by Hart, Taylor
Mandy had programmed the app to customize itself to the user. She could show up in Denver or Seattle and the app made suggestions, knowing her love for great Thai food that was under fifteen dollars a plate, or directed her to a simple breakfast of yogurt and fruit.
She had of course tested it in Boston—where Lodestone Capital & Holdings was headquartered, just a few miles from her apartment. That was why Mandy had picked this investment firm.
“Okay, one more review,” Mandy said to the mirror. Then she pulled up the Lodestone company profiles on her phone. The owner of Lodestone was business mogul Richard Lode. His three sons and one daughter were also partners—apparently financing and investing ran in the family—along with two other men, Kelvan White and Logan Chase.
Mandy stared at the pictures of the Lode sons for a moment. She didn’t know who was the eldest, but they all had similar looks—two of the brothers were in fact twins. The men all wore the standard power suits, their appearances classically groomed. Hollie Lode was the only female partner. Mandy wondered who might be at the meeting, and which partner might be willing to be her investor. From the research Mandy had done on the firm, each partner had their own carte blanche when it came to deals. Which meant she had to impress at least one of them enough to believe in her business plan.
Her phone alarm went off, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Mandy. Even if she spent another hour in the bathroom, she wouldn’t be more ready than she was now. She just had to get in there and start, then the nerves would hopefully calm down.
She opened her laptop bag, where Daisy had put high heels—ones that Mandy had maybe worn once. Daisy had told her the heels looked better with the dress suit; Mandy’s flats screamed dowdy. “Own it,” Daisy had said. “Just because they’re a bunch of billionaires doesn’t mean they’re better than you.”
Mandy had in fact looked up the net worth of Lodestone, and it was indeed in the billions. She wasn’t going to let herself be intimidated by the fact that the $300,000 investment she was about to ask for was probably money they moved in a single day.
“Show them you’re confident,” Daisy had told her. “Go in there and knock ’em dead.”
“With heels?” Mandy had teased.
“The heels will be an attention-getter,” Daisy said, “but your presentation will close the deal.”
Mandy drew out the black heels and traded out her flats. She’d practiced walking in the heels that morning, and she hoped she wouldn’t wobble in front of the panel full of investors. Next she brushed at her suit, even though there wasn’t a speck of lint in sight. She picked up her laptop bag and slipped her phone into the outer pocket.
Now she was ready.
She opened the ornate bathroom door and walked to the reception desk near the glass-walled conference room. The nameplate on the receptionist’s desk read Elizabeth. The receptionist’s fake lashes lifted as she surveyed Mandy, looking up and up.
Mandy fought the flush threatening to break out on her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Amanda Wurst, and I have an appointment.”
The receptionist held Mandy’s gaze for the briefest moment, then picked up the phone on her desk. “Jeremy? Amanda Wurst is here.” Without waiting for a reply, she told Mandy, “Wait in the conference room. They’ll be in shortly.”
Mandy nodded and tried not to feel self-conscious as she walked the few paces to the glass doors. She reached for the handle and pulled. The weight of the door surprised her, and she had to loop her laptop bag around her wrist so that she could use both hands to pull. But the bag handle snagged on the watch that Daisy had also insisted Mandy wear to look more professional.
She stuck her foot in the door before it could close all the way, and the heaviness pinched her newly donned shoe.
“Ouch,” she muttered, and pulled her foot back. Her high heel fell off. Of course. She bent to grab her shoe and nearly lost her balance, but she proudly righted herself without falling against the wall or door.
Surely the giant-lashed receptionist was getting an entertaining show.
“I’ve got it,” a deep voice said behind Mandy.
Or . . . someone else had just been a witness.
A man’s arm came into view, and he opened the door—quite effortlessly, it turned out.
Had this man been there when she’d bent over to grab her shoe, or had he seen her wrestle with her watch and bag? She turned, aware that her face was likely bright red by now, but she had to see who had witnessed her minibattle with the door.
Still holding one high heel, she looked into blue-gray eyes that reminded her of a winter sky in Boston.
The man was tall—in fact he was at least three inches taller than she was, even with her one heel on. His dark hair was a bit unkempt—unlike his picture on the website—and his hair reached the collar of his navy business suit. This was Jeremy Lode, there was no doubt. On the website, he’d been handsome. In person, gorgeous. With his close proximity, she caught the scent of what must be his aftershave, because his jaw and cheeks looked baby smooth.
“Thank y-you,” she said. Oh no. Was she stuttering now? I haven’t even made it through the door of the conference room.
Mr. Lode’s gray eyes remained steady on hers. “Do you want me to hold your bag so you can get your shoe back on?”
The deep tones of his voice sent an involuntary shiver through her. Oh boy. And . . . she was still standing in the doorway holding one shoe. “No, I—I . . .” Don’t stutter! Exhale, then speak slowly, deliberately. “I’ve got it.” She stepped past him—well, limped—and entered the conference room. Setting her laptop bag onto the glossy mahogany table, she breathed in. Breathed out.
With as little bending as possible, she slipped her other shoe on, then straightened. She’d fully expected to see Lodestone’s gaze on her, perhaps amusement in his eyes, but he’d walked to the other end of the conference room and opened a control panel on the wall.
“Do you have a PowerPoint?” he asked without looking at her.
“Yes.” Mandy was prone to stuttering her y’s, so she was extra proud to have said yes quite nicely. “Thanks again,” she added.
Then he turned, and those gray eyes met hers. Why did men seem to have the longer eyelashes? This man would never have to get his lashes done like his receptionist. And his dark eyebrows were pretty much sculpted, along with the rest of his face. Mandy wasn’t even going to notice his body, or how his suit looked as if it had been tailored to those broad shoulders of his. This man clearly had a life outside of this building and didn’t spend all day in front of a laptop, reviewing financial spreadsheets.
“I’m Jeremy Lode,” he said.
Mandy nodded. Yes, you are. “I’m Amanda Wurst.” The response was automatic and entirely unnecessary. Of course he knew who she was; he’d been paged. And she also knew he was Jeremy Lode, because she’d memorized his photo and bio.
“The others should be here in a few minutes,” Jeremy said.
“Great, thank you, Mr. Lode,” she said. “Again.” Mandy gave him a small, albeit nervous, smile.
“Jeremy.”
“Jeremy,” she repeated. “Thank you.” She winced.
Another man, or person, might have found some amusement in the fact that she’d thanked him multiple times in a matter of two minutes. But there was nothing in Jeremy’s gray eyes that held a speck of warmth in them. He’d been a gentleman, that was all—if robots could be gentlemen. Jeremy flipped a switch on the wall. With a low hum, a projector screen descended from the ceiling.
And seconds later, three others walked into the conference room.
Well, then, Mandy thought. Here we go.
Jeremy Lode dragged his gaze away from Amanda Wurst’s legs, which went on for a mile. He prided himself in not allowing his mind to wander during business hours. That’s what happy hour was for at the bar, although he’d avoided any social scenes for months now. Since his thirtieth birthday, to be exact. He was tired of the pickup scene. Tired of cocktail hours. Wee
kends on the yacht. Aimless conversations. Unfulfilled expectations. Women who turned into felines once they learned who he was.
Within moments of meeting a woman, he could practically see her claws come out and her teeth sharpen, along with an emerging willingness to maim the next woman in order to secure a date with one of the Lode brothers. His twin brothers found it hilarious. But they were still in their twenties.
Jeremy had been surprised when Amanda Wurst refused his help. She’d definitely blushed when he spoke to her, so he knew she wasn’t completely immune to him. Or maybe she’d just been nervous in general. Yet when he’d met her gaze, those hazel green eyes of hers hadn’t shied away. Their gazes had connected, and . . . there was no money-hungry gleam in her eyes.
Refreshing, he had to admit. But then again, maybe she was in a relationship with the love of her life, despite not wearing a ring that sealed the deal. Why that should even occur to him, he didn’t know. He’d never see Amanda Wurst again after this hour was up.
After making sure her PowerPoint was connected, Jeremy had settled into his usual place at the farthest end of the conference table. This was their third prospective-client meeting of the week, and frankly Jeremy was burned out. His workload was intense enough without bringing on any more starry-eyed clients who thought a fifty- or a hundred-thousand dollar infusion into their company was going to put them on Fortune magazine’s list of entrepreneurs of the year.
Such it was that Jeremy had let his brothers and sister argue amongst themselves who wanted to invest with the client who was running a bakery and hoped to open a second shop, and the client who had developed an all-natural herbal tea line—as if the world needed one more of those. Jeremy’s twin brothers, Dustin and Ian, worked most of their projects together. The two were inseparable. And Hollie never strayed far from the other partner, Kelvan White.
Jeremy had suspected for some time that there might be an out-of-office relationship going on between the two of them. But it wasn’t his business or his place to say anything.
Their other partner, Logan Chase, was out of town, so Kelvan was the last to join the group, and he closed the door behind him. Jeremy was officially representing his father today. Jeremy hadn’t asked his dad why he wasn’t coming in today, but he assumed he was probably on another golf outing; those had become more and more frequent as of late.
Jeremy had given his father some slack since the death of their mom two years before, but enough time had passed now, and Jeremy had been calling his father out on some things lately. And the conversations hadn’t been pleasant. Yet Jeremy couldn’t be too critical of a man who had built a billion-dollar empire and had kept most of the money in the family by insisting his children get educated and trained so they could work for Lodestone Capital.
Amanda Wurst, or Mandy, as she told everyone in the room to call her, began with an overview of her app. Jeremy guessed her to be five-ten or five-eleven, a little taller than Hollie. But those high heels of Mandy’s made her over six feet tall. Even if she weren’t wearing heels, the woman would be hard to miss.
That dark-red hair gave her a classic elegance, and her open gaze had an innocence or purity about it, as if she hadn’t yet become jaded by life. Jeremy wondered how old she was—certainly twenty-five at the very least. Her hands had the slightest tremble. Nerves, likely. And a pink flush stole up her neck as she introduced the budgeting app she’d developed. Unfortunately, the idea was like a million others out there. In fact, Hollie rolled her eyes, and Jeremy hoped Mandy hadn’t seen it.
Hollie might look sweet and talk sweet, but she was a pit bull behind the scenes. A couple of weeks ago, a client had left in tears after a few pointed words from Hollie.
Jeremy hadn’t been in the meeting, or he might have tried to soften the sharpness of his sister’s tongue. The client had left a multilevel-marketing firm and believed he could bring along his downline for his new vitamin product. Hollie had thrown the gauntlet down, telling him that their firm didn’t work with lawbreakers. Everyone knew, or should know, that noncompete clauses prevented employees from retaining clients after quitting the company where said clients were gained.
And Dustin and Ian? They were carbon copies of each other, literally, because they were twins, and if one liked something, the other would agree. It could be maddening.
As the oldest sibling, Jeremy frequently had to be the voice of reason and remind them of the big picture. Meetings could get heated quickly, and the other two partners, Kelvan and Logan, had been caught in the middle of sibling arguments more than once.
Mandy turned to the next slide on her PowerPoint, running through the details of why she decided another app of this nature needed to be developed. Jeremy had known before Mandy showed up that he wasn’t about to invest in the app market. The sales growth could take twelve to eighteen months, then peak, and ten other apps would be ready to take its place. Yet the presentation was professional and thorough, so Jeremy could appreciate that much.
He also caught the look between the twins. Dustin lifted his brows, his gaze on Ian, and Ian winked. Then Dustin nodded and leaned forward, his attention back on Mandy, a smile curving his lips.
Jeremy stared. His two brothers could be idiots, but they wouldn’t dare . . .
“Excuse me, Ms. Wurst,” Ian said, lifting his hand, cutting Mandy off mid-sentence. “Have you had anyone other than family and friends try the beta version of your On the Go app?”
Mandy cut her gaze to Ian. “A handful of co-workers, but I can assure you that all of the features are interfaced correctly.”
Ian smirked. “Can you demonstrate the app for us?”
Mandy visibly swallowed. “Of course. I have a demo at the end of my presentation. I thought you’d want to see the financial structure first.”
Bravo, Jeremy thought, even as he threw a dark glare at his brother.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a specific order to your presentation,” Ian said.
Dustin was barely holding back a laugh, and it seemed that Hollie and Kelvan were in their own whispered conversation, which probably had little to do with the current meeting.
“I’d like to see the demo before the financial statements too,” Dustin said, mirth in his tone.
Jeremy had seen his brothers in action before. They were trying to throw Mandy off her game. See how well she stood up against misdirection. How well she knew her plan.
Mandy shifted her gaze from Ian and Dustin, then looked at the projector screen and advanced the slides forward at a speed that made it impossible to read anything. She stopped on an embedded YouTube video. “This is the YouTube channel that I’ve populated with beta tester experiences and testimonials. At the beginning of each video, there’s a fifteen-second demo.”
Jeremy leaned forward, slightly impressed that Mandy was using this form of media as a way to reach users.
A peppy female voice came on, decidedly not Mandy’s, and in fifteen seconds explained the main features of the app. Then a young man who needed a decent haircut started in with his rather somber review of the app. Not a terrible video, but not professional either.
When the one-minute video ended, Mandy cut her gaze to Ian. “Do you want to see a couple more? Or do you have questions about this one?”
“How much capital do you need for On the Go?” Hollie suddenly asked. Apparently she was now paying attention.
Mandy’s neck flushed, but she backtracked on her PowerPoint until she stopped on a slide with a comprehensive spreadsheet. “I have everything broken down and explained, but since you’re in a hurry to cut to the chase, this is the grand total.”
Hollie smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. “Three hundred twenty-four thousand and eight hundred dollars? That’s quite . . . specific.”
“I secured multiple bids from advertisers, distributors, and event coordinators,” Mandy said. “This final number reflects their quotes, plus a ten-percent cushion should rates increase or adjustments need to be made to the origi
nal launch plan. As you can see, it also includes hiring two employees and paying health benefits.”
Jeremy could see more than one flaw on the expense sheet she’d put together. For instance, she hadn’t accounted for the percent the app distributors would take, or how new features would be required every few months to stay competitive. But, overall, the hard numbers demonstrated a lot of thought and research behind them. Not too shabby.
“What would you say if one of us offered thirty-five-thousand?” Hollie asked.
Jeremy exhaled. His sister was lowballing, which meant she wasn’t interested. And Ian and Dustin would follow suit, as they always did.
Mandy clicked on the remote and advanced to another slide. It was a rate chart comparing different loan programs and their rates. At the top of the list was a star next to Lodestone Capital & Holdings.
“I would say, Ms. Lode, that you aren’t my only option, but you are my first choice.”
No one in the room spoke.
“We aren’t a bank,” Hollie said, laughter mixed with disbelief in her tone. “You’re comparing a venture capitalist to a small business loan? Do you know what services we offer?”
Mandy advanced to the next slide. “Here’s why thirty-five thousand would make On the Go disappear in less than a year.” On the slide were at least a dozen icons of other budgeting apps.
“So why are you reinventing the wheel?” Hollie said, her voice smug.
Mandy advanced to the next slide. On the screen several social media apps were displayed. “There’s always room for more competition, plus I plan to partner with the major social media sites. Users of my app can—”
“Impossible,” Dustin said, folding his arms. “Do you know how many businesses are trying to partner with Facebook and Snapchat? You won’t even get an appointment.”
Mandy didn’t respond for a moment, but Jeremy could see that the steadiness of her eyes had shifted into something more fiery. “Which is why, Mr. Lode,” Mandy said, focusing on Dustin, “I need some brawn behind my brain. Money talks, as you most certainly know.”
