The Next Big Thing Read online

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  Ron Conway, John Doerr, Heidi Roizen, Roger McNamee, Guy Kawasaki, Mary Meeker, Jack Dorsey, Tina Seelig, Tim Draper, Michael Dearing, Bill Gurley, and Brendan Fitzgerald Wallace.

  Thanks to all for being an inspiration. And thanks especially for having a combined four million Twitter followers. #SocialCode @DigitalSadie

  Acknowledgments

  As a writer, I feel infinitely privileged to have had a piece in the Social Code project, which was the culmination of so much vision and energy and work. Dan Kessler and Panio Gianopolous: there are no words to capture my respect and appreciation—your talent is so real and inspiring, and your trust in me has been nothing short of transformative. Thank you also to Carey Albertine, whose support and vision are a constant source of energy and wisdom. And of course, a special thanks to Jennifer Weis and the St. Martin’s Press team, and to our evangelist Susie Finesman for bringing it all together.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  I. Reverse Engineering

  1. All Hands on Pitch Deck

  2. My Milk Shake Brings All the Boys to the Yard

  3. 300 Words or Less

  4. Sharp as Nails

  5. Star Power

  6. Out of Focus

  7. Having a High Time

  8. Small Favors

  9. Dress for Success

  10. When Text Becomes Subtext

  11. Things That Go Beep in the Night

  12. Miss Taken Identities

  13. Detour

  14. The Waiting Game

  15. Duping Delight

  16. Smooth Boolean Operator

  17. Typecast

  18. Making the Grade

  19. Snapshots

  20. London Fog

  21. Alarms and False Alarms

  22. Syntax Error

  II. Parallel Circuits

  23. That Path Is for Your Steps Alone

  24. Bullish

  25. Who Can You Trust?

  26. Super Cheesy

  27. My Sister’s Keeper

  28. No Talking in the Library

  29. What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks Down

  30. Board of Detractors

  31. Newest Profession, Oldest Profession

  32. Cruise, Control

  33. Little Boy Blue

  34. Adam Dory: Drunk, Racist Asshole

  35. Paying for It

  36. Exit, Stage Left

  37. Mourning After

  38. Head in the Clouds

  39. Pretty Woman

  40. Shabby Chic

  41. Riding Shotgun

  42. The Donner Pass

  43. Under Par

  44. When Instinct Takes Over

  45. 99 Problems but a Glitch Ain’t One

  46. Run://Program

  III. Reboot

  47. Keg Stand for Principle

  48. The Best Laid Schemes of Mice and Men

  49. Not Just Ones and Zeroes

  50. What Are You Driving At?

  51. Scar Tissue

  52. Dealmakers

  53. Mind Over Body

  54. The World Wide Spider Web

  55. Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself

  56. Kryptonite Firewall

  57. Virtual Reality Bites

  58. Tangents

  59. The Lonely Hearts Club

  60. Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

  61. The Shell Game

  62. Caged Animal

  63. Trust Me

  64. Old Habits

  65. Full Circle

  66. Final Contract

  Also by Sadie Hayes

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Part I

  Reverse Engineering

  1

  All Hands on Pitch Deck

  Adam Dory felt the impending doom of his own suffocation as the walls closed in on each other and the air left the room. He could feel T.J. and Amelia on either side, oblivious to what was happening to them. The two just sat there, trapping him as if they enjoyed watching his potential slowly peter out.

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat this: I don’t believe in your team.”

  Adam concentrated his eyes on the venture capitalist, Ross Brown, who sat at the table before which the three Doreye cofounders stood, delivering this news.

  He wished T.J. and Amelia would go away. Especially Amelia. People didn’t treat her like a prima donna because she wasn’t girly, but she had lately become the worst kind of high maintenance. Worse than any of the sorority girls Adam knew. She took every opportunity to blabber on about Internet freedom, and insisted they not charge users for any of Doreye’s services. She acted like her programming was the only thing in this company that mattered, despite seeing how hard Adam—whose job it was to make money—worked.

  “Your product is one of the best I’ve ever seen. The design is flawless, the user experience unmatched. And your business model is really provocative,” Ross Brown went on, referring to the PowerPoint presentation Adam had just delivered, a fifty-page deck of slides articulating the business plan he’d slaved over for the past three weeks in preparation for this meeting. It was because of Adam’s hard work that they were now asking Pingree Kort Collins, one of the world’s most prestigious venture capital firms, for a ten-million-dollar investment. That they were sitting across from Ross Brown, the firm’s most prolific partner, was a testament to their success.

  “Unfortunately, plans and products aren’t the only pieces of a company: The team is critical, and I’m concerned about you three.”

  “Do you mind if I ask why?” T.J. piped up, his voice shaking in an effort to control his frustration. Adam clenched his jaw. He knew T.J. was going to try to blame this on him, and it made him furious. If the team wasn’t doing well, it was because T.J. was too busy working out and schmoozing with investors to do any actual work. What did he care? Unlike Adam, who had no money and two-and-a-half more years of college to get through, T.J. had graduated and was already rich. For him, Doreye was just another toy, like his BMW, to show off to girls.

  Ross Brown lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head, studying T.J. as if to discern whether he really wanted to know. The two junior partners at the table smiled surreptitiously at their boss, like hyenas eager to witness a mauling.

  He undid the buttons at his wrists and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, showing off his tanned and muscular forearms.

  “For starters, none of you has any experience.” T.J. started to protest, but Ross cut him off. “And no, T.J., watching your father invest in start-ups does not count. In addition, you’ve got competing male egos in T.J. and Adam and competing sibling egos in Adam and Amelia.” Ross paused. “Which might lead you to believe Adam is the problem, were it not for the fact that eliminating Adam would leave just T.J. and Amelia, who would never get any actual work done since T.J.’s too distracted by girls and Amelia would rather write code than make money.”

  The hyenas smiled, their eyes darting across the three victims before them.

  Adam looked at T.J., whose face was red, either from blushing or with rage. “So what do you suggest we do?” T.J. asked firmly.

  Ross Brown shrugged and sat back in his chair. “For starters, define your roles.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “None of you has a title. If you want to make this work, yo
u need to be very clear. Who is responsible for what? Amelia should obviously be chief technology officer, responsible purely for the product and its development. Take her out of the business side of things entirely. She gets no say in how you make money.”

  Adam watched his sister drop her head as she toyed with the zipper on her hoodie. Finally, Ross was saying something that made sense.

  “T.J. should be CEO, obviously, given his connections, his age and experience, and his ability to talk confidently when presenting.”

  Adam’s jaw fell open. T.J.? CEO? Adam should be CEO. He’d just delivered a twenty-minute speech about Doreye; was he not “talking confidently when presenting”?

  “What am I then?” he heard himself blurt.

  Ross smiled, pleased with himself for predicting exactly how Adam would react. “You’re chief operating officer, in charge of execution.”

  “Execution?”

  “Yes. You’re the only one hungry enough to make this thing work. Amelia builds the product and T.J. is out talking about it. You make sure the company functions and that the right people are in the right positions.”

  “I’m human resources? HR?” Adam choked. Was Ross Brown seriously suggesting that Adam’s value was hiring and firing people and making sure they remembered to submit their expenses on time?

  “COO may not be the most glamorous role, but it’s critical. And human resources is the most critical of all. If you’d been listening to me three minutes ago you might have noticed that the whole reason I’m passing on this investment is because I don’t believe in your team.” Ross’s voice was irritated. “That’s your human resources,” he said sardonically, glaring at Adam for a moment before standing up from the table, the hyenas following his lead. Adam felt his face flush.

  “On that note, I’ve got another meeting. Keep me informed of progress. If you’re able to address some of the issues we’ve talked about, I’d be happy to give Doreye another look. As I said, it’s one of the most promising products I’ve seen in quite some time, but you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  * * *

  Ross and the hyenas let the door of the conference room fall shut behind them. The tension in the room was thick, and Amelia could feel her heart pounding, afraid to look up at T.J. or her brother. Things hadn’t been very organized since they’d gotten back from Maui—Amelia would sometimes go days without seeing either of them—but she was embarrassed to know outsiders like Ross were talking about it.

  “I think he’s right,” T.J. said, finally breaking the silence.

  “Of course you do,” Adam jumped in angrily. “You want to be in charge.”

  “Someone needs to be,” T.J. snapped. “And clearly neither of you is capable of it.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Amelia doesn’t even want us to make money, and you’re too afraid of her to insist we do.” T.J. was talking only to Adam, as if she weren’t even there. She looked up defensively.

  “I—” she tried to interject softly.

  “What?” T.J. turned to her, irritated. “You don’t.”

  “I just think—” Amelia’s desire to keep Doreye free for users and open-source for developers had been a hot button, and she was struggling to articulate to T.J. and Adam why nothing on the Internet should be about making money.

  “I know what you think,” T.J. said, cutting her off, “and it doesn’t make any sense. At least not if you want an actual company—which I think you do, don’t you?”

  She nodded and looked at the floor. She missed the version of T.J. who used to defend her, like he did when that reporter in Maui cornered her about the juvenile detention center. What had happened to that T.J.?

  “Wouldn’t you rather be off the hook for any of these conversations? Haven’t you always been saying you just want to go back to coding?” T.J. pressed. It was true.

  “Yes.” Amelia didn’t look up. She thought, And I want the nice you back.

  “Good. Then you’re CTO. That’s all you do now: no more on the business side.”

  “I’m not being COO,” Adam said, bringing the attention back to him. “It’s demeaning.”

  “It’s your only choice.”

  “Since when do you get to decide?” Adam was fuming.

  “I don’t,” T.J. said. His whole body was taut, focused on what he wanted. “The three of us make decisions by majority vote. So it’s up to Amelia.”

  Her head jolted up at the sound of her name. T.J.’s blue eyes were piercing into her, as though he could see her whole heart exposed. He took a step forward and placed his hand on her shoulder, close to her neck, so that his hot fingers rested on the skin near her collar. “What do you think, Amelia?” he asked softly, kindly. That was it; that was the T.J. she missed.

  “I think you should be CEO,” she said softly, looking into his eyes.

  “Oh, this is such bullshit.” Adam threw up his arms.

  His voice made Amelia snap out of her T.J. trance. “What, Adam? T.J. makes more sense as CEO, you know that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “He’s older and more … polished,” Amelia tried.

  T.J. smiled at the support and let it make him generous. “And here’s the thing, Adam. If I don’t do a good job, you can fire me.”

  “What?”

  “As head of HR, you can fire me if I don’t do a good job.”

  “Why don’t I just fire you right now, then?” Adam said, and snarled.

  “Because you need me,” T.J. said with equal intensity. “And you know that.”

  Amelia’s eyes darted between the two men, their eyes locked on each other. Ross was right: They were competing, but Amelia wasn’t sure over what. She didn’t know a lot about these things, but felt like if they could just work together they’d actually get a lot done.

  “Fine,” Adam spat. “I don’t even care anymore.”

  “I hope that’s not true; we need you,” T.J. said in his newly adopted CEO tone.

  “Oh, screw you,” Adam said, rolling his eyes as he picked up his backpack and headed for the door. “I have to go to a meeting. I hope you’re happy,” he flung at Amelia before letting the door slam behind him.

  Amelia let her eyelids flutter up to look at T.J., but he was packing his presentation materials into his messenger bag and not looking at her.

  “I think that was the right thing to do,” she told him.

  “I know it was,” he answered without looking up.

  She let her incisor pinch the inside of her lip until it went numb.

  “You’ve got to let me handle the business side of things now, okay, Amelia?” He finally looked up.

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “This is really serious.” His face said as much. He lowered his voice and glanced around as if checking for hidden cameras in the conference room. “We have enough money to last us for six more weeks, then we’re done, okay? Like, done, done. We’ve got to raise money or all of this”—he gestured around the room—“all of this goes away.”

  “I understand,” she said softly.

  “Good.”

  2

  My Milk Shake Brings All the Boys to the Yard

  “Could I have some whipped cream, please?” Patty Hawkins asked the waitress at Peninsula Creamery as she reached for the syrup to smother her Belgian waffle. It was Saturday just before noon, she was ravenous from a late-night party at SAE, and her boyfriend (if she could really call him that; they hadn’t exactly DTR’ed yet) had left their booth to take a call just as they sat down fifteen minutes ago.

  The waitress returned with a dish of whipped cream, and Patty dolloped it generously onto the oversize waffle, sticking the covered spoon into her mouth as she glared at Alex through the window, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk while speaking excitedly into his phone and using lots of hand gestures as if to better get across his point to the person on the other end of the call.

  She was seated at a red vinyl booth in the corner, the one they always s
at in on Saturdays. Well, always meaning the previous five Saturdays, not counting the first Saturday, when they sat at the counter of the diner. Although Patty loved this Palo Alto institution, she hated sitting at the counter and only did it that one time because the hostess on duty was new and didn’t recognize Patty or realize who her family was. The hostess had since been corrected, and so, every Saturday, Patty and Alex sat in the corner booth and were provided a complimentary bag of homemade white chocolate macadamia-nut cookies with their check, which Patty always accepted graciously and with her best attempt at surprise.

  Patty put one piece of waffle in her mouth after the other, hardly swallowing in between, and studied the family at a table in the center of the restaurant. The mother—a blond woman with a Bar Method physique—leaned across the table to cut her eldest child’s pancakes while pulling a ketchup bottle out of reach of a toddler in a high chair while thanking the waitress for bringing a towel to clean up the milk shake that the latter had just knocked over. Her husband, a clean-cut blond man in khakis and a polo, was giving her a thumbs-up from the hostess stand, where he was apparently receiving good news through the cell phone pressed to his ear, but she failed to notice.

  Is this where I’m headed? she thought to herself as she chewed another gooey bite. Without looking down, she speared a strawberry from Alex’s plate and stuffed it between her lips to join the bread and syrup and cream already there. And would things have been different with Chad?

  She had to stop thinking about him. But she couldn’t. She kept thinking about the ice cream on her leg, about the car, about the waterfall and her heart beating with equal parts competition and sexual attraction.

  She hadn’t heard from him since Hawaii—none of them had. Or maybe Shandi had, but clearly she’d never know that. They’d all just pretended like none of it ever happened, and now Shandi was reengaged, to a guy named Sean, and Mr. Hawkins was happy because Sean was a great golfer. Mrs. Hawkins was happy, too, because Sean’s mother was not nearly as attractive as Chad’s mother had been, so she’d have the advantage in all the wedding photos and those that followed after.