I could control this investment fund. I ran many investment funds. The big one people knew about made investments in energy start-ups, nurtured them, then strongly encouraged them to sell to Richmond Electric.
No one knew about this VC firm. It wasn’t on any of the TechBiz lists, and that was by design. I needed to remain anonymous so that I could help my family.
My family that hated me.
Well, I used that term loosely. I hadn’t spoken to any of my five brothers since that day.
I had to help them; I owed them. Even after everything, they would always be my little brothers. So when I’d started making money, I wanted to be able to support them.
When I had turned eighteen and went to college and was finally legally in control of my finances, I’d finally been able to use what little savings I’d had to track down my younger brothers. Instead of a happy family reunion, Aaron, the second oldest, had written back and told me that I was dead to them and not to contact him or any of the rest of my brothers ever again.
I couldn’t just leave them though.
Hence the VC firm.
I’d invested in all of my brothers’ start-ups, and worked in the background to make sure their companies successfully launched. I ran the money through multiple accounts and financial firms to make sure it wouldn’t be traced.
Now that my brothers’ companies were being featured in magazines, there wasn’t as much for me to do, nothing to distract me.
I wrote a few emails and signed off on the Series A funding Connor’s CFO was asking for. When I finished, the sun was setting outside of the expanse of glass, the city far below me.
I stood up to pace in the room. Should I try to sleep now while it was still light out or work out to exhaustion first?
I headed into the sitting room, where a single solitary couch sat in front of the fireplace.
When I’d first moved into the newly completed penthouse, I had marveled at the sunlight that streamed in from the glass, loved how clean and open everything was.
I had made it. I was finally going to be happy.Shewas finally going to be willing to welcome me back in her life.
And then … nothing changed.
I sat down on the couch.
A square of blue paper poked out from one of the cushions.
Take a moment and appreciate the beauty of the ocean.
The note was written in sparkly silver pen.
I frowned.
A selling point of this residential tower was that the units like mine that were very high up had a view of the Atlantic Ocean, a rarity on this densely packed island of Manhattan.
I stood at the window and looked out, the setting sun behind me illuminating the city. There on the horizon was the ocean.
I looked, really looked.
When I’d first left my father’s house, I’d promised myself that I would never take the sun or the trees or the sky for granted.
Yet, here I was. I’d had this penthouse not even a year, and I barely noticed the view anymore.
A flash of yellow caught my eye.
On the fireplace was another note.
Don’t let this fireplace go to waste! (I know you never use it.) Throw a s’mores party for your friends.
If you even have any.
