them will take us through tothe public launch and help us expand our growing team, as well as partner with a high-profile ambassador such as yourself.”
Bernadette sips her tea and nods lightly. “When will you have funding?”
“I’ll know more in a few weeks.” I nod, lying through my teeth. I wonder if she can tell because she gives me an almost imperceptible look like she knows I’m scrambling.
Bernadette taps her perfect fingernails on the table. “You know I can’t say yes to anything without a definitive contract?”
Cecily’s smile falters into seriousness as she follows my lead. “How about a deferred payment schedule?”
“I’m an international bestseller, I don’t do IOUs,” she says smoothly. God, I wish I was her.
We attempt to bow out gracefully, saying our pleasantries, goodbyes, and we’ll-be-in-touches while both knowing we don’t currently have the money to make this happen.
Stepping out of the hotel onto the pavement, Cecily takes my arm in hers. “So you know that thing you said about funding? That wasn’t referring to what I think it is, right?”
I avoid her gaze, focusing on the traffic light. “The Odericco competition? Yes.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “But what are you going to say? ‘Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention during the application process and I’m actually a woman’?” If I say that, they might wonder why I did it, then realize who I am. What if exactly the same thing happens as it did with William at the bar?
“Nooooo,” I drawl nonchalantly, “Odericco Investments is cutthroat. They would never give us a chance after a mistake like that.” And the moment they find out I’m in charge they’regoing to use this “clerical error” as an excuse not to give Wyst a chance. But I can’t lie, can I?
If you were a man, you’d probably have funding by now.
I look at her, the sheepishness unavoidable across my face. The only way out of this hole is money. And it’s just a call. I’m an idiot for getting myself into this situation, but I’d be an idiot to let it slip through my fingers. Do I really have a choice? I have an in; even if we got knocked out of the first round of the competition, the platform might attract other smaller investors. Being on the world’s stage is money-can’t-buy levels of exposure.
We stare at each other, unsure of our next move. Until Cecily finally breaks the silence with a nod. “Fake it till you make it, right?”
I shrug. “It’s just a call. It probably won’t go anywhere anyway.”
As we cross the road, the winter wind blowing against our faces, I pull out my phone and delete the drafted email before starting a fresh reply.
Dear Mr. Kavanagh,
Thank you for your request. I have some other calls with potential investors this week. Would another member of my team be able to take the call?
Best,
Jess Cole
Shit.
I delete my first name, typeMr.instead, and press send beforeI can think about it. This is fine, just a slight fudging of the truth to cover up a stupid mistake to hide an even stupider mistake.
A reply comes back almost instantly.
