CHAPTER TWO: THE PITCH

Yes!

She could do it..!

Anne set down the glass of wine she was holding onto the coffee table and pulled up ANGEL on her tablet.

She had given this presentation numerous times despite the rejections. Different pitches to angel investors, university programs or that one venture capital associate who had seem enthusiastic but turned out to be heavily caffeinated and hyperactive, lastly the tech journalists who had said “interesting” but never wrote about her work. 

Name it all, she had done everything. 

She had everything down to memory, she knew which numbers landed, which problem statement made people intrigue which phrase made them nod. 

But….

Royce DuPont did not nod or make a reaction as she spoke. He sat on the sofa with a stillness as he watched her. No reaction, nothing. 

His blue eyes made her flustered as he continued to stare as she finished.

“Hmm…” was all he said. 

Shit! She knew it. She had made a mistake somewhere. This is what happens when you’re too confident. Her heart began to beat faster as she looked up at him. “I–.” She was interrupted as someone opened the suite door.

A man probably in his mid thirties walked in.He was dark skinned and tall, and completely dressed in a three piece suit, his hair was kept in a neat Afro and he carried the air of someone who’s unfazed by anything. On his hands were a a tablet and notebook. 

“Your next call sir.” The man spoke completely ignoring Anne, not sparing her a glance. 

Royce eyes finally left her face taking a glance at Marcus, the man who just entered the suite before pouring wine into the other empty glass. 

This was her cue to leave, the silence in the room was unbearable, her face became heated as she took a deep breath and started walking out with her shoulders high.

It was embarrassing.

This was the worse rejection she have ever faced. At least she gets response after a pitch “We’d get back to you” or “thank you for your time.” She needed to leave the suite before she breaks down. She was already close to the door when she heard a voice behind her.

“Leave your contact information with Marcus on your way out.”

She turned around.

“Thank you.” Anne whispered softly but Royce’s attention wasn’t on her anymore, his eyes were focused on his phone but she saw a change in his expression.

The elevator ride back to level two was empty, Anne leaned against the back wall and let out a breath she had been managing since the moment she hit the side board.

Her head hurts, she had less than two hundred dollars in her checking account, her rent was due any day from now and she had somehow just pitched to the owner of the biggest tech company in the world who may or may not be interested in her work. She looked at her reflection in the elevator and gave a big smile.?

Don’t get excited, she thought. He took your contact doesn’t mean he would call. It was just a polite version of nothing. Don’t get your hopes up for nothing.

Small victories.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened on the conference floor with the noise of over a hundred people. Anne walked back into it with deliberate internal refusal to read anything into Royce expression when she thanked him. 

###

Marcus Webb– Royce’ Executive Assistant, watched the suite door close and turned back to find his boss standing at the window already, phone in hand looking out to the city. “Should I have her removed from the conference list?” He had dealt with similar cases of unauthorized suite access in the past. It wasn’t the first time someone sneaked in to pitch to his boss. 

Royce didn’t answer immediately. “Sir?”

“Find out who she is, full profile of everything that I need to know.” 

Marcus made the note without expression. “And your next call?”

“I’ll take it on my way down.” He was already moving, Marcus fell into step behind him. But at the door Royce stopped, just a second.

A shocked expression was on Marcus face. In all six years he had worked for him for, he had learned that Royce DuPont did not pause, not for anything or anyone. 

“I need her profile immediately”. Then he was gone into the hallway, phone already to his ear talking. 

Marcus stood in the empty suit, looking at tge two wine glasses on the coffe table, one slightly empty and the other barely touched and wrote Anne Brooke at the top of a fresh page in his notebook.