No more time to get ready. Fuck. He opened his collar button. It made no difference, he still felt choked. He pulled at the tie and undid it, whipped it off his neck, undid another button for good measure. Dillon’s mouth dropped open. He knew they were in trouble. Mace could see him frantically thinking of a way to jump in and save things.
“I’m getting comfortable, because what Ipseity is about is disruption.” He took off his suit coat and flung in on the back of an empty chair. He glanced at Dillon who was holding his breath, his fingers to his lips. He undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.
“That’s better. I’m an engineer, a programmer, a designer. I’m not like you guys, I don’t wear a suit comfortably, but that’s okay, you guys need guys like me because while you might be able to see the future, I can built it.”
Dillon’s out breath was so loud, there was soft laughter. Mace said, “Yeah, that wasn’t a line we rehearsed. In fact I can’t remember anything we rehearsed and Dillon knows it. But what I know is what I’ve designed and how it can change the world and I don’t need a prepared presentation to tell you about it.”
He saw Jay smile. He tapped the laptop and the screen behind him changed, he tapped it again till he got to the slide he wanted. He explained Ipseity to the eleven members of the Summers-Denby investment committee in the same way he might explain it to Buster, as though it was a novel with a setting, characters, a timeline, some tricky moments and a happy ending.
He got enthusiastic and spoke too fast. At times he forgot not to get too technical and had to backtrack when he clocked blank expressions from his audience. He moved around the area at the top of the table, unable to stand still. He was probably making them seasick. But he kept talking. He answered probing technical questions and shot down stupid ones—stupid to him anyway. That caused a rumble of disquiet—nothing he could do about it. He was arrogant about Ipseity. It was his life’s work and if he failed today at least he’d only have himself to blame.
When he’d said all he could think to say, he picked up that glass of water and eyed it. He’d done everything he could do not to drown and drag Dillon down with him. The water was cool in his mouth; he had to hope the reception wasn’t. When he lowered the glass he realised he still had everyone’s attention and didn’t know what to do with it.
“Ah, that’s it. That’s all I have to say.” He glanced at Dillon who at some stage had ditched his tie as well. He looked like he’d swallowed his tongue.
“Mace.” Benedict Chong, the committee chairman addressed him. “If we should choose to fund you, what role would you play in the company?”
He looked at Dillon again. They’d had this dream from the time they were fifteen. They were going to be joint CEOs, but Mace knew he was no leader, and Dillon would do a better job of it. He also knew saying they’d share the title had lost them points in at least one pitch. He could be happy as chief engineer, he’d be a founder and that’d be enough. They’d argued this out, but not agreed on it.
“Ah, I could be ha—”
“Joint CEOs,” said Dillon. He stood and joined Mace at the head of the table. “I’ll focus on sales and marketing and Mace will drive te
chnology and innovation. We work together as equals or it doesn’t happen.”
He gave Dillon a disgruntled look that got laughs.
Dillon clapped him on the shoulder. “Dude.” He looked down the length of the table to Chong. “You know my credentials. You know Mace’s. We have complementary skills and we’ve been working together for,” he laughed, “since before either of us got kissed.” That got a bigger laugh.
Mace said, “Really,” and meant, you really said that, but it came across as if he was querying Dillon hadn’t had any action before then. That got another laugh, slow to build but sustained, and he recognised what he felt was warmth, not the hot and sweaty kind, but the kind associated with acceptance. They’d done all right. Now it was up to Benedict Chong and the rest of the board to make a recommendation to Jay.
Chong thanked them for presenting at short notice and dismissed them quickly after that. The committee would make its decision in a week. They passed another group, in the anteroom, and Dillon stopped to wish them luck. Mace stepped into the hallway, the adrenaline he’d needed still fizzing inside him. He needed to run it off or hit the bag. He needed Cinta, but he heard his name called.
“You did well,” Jay stepped into the hall. “I feel like I should apologise to you and Dillon.” Jay worked his tie out from his collar and Dillon joined them. “I was impressed with what you had when I first heard you talk about it. But you didn’t meet our investment risk profile: you still don’t. You’ve done good work since then.” Jay undid his top two buttons. “I like what you’ve got even better now.”
“What does that mean?” said Dillon. They both knew having Jay come to them like this meant something. He owned the company. The committee worked for him.
“Means I will think carefully about what the committee recommends.”
Mace frowned. That was such a non-answer it made no sense for Jay to come after them to give it. Dillon opened his mouth but closed it again.
Jay stepped past them to go back into the boardroom. He opened the door. “Means you guys will need to give notice at your day jobs,” and closed it behind him.
They stood in the empty corridor with their laptop bags and stared at each other.
“Holy fuck,” said Dillon. “Was he joking? Dude, you’ve seen him in action more times than me, was he having us on?”
Mace shook his head. He no longer thought of Jay as the baker. “I’ve got no idea, but that sounded like a yes to me.”
“Fucking sounded like a yes to me too. Holy. Freaking. Fuck.”
Mace laughed. What else was there to do? If it was a joke it was cosmic. If it really was a yes...? He grabbed Dillon and kissed him on the forehead, both of them laughing, holding on to each other. “We need to know for sure.”
He needed Cinta. He needed her take on what Jay meant and to lay waste to himself in her arms. Jacked up like this he might be able to forget to be so self-conscious with her, and love her like he had before she’d bent something in him out of shape by cowering at his feet.
“We need to get drunk,” said Dillon.
He’d rather go home. She was waiting. This was a win for both of them.