“Sure, sure,” Churchill said, waving a hand. “But it’s more than that for you, isn’t it?”
Beau set his coffee on the desk. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand the question.”
“You have an unorthodox way of dealing with the founders of the companies you invest in. Instead of sending your employees in your place or just gathering research online, you spend weeks courting them, getting to know them firsthand.”
“That’s all true.”
“You’re not investing in these companies. You’re investing in the people.”
“Well, businesses don’t run without people. I vet them thoroughly, which is why I’m so confident in my portfolio.” Beau slid the end of his tie through his hand. “As a result, the returns have been staggering.”
“Beau,” Glenn said, dropping his smile. “Be straight with me. I looked into your background. It took some digging, but I found that yearly conference thing you do. You never mentioned it before.”
“It’s no secret that Bolt Ventures sponsors Entrepreneurs in Tech.”
“Not just sponsors. You and your company put it on, every last detail.”
Beau nodded slightly. In fact, he’d even helped design the conference’s lunch menu, since he’d been the one paying for it. “It’s important. To us. And me.”
“What I don’t understand is why your name wasn’t front and center on the project. What do you get out of it if not publicity? What’s your concern with young, struggling entrepreneurs like the ones behind these companies you endow?”
Beau released his tie. He had answers prepared for everything. He liked having the right response, one he’d perfected over the years based on people’s reactions. He never lied, but how you said things was sometimes more important than what you said. People picked up on keywords, tone, delivery.
Churchill wasn’t responding to that. He valued truth and authenticity. Those were things Glenn’d seen in Lola, and they were the reasons she’d ‘stuck with him.’ Beau knew how that went. She’d stuck to Beau like glue, and he was beginning to think he wouldn’t get to just shrug her off like he’d hoped.
“I know what it’s like to struggle for something that might never happen.” Beau spoke carefully. Weakness wasn’t something he talked about if he could help it. “I also know what it’s like to have someone take a chance on me only to have them turn around and virtually incinerate all my work.”
“You’re talking about VenTech?”
“Yes. When they bought my website ten years ago, they assured me they’d take it to the next level. Since they offered me more than it was worth, and I was eager to start another venture, I was hasty to accept. They didn’t volunteer the fact that one of their private subsidiaries was an up-and-coming competitor of mine. They picked my work apart until it was a carcass.”
“You came out on top, though. I read all about it. You got more out of that deal than you should’ve.”
“If I hadn’t sold it, my website would’ve destroyed the competition. George Wright, the founder, looked me in the eye and told me I could trust him, though.” Beau paused. He couldn’t remember a time in the last ten years when he hadn’t been tracking VenTech’s stock, waiting for the company to stumble. “I guess back then, it wasn’t all about the money.” It felt more like an admission to himself than to the mayor. It’d been a while since his fortune hadn’t sat in the number one spot on his list of priorities.
“So that’s why you put on the conference?” Glenn asked. “To prevent others from making the same mistakes?”
Beau had his go-to response ready—he funded the convention because the young entrepreneurs of Los Angeles were America’s tomorrow. But instead, he gave Churchill the real reason. “I never forgot how it felt when those bastards trashed years of blood, sweat and tears. Yes, I do it to provide
entrepreneurs with the resources I didn’t have, either because they don’t know about them or can’t afford them. Even though I came out on top in my deal, perhaps with proper legal help, I could’ve put that company on a better course.”
Glenn nodded knowingly. “I understand. A man never gets the taste of his first real failure out of his mouth. Not with money, not with revenge.” He frowned. “I’ll be honest, I was reluctant to take this meeting. People are always coming to me with what I can do for them. Not what they can do for Los Angeles.”
“I’ve always been upfront with you about the fact that I’m a businessman first, but entrepreneurial growth in Los Angeles benefits us all in the long term. And that starts with a conversation about tax reform.”
“When you cut the bullshit, Olivier, you’re all right. People like me, we see a lot of crap. Men putting me on, getting me a drink here and there, trying to shake my hand, hungry smiles, wives slobbering on men who aren’t their husbands. It’s a breath of fresh air to see this side of you. And I know where it’s coming from.”
“I’m sorry?”
“We’ve talked here and there at events. Seen you in the tabloids with women too. You’re different with Lola.”
Was he different? Or was Churchill under Lola’s spell, the way Beau had been? Who was he kidding—Beau was still under her spell. He fought himself not to look at his watch. He hadn’t forgotten that Lola might still be walking home.
Beau opened his mouth to tell Churchill he was right—Beau was a changed man, and it was all because of the amazing woman at his side. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Beau had been different with her. “She’s…”
Glenn tilted his head. “Yes?”
Beau could easily ignore everything they’d just discussed and take the easy route. But Churchill was a good guy who deserved the truth. “She’s not too happy with me at the moment,” Beau admitted. “We had an argument, and it’s—well, things between us are—over.”
“I see.” Glenn took his mug by the handle but didn’t drink. He just squinted at Beau. “I’m not all that surprised, actually. I don’t mean this as an insult to you but a compliment to her—it would take a certain kind of man to hang on to a woman like that. Do you think you’re that man?”