16. PEDRO
16
PEDRO
W hen morning rolls around, I hesitate outside Deborah’s office, my heart pounding. I've been dreading this conversation for weeks, the secret of my plan to sell Aira Labs at Venture Summit gnawing at my insides. But I can’t ignore it any longer.
Just like the texts from Aria that I’ll have to respond to at some point, when I can wrap my head around this clusterfuck of a situation.
I knock on the door frame, and Deborah looks away from her computer. Her eyes are intense and unblinking as she takes a long drink from her bottle of Mountain Dew before addressing me. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Just when I was really getting into the nitty gritty numbers on this month’s kombucha supply budget. Make it quick. I've got quotas to hit and vibes don’t pay the bills, my friend. ”
I step inside, my mouth going dry at the prospect of another confounding sparring session with one of the most sought after CFOs in the tech world. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She tilts her head, her gaze unwavering. “Let me guess, you finally realized those Q3 projections are about as accurate as a Magic 8-Ball after your little Tech Crunch interview put us on defense. Hey, at some point, you gotta wake up and smell the financial fallout, my dude.”
“No, it’s not that.” I take a deep breath, rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans as I realize this is going to be even harder than I expected. “I’m… I’m…uh… I’m planning to sell Aira Labs… At Venture Summit.”
For a moment, Deborah is perfectly still, her expression unreadable. Then she scrunches up her face in utter disbelief. “Uh, excuse me? I must have a giant wad of earwax obstructing what little hearing I have left, because there is no way I just heard you say you plan on peddling your company to those smarmy Venture Summit mouth-breathers.”
I sink into the chair across from her, my shoulders heavy as I try to keep my composure amidst her eccentric banter. “I've given Aira Labs everything I have. I've poured my heart and soul into this company, and I'm proud of what we've built here. I couldn’t have done it without you. But… I've taken it as far as I can. It’s time for me to move on. I truly believe selling the company is the best way to ensure it continues to grow. ”
Deborah frowns, her fingers tapping the desk impatiently. “Am I hearing this right? Or did that trendy probiotic gut grenade you've been chugging finally succeed in completely Swiss-cheesing what’s left of your brain? You’re auctioning off our future for what, a lifetime supply of overpriced craft beer and a few bitcoin? Do go on, I'm all ears for this absolutely genius plan of yours...”
Her words sting, but someone has to keep their composure in this situation or this conversation has the potential to go completely off the rails. I glance between her Mountain Dew and the exasperated expression on her face, wondering how much of her reaction is the Dew talking and how much is the blunt honesty I hired her for.
“No need to get all...intense like that. I'm telling you my plans in a very chill, level-headed way. So, yeah, it’s time to hand the reins over to someone else.”
She leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you take a pilates break and re-center yourself, my dude. Come back to me when you've got an actual executable plan that doesn’t involve prematurely pimping out our passion project to the first overcompensating money-haver that shows even a quark of interest.”
“The summit will be full of serious tech investors, and we need someone who not only understands the potential of what we've built, but also has the resources to take it to the next level. ”
Deborah is silent for a long moment, her gaze distant. As she snaps back to the present, her eyes fixate on mine. “You know what? I'm actually kind of digging this idea, Pedro. Why, you may even need to invest in some industrial-strength headgear and safety goggles for when all those eager cash cannons start load-bursting their seed funds in our general direction.”
Relief mingles with apprehension in my gut as I realize I need to listen to Deborah now that I don’t have Jessica to help me refine my pitch. “Uh… What do you have in mind?”
She leans forward, her elbows on the desk. “Think about it… I put together some charts showing our ‘blazing user acquisition rate’ and ‘vertically disruptive scalability horizons.’ Toss in a few proprietary algorithm flow diagrams that look just technical enough to confuse anyone over 35. And let’s be honest, most of those bloated investor jabronis only think in terms of big shiny funding rounds and buyout valuations nowadays, anyway.”
I nod in agreement. Deborah’s understanding of AI startups, for someone who dropped out of Harvard Business School, is the reason I hired her two years ago when I realized I needed a CFO. But even with her technical and financial expertise, I can’t shake the nagging doubts in my mind. Will she prioritize the ethical implications of our technology, or will she be swayed by the allure of rapid growth and soaring profits ?
As if sensing my hesitation, Deborah stands abruptly, rounding the desk to stand in front of me. Her eyes are intense, boring into mine. “Actually…you may want to hit the pause button for just a sec, chief. Because for once, I'm the one who gets to play dream peddler and you’re just along for the ride. That’s right, amigo—I’ve got an idea for my own AI revolution. One that’s going to blow the inexplicably tidy undergarments right off that sculpted developer body of yours.”
I frown, my cheeks prickling with heat. “Um…”
She leans in, her voice low and urgent. “I'm saying…forget selling to some rando who’ll probably just come in and break everything you’ve built. I’m offering a full-scale acquisition, if you will. I take the reins as the new supreme overlord, while you finally get to cash out and chase those early-retirement ambitions you've been not-so-secretly pining for.”
My heart stops mid-beat. “What?”
Deborah continues, her tone even and measured. “Listen up, Ped-bro. In case you’ve already forgotten, I've been busting my butt at this little mom-and-pop operation since pretty much the Stone Age. Okay, maybe not that long, but two years is a long time. I know where all the bodies are buried—figuratively speaking, of course. You name it, I've seen it, and I'm already three steps ahead. So what’s it gonna be? You wanna hitch your rickety wagon to my blazing star?”
I stand, suddenly feeling the urge to bolt. “Deborah, I... I don’t know. This is a lot to process. ”
She leans in closer. “Look, I get it Pedro, making big decisions isn’t your strong suit. That’s why you need someone like me calling the shots. With my keen eye for detail and total lack of patience for incompetence, I'll have this place gushing money in no time.”
I pull away, my head spinning as the brutal honesty I value in Deborah rears its ugly head at me. “I need time to consider everything.”
She nods, but there’s a glint in her eye that sends a chill down my spine. “Reminisce on all those hazy milestones and ‘made it’ moments before the hard, sobering realities of sustainable business inevitably set in. Just don’t dawdle too egregiously long, lest I grow impatient and rescind my extremely polite offer to adopt this little half-pint startup of yours as my own.”
As I stumble out of her office, my mind is reeling. The idea of handing my life’s work over to Deborah, with her boundless energy and ambition is both intriguing and, if I’m being honest, slightly demoralizing. to think that someone can do this better than I can with way less time invested.
It feels like four years ago, when Aria offered to fund Aira Labs, and I freaked out. Worried that the offer meant something about who I was instead of who she was.
I have an impossible choice to make. Whatever I decide, there will be no going back.
And deep down, I can’t shake the feeling that Deborah’s offer is better than any deal I could make at Venture Summit.
As I walk back to my office, my thoughts are a tangled web of doubts and possibilities. I sit down at my desk, my head in my hands. I know I need to make a decision, and soon. But the weight of the choice feels almost crushing.
I glance at the photo on my desk, a candid shot of the Aira Labs team at our last company retreat. We’re all smiles, our faces filled with excitement and hope for the future. And I know, deep down, that whatever I decide, I have to do right by them. They've trusted me to lead this company, to guide us towards success, and I can’t let them down.
With a soft exhalation, I turn back to my computer, pulling up the financial projections and the pitch deck I’ve been working on for the summit. I have a lot of work to do, a lot of information to sort through, a lot of calls to make. The future will be forever shaped by the choice I make in this moment. I can only hope that when the dust settles, I'll be able to look back and know I made the right call.