Page 63 of Stacked
Encouraged, I read Hudson’s email again. And a third time. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Hudson and I had been friends in college, both pledging Beta Sigma Chi during our freshman year, and some of our business classes overlapped. We went to more than one party together and I liked him, even though I wouldn’t have called him a close friend.
Still, venture capital was interesting. More than that, if I was being honest with myself.
During my New York City days, working in that sector had been attractive and always seemed much more fun than the toiling I did in the bullpen at the hedge fund. Working in venture capital meant taking risks. Being bold. And being willing to see things others would not or could not. A couple of key investments could change everything, could make someone millions practically overnight. Better still, the thrill was just as exciting as the money. If Hudson was anything like the guy I remembered, his firm had to be innovative and interesting.
But is finding that out an itch I want to scratch? And what would that mean about my new life in New Burlington?
“Robert?”
I started at the sound of Anya’s voice. “Sorry, what?”
“I just asked if you’re okay with doing this at The Green Frog tomorrow.” Anya held up her phone, which had the speaker muted. “They want us there at seven, and they’re sending a satellite truck and a crew.”
“They don’t want to do it by Zoom?”
“No, they want to make sure the lighting is good.”
“Wow, I’m surprised.”
“So, seven works?”
“I can be there.”
She unmuted the device and returned to the call. I took the opportunity to reread Hudson’s email, mulling over if I should send him a reply or not.
In the end, I simply closed my device. I didn’t have to reply just yet.I’ll let him know tomorrow after I’ve slept on it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ANYA
Talk about a crazy day.
I’d never given much thought to what it might be like to be famous—now many little pieces of administrivia came with having notoriety that extended far and wide. Delete this comment. Respond to that one. Check my email. Block this caller. Clear my voicemail. Being in the spotlight wasn’t something I’d ever pursued—it’s never been a goal in my life.Now that I was, things were weird. Exhausting.
