Vanessa was right; making a business successful was a joint effort. I might’ve been in charge, but I still needed help from other people to get it off the ground. People like Priya, whose brilliant coding skills made it possible to launch the app ahead of schedule. She was here tonight, looking stunning in an embroidered minidress and gladiator sandals. If a guest so much as suggested to her that she didn’t look like a software developer, I’d eject him from the venue myself.
Alex had pulled through, too. He looked like a natural behind the bar, stacking mason jars and popping wine corks like a pro. Every drink he poured, every lime he sliced, was handled with precision and care. Plus, his forearms looked particularly muscular peeking out from the rolled-up cuffs of that crisp button-down shirt.
And, let’s be honest, inPerson never would’ve existed without the support of my girlfriends. If they hadn’t forced me out of my self-pitying squalor, I’d probably still be lying in bed right now, drowning in nacho cheese and regret.
Whit was still busting her ass for me at this party, coordinating the media reps (media reps!) who were covering the event. There were reporters from Elite Daily and Refinery29, and of course, BuzzFeed, all clamoring for me to give them some sound bites.
But I couldn’t do anything yet; I was too busy overseeing the guest list. As far as I could tell, the mapping software had worked perfectly, because people started trickling in through the roof access door forty-five minutes early. When they arrived, I scanned the QR code from their inPerson app to ensure their invitation was legit. Then, after they were confirmed, I held out my hand and asked them to hand over their phone.
Most people complied without a problem. I simply showed them the safe in which the phones would be kept, dropped their phone in a baggie with their name and number on it, then handed them a claim check and locked it away. But some people had full-on panic attacks at the idea of being separated from their devices. One woman was actually on the verge of tears.
“But how will I Gram it?” she whimpered.
“There are several inPerson employees wandering the rooftop this evening with phones.” (By “employees,” I meant Lia, Dani, and Yvelise.) “They’ll be happy to snap your picture and tag you on Instagram to keep the memories of the evening alive.”
For a moment, I thought she was going to turn around and leave. As soon as I waved two drink tickets in her face, though, she handed it over and made a beeline for the bar.
Of course, this wasn’t some special concession. Everyone in attendance got two free drink tickets. I’d considered handing out wristbands and holding an open bar, but after talking it over with Vanessa, we both agreed it was too risky. We were trying to fly under the radar here on the rooftop to keep Ray out of trouble. The last thing we needed were a bunch of out-of-control drunks acting up and causing a scene.
At 6:34, our last attendee rolled in the door.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, as he pulled up the QR code on his phone. “I’m always late.”
“It’s no problem.” This guy was hot. If I wasn’t already committed to Alex, he’d be exactly my type: pouty lips, deep-set eyes, beautiful beard.
Wait, that beard looked familiar.
When I scanned his phone, his private inPerson profile came up on my screen, confirming my worst fears. His name was Brandon, and he was from Brooklyn, and this was the same guy that had stood me up all those weeks ago.
I was overcome with the impulse to chuck his phone off the top of the building, then run to the edge and watch it smash into a billion tiny fragments on the sidewalk below. But then I took a deep breath, regrouped, and reminded myself that the night Brandon from Brooklyn stood me up, I was a different person. I was suspicious and bitter and paranoid. And while that didn’t erase the fact that what Brandon did was completely assholish, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was a different person now, too.
Or maybe he wasn’t. But the dating scene was definitely different, because I was making it different. And with any luck, his experiences with inPerson could inspire him to stop being such a flaky piece of shit.
“Welcome to the inPerson party,” I said, with a smile. “Here are your drink tickets. Enjoy!”
“Thanks.” He took the tickets and walked away.
Asshole.
With our last guest checked in, I was free from my post at the door. I locked up the safe, tucked the key in my pocket, and went to join Whit with the media representatives.
“Melanie, this party is amazing,” one woman said.
“Where did you get those lanterns?” another asked.
“Oh, thank you, but I can’t take credit for all of this. My roommate, Vanessa Pratt, is my event coordinator. She put this all together.”
Their fingers tapped away at their phones, taking notes. As their eyes fixated on their screens, I casually scanned the room in search of Tisha.
“There’s been a lot of buzz on the street with regard to first-round financing,” one of them said. “Is it true you’re in talks with Hatch to join their next incubation period?”
Undoubtedly, Vijay had planted that little crumb. I laughed, loudly. “There is no way I would ever willingly go back to that office. Hatch is a terrible company run by terrible people.”
I hoped they quoted me on that one.
“Are you looking for funding from other sources?”
Just as I opened my mouth to answer, I spotted Tisha. She was standing in the corner, studying the crowd, whispering to a man and a woman beside her.
This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for.
I’d better not screw it up.
“Excuse me,” I said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The three investors saw me approach and abruptly ended their conversation.
“Ms. Cole, it’s nice to see you again.” I extended my hand and she shook it. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me. Ms. Strickland, I’d like to introduce you to two of my colleagues. This is Catherine Sokolov and Byron Yang.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Can I get you anything? Water or a glass of wine, maybe?”
They all said, “No, thank you,” and I waited for them to say something else. To ask a question or pay a compliment or talk about how nice the weather was that night. Instead, I was met with stony silence as they exchanged uncomfortable glances. Like they were totally underwhelmed with what they saw, and wanted me to leave so they could ridicule me in private.
“Well,” I said, “I’ve gotta get back to work here, so if there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
My stomach twisted in painful knots. I walked to the bar and asked Alex for a glass of club soda.