He glanced at the screen.
His mood changed instantly.
“I have to take this.”
He walked toward the kitchen.
Through the doorway, I heard him say:
“Yes, this is Owen Price… Monday at ten still works perfectly… Absolutely, we’re ready for Monroe Alder.”
I turned toward Naomi.
She knew.
Her eyebrow lifted slightly.
Neither of us said a word.
When Owen returned, he looked smug again.
“Big meeting tomorrow?”
Naomi asked casually.
Owen straightened.
“Investor meeting.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
He mistook my tone for bitterness.
“Once this closes, Price Dynamics will be valued north of forty million.”
Lorraine folded her arms triumphantly.
“You hear that? My son is going places.”
Owen looked straight at me.
“You could have been part of that life.”
I picked up my purse.
“Make sure you read everything before you sign tomorrow.”
He laughed.
“I know how business works, Cass.”
That was probably the funniest thing he said all weekend.
Monday, 10:00 a.m.
Price Dynamics arrived at Monroe Alder Group with an entire presentation team.
Owen wore a navy suit I had helped him choose.
His co-founder, Ben Hall, carried three laptops.
Their CFO, Keisha Morgan, had prepared updated projections.
I watched them enter the conference room through a private live feed from my office two floors above.
My investment partner, Adrian Cole, led the meeting.
Owen had met Adrian twice before.
He believed Adrian was the person with final authority.
For nearly ninety minutes, Owen pitched.
Market share.
Recurring revenue.
Patent applications.
Customer acquisition costs.
Projected expansion.
He was good.
That had always been part of the tragedy.
Owen was intelligent.
Ambitious.
Capable.
He didn’t fail because he lacked talent.
He failed because he believed talent excused character.
After the presentation, Adrian slid a financing package across the table.
“We’re prepared to proceed with an initial $950,000 convertible bridge followed by the larger investment upon final closing.”
