1
Tom
I scanned the table of investors and cleared my throat. This was going to be a breeze.
Or at least it should be.
“Hello, everyone,” I said, nodding at the eleven people spread out along the oval table in the presentation room.
I’d had this room built for just this purpose, allowing me to comfortably host the investors all while showing off what they were putting their money into without seeming braggy. The tall windows had a terrific view of the bay, and the chairs were high-back leather and extraordinarily comfortable. It was a room designed to say, “you spent your money wisely, so keep giving us more.” It looked like it was working for them, except for one older man in the corner. I made sure to make eye contact with him as much as possible.
“I’m glad to see we were all able to make it in person, and I’m happy with the attendance,” I said.
“It just a mid-quarter meeting. It better be worth my time,” came the rough, cranky voice of the investor in the corner. His name was Robert C. Fuller, and he was clearly unimpressed. Not that I was at all shocked by that because being unimpressed was essentially his perpetual state of being.
“Oh, I assure you, Mr. Fuller, it will be,” I said.
There was a time when I would have liked to think exorbitantly wealthy people building the foundation of powerful companies had at least a modicum of self-control and decorum, but no, that was not the case.
Mr. Fuller was the lesson I had to learn and apparently had to keep on learning. I kept reminding myself my mother would want me to be nice. She always taught me that the smartest and strongest man in the room was usually the quietest. While I wasn’t entirely sure I bought that as a blanket principle, sometimes it helped keep my mouth shut.
In all honesty, it was probably just that thinking about my mother was what kept me from lashing out and telling Mr. Fuller I didn’t need him or his money. Working as hard as I did was for me and my own success, but there was much more than that. The bar I’d bought for my brothers to run in our hometown of Astoria, Oregon, was to make sure they could take care of our parents.
Six months ago, we’d lost our father to cancer, but our mother was still fighting against her own disease and now against her grief as well. The stronger my business position here, the more I could provide for them and the better the life she could have. It was worth an obnoxious investor every now and then.
“Well, get on with it, Tom,” he said.
I snapped out of my thoughts and bristled. Some of the other investors called me by my first name as well, but I considered those people my friends. When it came from Fuller, it made my teeth grind against each other, but I didn’t show it. I gave a professional smile and turned my shoulder toward him to start the presentation.
“Without further delay,” I said, tapping a button on my phone. The wall behind me faded and then brightened, going from what looked like a nondescript light grey wall to a screen I could control. “As you can see, our projections were for a mild increase in spending on research and development, that would be matched and surpassed by projections for sales and licensing.”
In the corner, Mr. Fuller crossed his arms over his chest and made a grunting noise. I glanced his way but pressed on. I brought up the next slide.
There was an audible gasp in the room, and I grinned. Several of the investors’ eyes had lit up, and I could see a few of them punching messages into their phones. Mr. Fuller in the corner seemed to not change his expression too much, but I was used to reading his poker face. Inside, he was at least mildly impressed. For now.
I continued on, giving them the lay of the land with our current deals and partnerships and where our expenses would put us. The numbers were nothing short of fantastic, and I could see where a few of the investors were itching to possibly talk about expansion. I knew it was coming, and I felt like I needed to temper it a little. There was a lot of profit to be made before we started spending hard on growing bigger.
When the meeting finished, the investors gathered around me to shake hands and try to schedule times to have one-on-one meetings over the next day or so. Many of them lived in the area, but a few had flown in just for the meeting and would be flying out again the next day. Amanda, my secretary, diligently took notes and scheduled appointments, and I made my way to Mr. Fuller.
“Not bad,” he said before I even reached him.
“I’d say it’s a little better than not bad,” I countered.
“Still half the quarter left,” he grumbled. It sounded almost like a threat, like there was a part of him that wanted to see me fail.
It wouldn’t be that far out of the realm of possibility for that to be exactly what he was thinking. It wasn’t uncommon for older investors not to respond well to younger men coming in and finding faster success than they did. I still had a good distance to go to get to the level of some of these men, but the millions lining my bank account came faster than was expected, and I only saw myself going up.
“Have a nice day,” I offered.
With that, he turned and walked away, and I stood speechless in place. Amanda came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. I turned to face her. She met me nearly at eye level in the heels that she somehow managed to work in all day, and I smiled. Amanda returned the smile and then hurriedly looked down at her tablet.
“So, I had to schedule Mr. and Mrs. Keaton for later this afternoon as they are due for a flight to Beijing tomorrow morning,” she said.
“Oof,” I said, and she nodded. “That’s a long ride.”
“It is. Other than that, you are free for the next few hours,” she said, crossing something off her screen.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, walking back across the room to wave my hand over the sensor for the lights. As I did, the lights in the room shifted from a presentation brightness to a calmer, more energy-friendly dimness.
“I could go for lunch. I only had a bagel this morning,” Amanda replied.
“Then off to lunch. My treat. Come on, I have a standing reservation at June,” I said.
We stepped into the restaurant and took our seats near the back. June was my favorite restaurant on the strip where our office building was located, and as such, I visited a lot. I had even developed their app on the side, just to keep myself busy one week. I refused payment in lieu of always having the same table available to me as long as I gave them fifteen minutes’ notice. Knowing them, I could give them none, and they would toss customers out on their ear if they needed to in order to seat me.
As we sat and ate, we chatted about the meeting, and specifically Mr. Fuller. Amanda was an animated talker, and I enjoyed listening to her rant about how rude the old man was. I knew she was too much of a professional to say anything like that outside of my company, but I got to see the real Amanda.
For the last six years, I had grown to rely on her to keep functioning at my best on a daily basis. Not only was she a model employee, but I enjoyed her company on lunch breaks and business retreats. She was invaluable, and I appreciated her presence and her ability to make my work life much easier.
As we spoke, I tossed out an idea, using her as my sounding board as I often did. Together we began to cobble together a few ideas that could double our profits for the remaining portion of the quarter. This way I could show Mr. Fuller exactly how wrong he was to be so pessimistic. And maybe he’d stop calling me Tom.