4. Nick
Nick
The restaurant is too loud.
I adjust my tie for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to ignore the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses around me.
The investor sitting across from me—a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a Rolex that probably costs more than my Porsche, is droning on about market trends and projections.
I nod along, pretending to care, but my mind is elsewhere.
People think my life is all footloose and fancy free. They think I spend my time on my yacht sailing around with a hundred hot women.
I mean, that one summer, but still.
This is what it takes to maintain my status. To keep my company constantly growing. To keep my employees paid well. I have to sit through these boring ass meetings. I have to entertain guys like this that are all bluster.
“So, you’re saying the market for this kind of tech is still untapped?” The investor leans forward, his fingers steepled as if he’s about to deliver some profound wisdom.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The demand is there, but no one’s cracked the code yet. Sullivan Tech can.”
He nods slowly, like he’s trying to absorb this groundbreaking revelation. He takes a sip of his scotch. “And you’re confident your team can deliver?”
“Absolutely.” I lean back in my chair, forcing a casualness I don’t feel. “We’ve got the best engineers in the industry. This isn’t just another project for us—it’s a game-changer. If we don’t do it, someone else will. You could be in at the beginning.”
He smiles, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.
He’s calculating the risk, the return on investment, and probably how much bragging rights he’ll have at his next golf outing when he tells his buddies he’s backing the next big thing.
I know this dance well. It’s all about stroking egos and making them feel like they’ve discovered the golden goose—even though we both know they’re just along for the ride.
“You make a compelling case,” he says finally, setting his glass down with a decisive thud. “I’ll need to review the numbers with my team, but I like what I’m hearing.”
I give him my most confident smile, the one that’s landed me deals in boardrooms and bedrooms alike. “Take your time. But don’t take too long—opportunities like this don’t wait around.”
My phone buzzes on the table, and I glance at the screen. It’s a text from my mom.
Call me when you have a moment.
I frown and quickly hit the button to darken my screen. I can’t exactly excuse myself from this dinner to call her.
The investor is on the hook. I need to keep him on the line. This is the tenuous dance before I’m given a fat check. I take another drink and force myself to focus.
“So, Nick, what’s your take on the current state of the tech industry? Is it going to bottom out? We’ve all been riding this wave for a while. It’s gotta come crashing down soon, right?”
I force a smile, launching into my usual spiel about innovation and disruption. It’s all bullshit, really. I’ve given this speech so many times I could do it in my sleep. But it’s what they want to hear, and it keeps them happy.
“But with all the competition out there—Google, Apple, the big players—how do you expect to stay ahead? How do you ensure Sullivan Tech isn’t just another flash in the pan?”
“It’s simple. We don’t just follow the trends—we set them.
Those companies are giants, sure, but they move slowly.
They’re bogged down by bureaucracy and red tape.
At Sullivan Tech, we’re agile. We see a problem, we solve it.
And we do it faster and better than anyone else.
I’ve made a fortune because I know what I’m doing. ”
“What about sustainability? Long-term growth? I’m not sure a man like you is committed to the business. This is all flash for you. Fast cars and faster women.”
I feel a flicker of irritation. These people always think they know me, that my personal life somehow defines my professional capabilities.
“You’re right,” I say. “I do enjoy the finer things in life. But let’s be clear—my lifestyle doesn’t affect how I run my company. Sullivan Tech isn’t flash. It’s results. My team delivers because I demand excellence, not because I’m out there chasing headlines.”
He raises an eyebrow, swirling the scotch in his glass. “And yet, the headlines do follow you, Nick. That kind of attention can be destabilizing for investors. How do you plan to reassure them that your personal choices won’t jeopardize their returns?”
I’m close to the end of my patience. “I’m giving you an opportunity,” I remind him. “I don’t technically need your investment. I can take it to the next guy. I make people rich. I’ve been making people rich for ten years. I play hard. I work harder.”
The investor leans back, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Fair enough, Nick. Fair enough. I’ll have my team reach out to yours by the end of the week. Let’s see if we can make this happen.”
Another deal teetering on the edge, another night of playing the game. “Looking forward to it.”
I signal for the check. He might want another drink, but I’m not interested in spending another minute at this table. I’m exhausted. I shake hands with him and promise to follow up with his team next week. Then I’m out the door, hailing a cab back to my hotel.
When I get back to my room, I toss my jacket on the bed and pull out my phone. If I don’t call my mom, she’s going to call and text me nonstop. Mom isn’t the type to be ignored or put off. She picks up on the second ring.
“Nick,” she says with a smile in her voice. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m good, Mom,” I say, sinking into the chair by the window. “Just finished up a dinner meeting. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much,” she says. “I just wanted to check in. How’s New York?”
“It’s New York,” I say with a shrug, even though she can’t see me. “Busy. Loud. You know how it is.”
She laughs, which makes me smile. I love my mother. I love her better from afar. She can be a little overbearing.
“Well, I won’t keep you long,” she says. “I just wanted to let you know that the Parkers are going to be in LA next week. You remember them, don’t you?”
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Mom, please tell me this isn’t another one of your setups.”
She laughs again, but there’s a hint of guilt in her voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Mom,” I say. I get up and walk to the minifridge. I can tell I’m going to need a drink. “What friends, and how old is the daughter?”
There’s a pause, and then she sighs. “Fine. Yes, they have a daughter. Mia. She’s a lovely girl, Nick. Beautiful, smart, and just your age.”
“Of course she is,” I mutter, shaking my head. My mom’s been trying to set me up for years, ever since I hit thirty and showed no signs of settling down. It’s like she thinks I’m incapable of finding a woman on my own.
“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill you to show her around while they’re in town. They’re family friends, Nick. It’s the polite thing to do.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, not even trying to hide my skepticism. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re hoping I’ll fall madly in love with Mia and give you grandkids?”
“Nick,” she chides. “I’m not asking you to marry the girl. Just show her around. Be polite. Is that so hard? You might discover you actually like her.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Fine. I’ll show her around. But no promises, Mom. I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I don’t want to date the daughter of your friends. Remember the last time I did that?”
She laughs. “Oh, Nick, that was years ago. And besides, Mia is nothing like Charlotte. She’s … grounded. She’s not going to try to sell your business secrets to a competitor.”
“Do you even talk to them anymore?”
“Not so much. I don’t appreciate them using me.”
“Me either. And this is why I’m not really interested in dating anyone, Mom. Everyone wants something.”
“I know, I know,” she says, her tone softening. “You’re too busy with work and your jet-setting lifestyle to find a good woman.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not looking for a woman.”
There’s a pause, and then she changes the subject. “So, how’s work going? Did you finally fire that witch?”
“Mom, we’ve been over this. I can’t just fire someone because you don’t like them.”
“She’s toxic, Nick,” my mom says. “She’s been causing problems for years, and you know it. It’s not normal to work with a woman that broke your heart.”
“She didn’t break my heart,” I argue.
“I hate that she’s there,” Mom says. “I wish you would just fire her ass.”
I smile because it’s pretty cool to have my mom in my corner.
“She’s good at her job,” I say, though even I’m not sure I believe it. “And it’s not that simple. There are protocols, HR policies?—”
“You’re the CEO,” she interrupts. “You make the rules.”
I sigh, rubbing my temples. “It’s not that easy, Mom. I can’t just go around firing people because we broke up. It sets a bad precedent.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I can tell she’s not happy with my answer. But she doesn’t push it. “Fine, I’ll drop it. Don’t forget about Mia.”
“Great,” I mutter, already dreading it.
“I love you, Nick,” she says.
“Love you too, Mom,” I say. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I hang up and open the bottle. My mom means well, but she doesn’t get it. I’m not interested in settling down, and I’m definitely not interested in being set up with some random woman just because she’s “beautiful and smart.”
But it’s not just that.
The truth is, I’ve been in a bad mood ever since Jessie’s wedding. Seeing him so happy, so in love, has left me feeling … empty. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never wanted what Jessie has—the white picket fence, the wife, the kids. I’ve always been fine on my own.
But lately, it feels like something’s missing.
I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. Jessie’s my best friend, and I’m happy for him. Really, I am. Lisa is awesome and way too good for him. But seeing them together, all lovey-dovey and glowing with newlywed bliss, has left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s the fact that Jessie’s moved on to this next chapter of his life, and I’m still stuck in the same old routine. Or maybe it’s the memory of Ava slipping out of my bed that morning, leaving me with nothing but a cold pillow and a vague sense of regret.
Whatever it is, it’s been eating at me all week.
I shake my head, pushing the thought away. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a company to run, investors to impress, and a never-ending list of problems to solve. I don’t have time to sit around feeling sorry for myself.