Free PLAY by Piper Lawson Page A

knew.
    How the fuck are you going to help these guys?
    I swallowed, the enormity of my task washing over me. If this didn’t work, I—and they—would be totally screwed. “Um. Do we have any leads on funders?”
    Riley handed me a thick file from his desk. “Don’t get too excited. A lot of these are cold calls. Most of Oasis was built and financed out of Max’s pocket. Probably why it took him four years and why doesn’t want to do it again.”
    “Thanks. I’d better get reading. Can I borrow some of these?” I pointed to a jar of highlighters and a stack of Post-its on Riley’s desk.
    “Knock yourself out.”
    I found an extra desk in the Pit, next to the now-silent pinball machine, and settled myself there.
    I wasn’t sure where to start. I’d never been dropped in the middle of a place without knowing my bearings. Without any kind of training or support, or without other colleagues who did what I did.
    Still, I wasn’t ready to give in.
    The files didn’t tell me much about Titan, but they told me lots about potential funders. When it was nearly midnight I stood and stretched. The papers in front of me were marked up with an assortment of highlighters and Post-its.
    Prospects were an important piece of the puzzle. But trying to connect the dots to understand where to go next was impossible until I learned more about Titan and Phoenix. But, that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
    By the time I poked my head back into Riley’s office, my brain had already ground to a near standstill. “I think I’m going to have to take this home and start fresh in the morning. Where’s Max?”
    “Probably in his office upstairs. I’ll show you a shortcut.” He walked me to the door and pointed to the private stairwell.
    The first thing I noticed when I got upstairs was the music. Low, folksy indie wafted through the apartment from some hidden speakers in the living room. The dull ambience of the tenth floor—computers, the occasional chatter—was gone. Along with the dim lighting, it was almost peaceful.
    I crossed to the open door of Max’s office, feeling more like an intruder than I had the first day here.
    Today his desk looked like it’d been raised up, and I realized it was one of those electric ones that could be adjusted so you could work in different positions. Max stood in front of it, facing the same black screen that seemed to monopolize the coders downstairs. Beyond him, the city beckoned, its lights glinting softly through the darkness outside the wall of windows.
    In his t-shirt and jeans, he looked more like a comp sci student absorbed in a school assignment than the leader of a company.
    “I can see your reflection in the window,” he murmured. “Are you coming in or just hovering?”
    “Do you have a few minutes?”
    I half expected Max to say no, but instead he said, “I have as long as you need.”
    I crossed to him, setting my papers on the waist-high desk. “Here’s what I’m thinking based on the little I know so far. I’ll dig deeper on these three leads. Learn more about their past investments. How deep their pockets are.” I indicated the papers Riley had printed for me from his office. “The budget says you need an extra ten million, but that’s a lot to go straight debt. You should look at equity financing.”
    Max had been listening quietly—right up until the last part. “No equity. I’m not giving up a dime of my company.”
    I was used to knee-jerk reactions. They almost never meant “no,” but “not right now” or “not like that.” I switched to my most comforting voice. “We’ll look at options. Equity doesn’t have to mean giving up your right to make decisions. And, we don’t need to look at it right now.”
    “Payton?” Max rubbed his lip, hauling my attention to the curve of his mouth.
    Could you please stop doing that?
    “Yeah?”
    “No fucking equity.” The edge in his voice cut through the soft music just audible from the other room.