Bit Flip by Mike Trigg

Author:Mike Trigg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SparkPress

CHAPTER 16:

WHISTLE BLOW

PASSING ROLLING HILLS dotted with oak trees, Sam came upon the Old West–style facade of the Pioneer Inn, welcoming him to the upscale rural community of Woodside. The two-block stretch of historic buildings and wooden sidewalks culminated in the one-stoplight intersection between Woodside Road and Cañada Road—the heart of the modest downtown for one of the wealthiest suburbs in the country. Sam had arranged to have coffee with one of the Ainetu board members, Preston Lawrence from Ellipsis Ventures. They were meeting at Buck’s, a kitschy restaurant that was a favorite of both fleece-clad VCs and aged horse-ranch owners.

As the first investor in Ainetu, Preston was a critical board member. Sam had always found him to be an entitled prick, exploiting his father’s massive media conglomerate, Paragon Enterprises, to create his own fortune. His new-media offshoot, BroFest, was notorious for its misogynistic exploits and editorial content. The sale of the company to one of his father’s friends was as much a bailout as a strategic acquisition, but it earned Preston a small fortune. After cofounding Ellipsis Ventures, Preston and his partners became somewhat notorious for running their venture firm as he had run BroFest. Their only female employees were young assistants who clicked around the office in stiletto heels and size-zero miniskirts, looking more like runway models than business professionals. Regardless, if Sam was going to oust Rohan, he needed to persuade Preston.

Almost every time Sam had been to Buck’s, he’d bumped into an executive or investor he knew, compelling what could, at times, be an awkward conversation. He had suggested more discreet locations for their meeting, but Preston had insisted on Buck’s since it was on his bicycle training route, and they were meeting after his morning ride. Inside, Sam looked around for Preston, who had not yet arrived. He observed the various Silicon Valley bric-a-brac that adorned every square inch of the interior—some of it legitimately museum-worthy, such as original silicon fabs from Fairchild Semiconductor, but much of it emblematic of Silicon Valley’s more pretentious hobbies, such as an aerodynamic toboggan sponsored by a VC firm that hung from the ceiling. Sam stepped back outside to wait for Preston and filled a thick white mug with black coffee from a communal coffee station outside for waiting customers.

Almost twenty minutes after their appointed time, Sam saw a flock of cyclists, all in matching Lycra jerseys emblazoned with the Ellipsis Ventures logo, descending the hill toward the restaurant, as if it were the final stage of the Tour de France. Sam picked out Preston in full regalia in the middle of the pack. Jesus Christ, he thinks he’s Lance Fucking Armstrong. Sam stepped into the parking lot toward the group, raising his arm to get Preston’s attention, but the riders glided past him as if he were a pothole to be avoided. A few of them effortlessly turned in graceful circles like birds of prey to slow their momentum as others came to rest and squirted water bottles into their mouths, slapping each other on the back.

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