Page 41 of A Fae in Finance
Bloods and Bruises—EV 400m, EBITDA 22E 508m, multiple range 7-9x
Bitter Bites—EV 580m, EBITDA 22E 50m, multiple range 11-13x
Visshhush—EV 200m, EBITDA 22E 20m, multiple range 9-11x
I hit send and threw my head back into the toilet with such force that I banged my forehead against the rim.
My computer dinged. I looked up.
Miri, let’s circle back in the morning to review priorities. Visshush is too small for us.
I felt rage and misery swirling in my chest and burst into impotent sobs.
The part of me that was still a child thought someone might come for me. But I cried and cried, neck bowed, arm flung along the toilet seat, and nobody came.
So, sick and sobbing, I went back to the computer and tried again.
Jeff, sorry about that. Visshush is removed.
Again the immediate reply, like he was sitting with his phone refreshing his email.
Miri, why didn’t you add any new companies? I can think of at least three I would like to see.
I stared at the screen, incredulous.
Jeff, please let me know what companies you have in mind. Happy to add them!I typed, wet snot mixing with vomit stains on my upper lip as my chest heaved.
This time the response wasn’t immediate. I hefted myself upright, using the toilet bowl for support. I felt a rush of affection for the toilet, worthy of a refrigerator magnet poem (ah, my intimate acquaintance, your tender caress; ah, my companion in misery). But I needed to clean up quickly, before Jeff replied. I put the toilet lid down.
Doctor Kitten, who had watched this entire thing, scrunched his nose at me and started toward the bed.
I went to the running shower and stood before it, staring. There was a low rim around the outside of the stall, but no walls on the sides to prevent water from ricocheting off my body. There were also no dials to adjust the temperature, as far as I could see. The water fell from a lip that jutted out of the rock wall above my head in a melodic stream. I put my hand into the stream. A bit cool, but nothing unmanageable. I shucked off my clothes—had I been wearing my work pants for thirty-six hours?
As soon as I put my face under the running water I felt better. I pushed my hands through my hair, letting the water soak my scalp. I reached for the bar of soap on the low ledge and scrubbed my arms with it.
The computer dinged. I rinsed off and stepped out, realizing only then that I hadn’t seen a towel. I frowned, stepping out to see if there was one in a closet somewhere—or even a closet somewhere—when I was hit with a concentrated stream of warm air. I jerked to a surprised halt. Within seconds I had been thoroughly dried.
Well then.
I went back to my computer, picked it up, and took it to the bed. My suitcase still lay there. I pulled on clean underwear and a giant sleeping dress, breathing in the familiar scent of my own detergent.
How much longer would it be familiar?
I unlocked the computer and looked at Jeff’s email.
Bloodburger, Vamp-moose, and Red Rims.
Scrunching my eyes, I opened a new browser window and started to type.
Chapter 7
In Which New Friends Renovate My Room
A woman in a golden diadem sat before a blazing fire. The rising smoke shifted into rotating planets around a flickering sun.
She looked up and met my gaze. Before I could speak, she’d moved—uncanny, graceful—and stood before me. I felt her gaze on me. Weighed and divided. Found wanting.
Her right arm came up, the rotation of her wrist sketching the curve of a ship’s bow. She extended her hand, palm down, and pressed a single finger to my forehead. I felt my skin start to burn, radiating outward from where she touched me—
