Never Forgotten: Second Chances (2 page)

Thom tilted his head. "And I still do…" he paused and measured his words "…think it sounds great. But until it's launched it isn't real."

"If you put in the cash, it will be real in six months."

Thom folded his hands on the table. "Craig, what you told me about the product and how the customers perceive it sounds wonderful. But I'm a financial person. To me, it's still just a promise. Even you admit it's a complex program that might not work the way you think it should, the way the customer wants. Even wonderful things when they aren't in hand are high-risk investments. This is a gamble, and honestly I'm not in a situation right now where I'm comfortable gambling more money. Even if I was, how do you propose to structure the addition of capital? I own twenty percent of the company. In some firms, each principle would agree to put up more money. You and Megan own 80 percent, and we'd add cash according to that formula—you and she each putting up forty percent of what's needed. But I know neither of you have that kind of money, so that's out. I could buy treasury stock, but I don't want a larger share of the company, as that would obligate me to involve myself in the day to day management and make me the majority shareholder. So what are you suggesting? A loan?"

Craig slapped the table in frustration. "I don't know. I have no idea how those things work. I thought that's what you did."

Megan caught Thom's eye and saw a twinkle probably sparked by Craig's innocence in financial matters. Craig suddenly looked up. "You don't want to buy the stock, but we could we sell treasury stock to someone couldn't we?"

Thom laughed. "Of course, that's possible, but it would dilute the value of the shares we own and reduce our share of the ownership. Why would I vote to reduce my share of the company?"

Megan tapped on the table, and Thom looked at her. "It sounds like you have another thought."

He smiled. "Okay, I can offer a couple of suggestions for you to consider. Since the company still looks good on paper, the most logical and easiest thing would be to sell the company. Another software company that needs a good product might buy us out at a good price."

Craig shook his head. "We started this company to be in the business. We want to make programs and sell them."

Thom smiled. "And I invested in it to make money. If you are more interested in this particular product, seeing your child born, than profiting from your labors, then what you need is someone who is willing to buy me out and buy some of your treasury stock as well. That way we both get what we want—you keep your company, at least part of it, and I have my money with a small profit."

Craig placed his hands flat on the table, palms down. The rigidity in his body told Megan there was an explosion building inside him. He was frustrated and with the problem lying in an arena he didn't understand he was having trouble controlling himself. Craig was a brilliant coder and a decent manager of software teams, but his personal skills weren't even average, and now Megan had no interest in seeing Craig alienate Thom. They needed him. "We do have options, Craig." She kept her voice soft, offering no promises. Lenora gave him a look that held a stern warning too, and Craig caught it. He took a bit to digest Megan's words, looking for hidden meanings the way he did. "What sort of options?"

She looked around and saw Thom's grin. Clearly he wanted to hear her answer too. "Thom hasn't said that the product isn't worth investing in, just that he isn't interested, given his situation. Other people might be." She looked at him. "And you mentioned the possibility of a loan?"

Now they all looked at Thom. He sat back down and calmly folded his hands on the table, his eyes looking upward. Finally he nodded. "A loan? Yes, it's possible you could get a line of credit, but I can't see a bank providing the amount you need, and you can't point to some windfall that would encourage them to give you a bridge loan. More to the point, a loan would create overhead you can't afford and reduce the cash flow more. You can't know how long it will take for you to earn back the research and development costs on this, much less the promotion money. Even if the program takes off you might not see a positive return for years, if at all. Hell, for all you know another company is working on a program just like it and will kill your sales right out of the gate. The market is fickle. You don't want to even think about walking in that jungle while carrying a load of debt."

"What about new investment, Thom? You mentioned that possibility."

His face stayed neutral. "There are people who are looking at the long game in the industry and if they think you have a product that will take off you should be able to work something out with them. And, by the way, Craig, I agree with these ladies that the cost of the launch they've proposed is reasonable. Lenora is right that it should be more ambitious. I suggest you find an investor willing to take over my holdings and buy treasury stock at a price that will give you at least that much. Otherwise, it's not worth doing."

Craig looked at Thom, clearly angry. "Where the hell are we going to find someone with that kind of money?"

Thom shrugged. "If it were me, I'd go to a broker."

"A broker?"

Thom laughed. "Craig, if you name something that is needed and wanted, and that will fetch a decent price, you'll find there is someone around who earns a living brokering it. Information, influence, and money, such as for mortgages, are all brokered."

"Where do we find these brokers?"

"I can give you a couple of names—the best ones." He took out his phone. "Bear in mind that 'best' simply means they are good at what they do, not that they have your best interests at heart. They serve their own interests first, so don't give anything away." He looked at each of them, waiting until they nodded in turn then picked up his cell phone and sent a text message. "I asked my personal assistant to send you the names and numbers, Megan. I assume you'll be the one spearheading this effort?"

"As the CEO, I guess I'm elected. Craig will be completely focused on the testing and tweaking needed to stay on schedule for the launch."

"Six months from now," Craig said. "What happens if we finish, and the money isn't there?"

Megan glanced at her phone and saw that Thom's PA had already sent the information. "If we let that happen, if I screw things up that badly, then we slowly go under."

Thom stood again. "Actually, you'll go under rather quickly I think, and disappear without a trace. Once your competitors smell that you are wounded..." He smiled at each of them. "I'll do what I can short of lending money. I do wish you luck." And then he left.

Craig dropped his face into his hands. "So now we are in hot pursuit of the vultures of venture capitalism?"

Megan grinned. "I guess we are."

"When we started this company, you didn't want anything to do with them because they take over and often screw things up. I thought you said we could avoid that."

"You're right, and that might have been a mistake on my part. You and I funded the startup with the minimum we thought we could get away with. That worked okay when we weren't taking salaries and had no overhead, but operating on a shoestring has kept us from really dominating the market. In hindsight, if we'd been well capitalized we probably could have done that. We survived anyway until we tangled with Striker Industries. Bill Striker is well-funded. We have your software, but he has both money and good connections in the industry."

"So do you."

"Not like his. He's a salesman and a good one. Whatever you think of him, Bill Striker can sell things."

Craig folded his arms over his chest. "He doesn't know software."

And so Craig had dragged out his hobby horse. It always surprised her to find he still hadn't taken his blinders off, even after all these years. "He doesn't need to. He knows the customers. He knows how to wheel and deal with the distributors and how things need to be packaged to get the corporate types to sign off on purchase orders. The new program moves us into consumer software, and Striker has divisions that have been marketing consumer products, even though they aren't software, for years."

"So we give up?"

She laughed. "No. I just have to come up with the money."

"Then do it."

As Craig started to get up, Lenore stopped him. "If Craig intends to have the program ready in six months, we can't wait until then to start promotion. These action items I've spelled out have lead times and require that we commit to publication deadlines, and we get people started designing logos and artwork and ad copy. We need the money, or some of it, to start doing production work on the promotions at least three months before the launch. Even that is going to be a tight schedule."

Megan sighed. "I know." She looked at her calendar. "Look you two, things only move so fast. I can't force anyone to make a decision, but raising the money, some way, is going to be my only priority. I'll get funding of some kind and a timetable for its release. Once we have those, we can start moving on your to-do list, Lenora. I have no intention of dropping the ball on this."

The air was still tense as Craig and Lenora walked out leaving Megan feeling quite alone. Somehow, she'd never gotten used to being left alone. Sal had left her alone, and she'd never recovered from his absence. Divorcing Craig was different. She'd left him. She'd been the strong one, the one to realize the marriage was profitless for them both. Being alone because you chose it wasn't the same thing at all.

* * * *

After the meeting, Megan went back to her office intending to start making calls, but she sank into her chair feeling tired and overwhelmed and in no mood to make an upbeat sales pitch. She was drained. Empty. Business calls, especially begging calls, needed energy that she couldn't summon. Besides, it was the end of the day and catching people who wanted to be headed home wasn't the best strategy. She closed up her desk and drove home on autopilot, looking forward to arriving.

Megan loved her apartment. She bought it when the company she and Craig worked for was assimilated entirely by a larger one and their division eliminated. They got lovely severance packages; it was the first time in her life she'd ever had a windfall of any kind, and it seemed unreasonable to think such good lightning would strike twice. Their personal relationship had ruptured completely too, so Megan used some of her money to secure some part of her life. She found this apartment, felt the way it called to her and welcomed her, and paid cash for it. She'd taken pains to decorate it with things that made her feel good, with areas to suit her moods, and so that it suited her way of living. She was living alone and created a space that she loved, spacious and airy and open to draw in the north light.

At the time they lost their jobs, Craig had been working out an idea for a new program. Neither he nor the program was of any interest to the new owners, so he and Megan pooled a small amount of money and started Diamond Software. Their intention was to create a company so that he could develop his program, and she could market it. Despite their personal differences, they trusted each other professionally. As businesses go, it wasn't a match made in heaven, but it served in the high-paced streets of high tech. Craig's program was good and well received. When they decided to expand, hiring employees and taking the next step, Megan convinced Thom to invest.

Over time Megan learned that businesses didn't grow like trees and instead took a path that was more like a journey up a flight of stairs, moving smoothly over each step but needing a significant boost to manage the rise to the next one. And this rise proved the greatest challenge so far.

With her mind preoccupied, she ignored the delights of her home and headed straight for the shower, clutching the hope that she could wash away the stress that seemed to cling to her like sweat on a stifling summer day. Standing under the flowing water did refresh her and improved her mood to the point that she began to feel human again. When she dried off, she slipped into a sheer silvery silk robe that made her feel sexy and went into the living room, heading straight to the bar. She dug out a bottle of her current favorite wine, a Calcu 2011 Cabernet Sauvignon from Chile's Colchagua Valley. It wasn't an expensive wine, and she'd discovered it by accident, finding she liked its medium body and dry taste. Setting the cork aside, she got out two glasses and took them to the coffee table, putting the wine on the table to breathe and sitting down to stair through the doors to the balcony at the softening evening light as it faded. Her couch gave her a good place to sit and think. With the doors to the balcony open, the air was as fresh and clean as her body. Tucking her feet under her, feeling the caress of the silk robe on her bare skin, she let her mind deal with the events of the day. Now that she was calm it was safe to think about it again. And it was important to do it, to come to grips with what was going on. If you didn't deal with events you would inevitably be overtaken by them. A memory of Sal floated by, with him asking what she preferred? If thinking about something was unpleasant, wouldn't dealing with the consequences of being overwhelmed by it be far worse? That was Sal.

Sal had been her first serious love... no, her only serious love. A few years older than she, he'd been her teacher as well. She trusted his teachings for he'd shown her that she had the ability to be a predator in the jungle when others tried to insist she learn to be prey. She'd seen the fascinating and wonderful things they could do together. In graduate school, under his watchful eye, she'd started a small service business that prospered, and she was able to sell for a nice profit.

Now she was putting the current situation into context, gaining perspective. It was, after all, only a logistical matter, a question of shuffling future cash flow into a current project. That was what financial types were for. Her task was to find the right financial type. Dealing with financing was her weakest area... she'd damn well have to learn. It seemed to be a recurring need and a job she couldn't delegate.

As that thought resonated the doorbell rang, and she went to answer it, opening the door and seeing Thom standing there. "So you came."