Chapter 3 - Dylan
I arrived in Harris Cove on a Saturday, and it was stunning. There had been a pull-off on the drive from the airport that overlooked the city and the ocean, and I couldn’t help but stop to admire the view. The water glittered while buildings nestled into the arc of land between mountains and sea.
The peaceful visage disappeared as soon as I entered the city. It was bustling in unexpected ways. Cookie-cutter apartment buildings and older, run-down houses were farthest from the beach, but the streets were filled with kids playing and adults walking through local shops.
Soon, the apartment buildings shifted to older styles with more character, and the nearby shops were larger. Kids rode newer bikes, and their helmets sported the most popular cartoon characters.
Where the lower and working-class line was blurred and more of a gradual shift, it was a stark change as I moved closer to the beach.
The older but well-maintained character buildings gave way to newer structures that looked fancy but probably had paper-thin walls.
Late-model cars vied for street parking, and the people strolling the sidewalks were dressed for jobs in luxury retail or white-collar positions.
Kids held their parents’ hands as they walked to classes or scheduled play activities.
I found my extended-stay hotel—that TechSpeed had paid for—in what was obviously the gentrified section of town.
Renovated historic buildings sported gleaming panes of glass and brick facades that were clearly pressure-washed on a regular basis.
Imported cars waited to get into private parking structures, and the people had adopted the sort of breezy elegance expected of a beachside city—where what looked like a twenty-dollar shirt was actually pure linen and several hundred dollars.
When I did see children, they were almost always accompanied by someone who was clearly either a nanny or au pair.
Sunday was spent half on the beach and half trying to get used to the city.
I did take a drive down what the locals called Billionaire Row, which was almost eerily quiet.
Most of the people I saw were clearly workers of some kind—landscapers, security, pool crews, and I spotted a dog walker down on the beach.
Monday afternoon consisted of a flurry of phone calls from my hotel room. Appointments with the broker were set up for later in the week, and my meeting with Alan Beischel was confirmed for the next morning.
I contacted the local permitting departments and set up a meeting to go over requirements for various work types so that I could get the ball rolling as soon as I signed a lease.
A strange sort of anticipation built under my skin as I laid in bed that night. It was like the universe itself was trying to tell me that I was where I was supposed to be.
∞∞∞
When I thought of a business incubator founded by a billionaire, I imagined an austere place where people wore serious expressions as they tried to prove that they were worthy of the support.
What I found… was exactly the opposite.
The atmosphere inside the renovated warehouse space was lively and fun.
Some people worked inside glass-walled offices, but almost every door was open, and people flitted from business to business.
Others congregated at tables in the open spaces, laptops and tablets ready as they discussed the topic of the day.
A couple of larger tables had signs reading ‘Mentor’ above them, and they were crammed with people asking questions.
My gaze drifted up. More offices ringed the second and third floors.
Light from a skylight filled the space and bounced off old wooden supports.
Sleek black tie-rods crisscrossed at key spots to provide extra support—but their secondary function as places to hang decorations was evident by the multicolored remains of ribbon tied to them.
I looked around for something resembling a reception desk and was distracted by a cheer coming from somewhere behind me.
“Hey,” asked a woman on my left. “Can I help you find a business?”
I turned and smiled. “Sorry, thanks. I actually have a meeting with Alan Beischel.”
“Oh!” she chirped. “Alan’s office is on the third floor. Follow me.”
I blinked and followed as she wound through the tables towards an elevator.
“Commercial kitchens are over there,” she said, pointing as we walked. “And the multi-use activity space is over there and has exterior doors.”
“Multi-use…?”
She paused and chuckled. “Dance, yoga, things like that.”
“Oh… ok…”
“So what kind of business are you starting?” she asked as we paused to wait for the elevator.
I chuckled. “Actually… I’m here for something else. I work for a company called TechSpeed, and my bosses have been talking to Mister Beischel about a collaborative effort.”
“Oh! Ok!”
“Do you work for the incubator?”
She laughed. “No. I’m co-owner of a small toiletries company. We started out with just soaps, but have been able to add more products since we got into a local grocery store chain.”
“Oh. Congrats?”
She chuckled. “Thanks. But I’ll admit it’s scary. We’re almost at the point where we’ll have to leave and get outside office space. It means we’re doing well, but we’ve grown so much with the support here, and I don’t want to stagnate.”
“I think that’s a good thing.”
The elevator doors opened and we stepped in. She pressed the button for the third floor. “It is good, and we’ll still have support for a bit longer, even when we have to move out. But we’re also at a spot where we don’t want to slow the momentum.”
“Ah. I think I get it.”
“This way,” she said as we stepped out.
The third floor was quieter only in the sense that it had less foot traffic. The din from below filtered up as we walked past darkened conference rooms.
The woman led me to the end of the building and to a large office.
“Hey, Alan,” she said, knocking on the doorframe. “This guy says he has a meeting with you.”
“Thanks,” the man inside called.
She moved aside, and I blinked at the scene before me.
“I’ve got to work now, yes I do,” he said to a little girl—only about two years old—who clung to him.
“Noooooooo!” she cried.
He managed to shift her so that he could look her in the eyes, then he booped her nose. “Now, now. I’ll be home before you know it. James and Papa are at home. Don’t you want Papa?”
She sniffled and wriggled until she could cling to his shirt again. “Noooo.”
He sighed and met my eye. “I’ll be right with you.”
“No problem.”
He rubbed the girl’s back. “I have to work now, sweetie. You knew I’d only be able to have you in the office for a little while.”
Footsteps behind me. I turned to see a middle-aged man who somehow managed to look immaculate, even though his short-sleeve shirt was open at the collar.
I decided it was the way he carried himself.
“See, Victor’s here to take you home,” he urged. Then his voice softened. “I promise we’ll play when I get home. Ok?”
She sniffled against his shirt and nodded. “Ooooook.”
He kissed her hair, then handed her over to whom I had to assume was Victor. She tucked herself against the other man, and the way she blinked made me think she was getting tired.
“Thanks, Victor,” he said. “I’ll call when I’m ready for lunch.”
“Understood, sir,” he said, then he started soothing the little girl as he walked away.
“Your granddaughter?” I asked as I walked in.
He chuckled. “My daughter.”
I froze, hoping I hadn’t insulted a billionaire in our first meeting.
He noticed and laughed. “I understand why you assumed granddaughter, though. Most men my age have grown children. I do have step-grandkids, and I love them like my own, but Jenny and her brother James are my first.”
“How old are they?” I asked as I dared to take a seat without being invited.
He smiled. “Jenny is just under two, and her brother is a few months over three.”
“And your… step-grandkids?”
His smile widened. “Our granddaughter is only a few months older than James. Our grandson is going to celebrate his first birthday next month.”
A smile spread across my face. “Lots of little feet.”
He nodded. “I love it. I thought I was going to be a bachelor forever, then I moved out here and met my David. Now I have everything I ever wanted: a loving mate and family.”
“Grats.”
Something inside hoped that I’d meet my mate soon—that I’d have my own kids to care for.
He grinned. “Thanks. And since we skipped the introductions, can I assume you’re Dylan?”
I laughed. “Your assumption is correct.”
He reached across his desk, and I accepted the handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Beischel.”
“Please, call me Alan. Mister Beischel carries a formality I’ve left behind.”
“Alan it is. And I’m fine with Dylan.”
“Great! Now, Linden and I have already settled the business details. But since you’ll be the man on the ground, I wanted to get to know you a bit, show you around, and let you get an idea of the chaos you’re walking into.”
I let out a nervous chuckle. “Chaos?”
He grinned. “Your interns are about to work with startups, so you’ll be tossing them into the deep end.
They’ll need to learn to identify scope creep and push back on it, cause startups shift goals all the time.
It’s good for everybody, honestly. Your kids will get experience handling changing needs, and the businesses here will have to learn how to define objectives when they’re bringing in outside parties. ”
I laughed. “That is the deep end. But you’re probably right that it’ll be good for them.”
“So, shifting gears, have you found a location yet?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I only arrived on Saturday, but I have time with the broker scheduled later this week. Do you have any preference about where we set up?”
He stroked his chin. “While I’d prefer you to be close, the real estate market can be tight.
Because of the geography, it’s not like you can just find an empty plot to build on.
Some spaces might not meet your needs. So…
as much as I hate to say it, you might just have to take what you can get, even if it means my startups are driving across town to you. ”
“It’s that bad?”
He nodded. “We tend to be more generous with time or income caps on businesses keeping their offices here because the market is brutal. We do tier up their rent to market rate as businesses approach the move-out cutoffs; that way, they don’t get sticker shock. But even finding a spot is difficult.”
“Apparently our broker has several options ready to walk through.”
“Sounds like you got lucky.”
“Hmm? How so?”
He laughed. “The real estate market here isn’t just tight.
Even describing it as brutal is honestly an understatement.
The woman who showed you up? I know for a fact she and her co-owner already have feelers out for a space, even though they would probably be ok to stay under the terms here for almost another year.
But it’s necessary. Even looking now, they could end up staying here several months over what the incubator allows because they haven’t found a spot that fits their needs.
Small retail and office spaces rarely make it to market.
Don’t get me wrong, businesses open and close like in any other city, but there are a lot of deals made behind the scenes.
Word gets around the business community that somebody is struggling and about to close, or maybe an owner is ready to retire, and those with any sort of connection flock like vultures in an attempt to snatch a prime location before it gets listed. ”
“Damn.”
He nodded. “You’re looking for a bigger space?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s probably why you have any options at all. But if you see something good, don’t wait. Even bigger spaces don’t last long unless they require a substantial amount of work.”
“Good to know.”
He stood. “Come on. I think the best way for you to prepare your new branch is for you to see what we do and how things work here.”
I stood and followed him out of his office, listening intently as he described the collaborative nature of the incubator.
My mind raced as we listened in at some of the discussion tables and mentor groups. It reminded me of the research floor at headquarters, where people discussed the pros and cons of various software and hardware options.
But businesses that had nothing to do with each other were brainstorming valid ideas.
Maybe a similar structure would help the interns. Dedicated time a couple times per week when they discussed problems among themselves, even if their specialities and projects were wildly different.
If working with startups was going to be chaos, then we needed to embrace it.