She laughs on an exhale, shaking her head again. We’re back to that. “So tell me about Brainy Biz. My brother talked about it once, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Sassy sass sassafras.“Brainy Biz is a platform that’s essentially LinkedIn and GoFundMe with the matching algorithms of a dating app—for people in the computer and applied science fields. It helps with recruiting by matching technical talent with companies. Helps with matching technical projects and smaller start-ups with funding. All using algorithm-driven matching. We use deep compatibility metrics. It also offers services to help techies optimize their job seeking and marketing skills.”
Instead of being impressed by my shrewd ability to find a gap in the market, she says wryly, “Sounds like a highly necessary service.”
“Actually, I’m very grateful to you.”
“Grateful? To me? Why?”
“In a way, you inspired me to come up with the idea for Brainy Biz. Because you were always telling me how bad I am at connecting with people and so are all brainy nerds. I decided to help out guys like Former Me.”
“Oh. Well, now.” Her face lights up in that mischievous way it used to light up when she was around eight years old and I slept over at their house. Half an hour later, I’d get into my sleeping bag and find a dozen rubber snakes in there. “So, what you’re saying is you kind of owe me, what, half of your amassed fortune?”
I would gladly give her half of everything I own. All of it, even. Well. Not all of it. As much as she needs.
She lowers her voice and says, “I mean, you’re an actual millionaire now, right?”
Gosh, that’s cute. “Billionaire,” I say calmly. “I’m an actual billionaire.”
She stops in her tracks for a second, her eyes widening. Then she blinks and says, “Right. Billionaire. Right.” She shrugs and keeps walking. “So, I forgot a zero.”
Gosh, that’s even cuter.
She stops in her tracks again and squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them, she waves her hand in front of my face, like she’s erasing a whiteboard. “You didn’t hear me say that. I saidthree zeros. Is that right? Who even knows.” She cradles her head in her hands, lowering her voice again, even though I know what she really wants to do is scream. “That issomuch money!”
As she combs her fingers through her long, shiny hair again, she groans. She probably did not intend for it to sound sensual, but it does. “God. Of all the annoying things about you, Johnny, this is the most annoying. Why do you even need that much money? Why does anyone need that much?!”
I am momentarily baffled. This never happens. Probably because nobody has ever asked me that before. It has been years since anyone challenged me. I don’t enjoy being baffled. But I do enjoy challenging questions. Especially when they’re Olivia’s questions. About me.
“That’s an important question,” I say. “I don’tneedthat much money, Olivia. But money is a means to an end, and I have a lot of specific, strategic plans. Many of them are philanthropic, and they actually will make the world a better place. But it’s not the kind of thing I can explain to you in a casual conversation as we stroll down a busy sidewalk.”
She sighs loudly. I wonder if women sigh like this around all men, or if it’s just me. “Roger that… So you’re a tech guy? And you sold your company, right? I remember Nathan and my mom talking about it when I was back home.”
“I did, yes. I’m still an advisor, but I sold Brainy Biz for billions, and now I invest in other people’s start-ups. Investing in early-stage technology companies was always the goal.”
She scrunches up her face. This appears to fluster her even more than the zeros. “It was? Then why didn’t you go to Harvard Business instead of MIT?”
“It’s my understanding of the tech world that gives me an edge. I’m an idea guy too. A facilitator. I’m not just a guy who looks at the numbers. That’s why certain tech guys—or tech women—trust me more than other VCs. I speak both languages.”
“Yeah. You just don’t speakmylanguage. VCs? Let me guess. Virgin Computernerds?”
Adorable.
Her smile is so smug, I bet she’s dying to give herself a high five.
“Computer nerdsis actually two words. And no,VCstands forventure capital. Private equity. The people or firms who fund start-ups.” I lower my voice and lean in, just as she did, saying, “And you may be pleased to know, Olivia, that I haven’t been a virgin for quite some time.”
And there’s that snort-laugh again. “Why, Johnny, Iamterribly pleased to know this.”
She might be pleased, but she’s blushing. She knows she’s blushing, because she touches her hands to her cheeks as she looks away. She is so embarrassed that she is blushing. And now she’s mad. This is exactly as mad and flushed as she used to get when I pulled her pigtails.
Back when it didn’t even occur to me that my best friend’s little sister would grow up to be this beautiful, desirable woman.
She clears her throat, and I watch as she commands herself to get a grip. And she does. It’s rather impressive.
We slow our pace as we approach a small, nondescript residential building. The entrance has a black metal security door in front of it. There is one unimpressive tree on the sidewalk near the curb and several cigarette butts flattened into the packed dirt that surrounds it.
“This is me.” She glances up at me and adds, “It’s nice inside.” Her tone is defensive.
