Page 36 of The Renter
“Excited?” Her bright smile is all the answer I need. I hand her my phone. “You’re in charge of music. The drive to my place in Lincoln Park will take about two hours.”
In the city, I hardly drive, and I’d forgotten how much I love this car. As I pick up speed on the highway, Dani seems unfazed.
“We’re going over one hundred,” I say, looking for a reaction.
“And?” she teases.
“I forgot. You’re an organ donor.” She playfully swats my arm. “When will I see you on that motorcycle?”
“I’ve been thinking of selling it.” She pauses. “The money would go a long way toward helping me get back to Chicago.”
Shaking my head, I don’t like that idea. “Don’t be rash. You’re going to be up to your ears in clients soon.”
She flashes me a smile before peeking at the speedometer. “Seems like this car could go faster.”
“I have precious cargo.”
“I’d tell you to slow down if I thought it was dangerous.”
I press the gas a little harder, glancing over at her. She smiles.I love that smile.Dani came into my life at the most unexpected time, but maybe it’s the right time?
“I want to know more about you,” I say as we cross into Illinois. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Running a successful communications agency, married,” she says, confident. “Maybe have a kid. What about you?”
Her aspirations to run a business and have a family resonate with me.We’re aligned.
“At twenty-five,” I chuckle, remembering, “I didn’t have such a clear plan.”
“What was twenty-five-year-old Adam Harris doing?”
“I was fresh out of Stanford with my MBA.”
She giggles.
“What?” I ask, raising my brow.
“Of course, you went to Stanford.”
I shrug, not quite sure what she means by that. “Back then, there was no time for a social life—I was grinding at McKinsey.”
“Casual,” she teases. “You have the most stereotypical finance-guy résumé.”
“Know a lot of finance guys?”
“Unfortunately, they’re everywhere in Chicago.” She laughs, and I smile, loving this time together. Really, loving all our time together.
“It gets worse.” I glance over at her. “After McKinsey, I went to Bain.”
“All work, no play,” she says with an exaggerated pout. I like how she gives me a hard time. She doesn’t care that I’mAdam Harris, and that’s refreshing.
“Exactly. It took a while before I realized that path wasn’t for me. By the time I was ready to launch my venture capital firm, a few things had lined up. At thirty-four …” I pause, feeling the age gap between us. Ten years ago, Dani was in high school. I shake the thought away. “Ten years ago, I started Harris Ventures. It’s been nonstop ever since. Greg, who you met. He’s been with me from the start.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Stanford. He’s my closest friend. When we went into business together, I had more money than him,” I explain, glancing at her. “Greg took corporate jobs and didn’t have the capital to be an equal partner. That’s why it’s Harris Ventures, not Harris-Wilson Ventures.” Taking a moment to reflect on that time, I add, “Plus, when my dad died, I inherited a few million, so that capital got the ball in motion.” She makes a little noise. “What?” I look over, curious about that response.
“You can say daddy’s money gave you a head start,” she sasses.
