Forbidden Love (Venture Capitalist Book 1) Read online

  Forbidden Love

  Venture Capitalist book 1

  By Ainsley St Claire

  Copyright 2018 Ainsley St Claire

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a production of the author’s imagination. Locations and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locations is completely coincidental.

  Venture Capitalist: Forbidden Love/Ainsley St Claire—3rd edition

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Promise

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thank you!

  Other Books by Ainsley St Claire

  About Ainsley

  CHAPTER ONE

  Emerson

  I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. I wasn’t supposed to need him. I wasn’t supposed to want him. But I did fall in love with him, I do need him, and I most certainly want him.

  In the beginning….

  I can’t believe that today of all days I’m running late. I’m usually never late. I live the mantra that late is if you aren’t at your destination fifteen minutes before scheduled time. Ugh!

  Running into the new office in downtown San Francisco, I am greeted by a well put-together receptionist at Sullivan Healy Newhouse, often referred to as SHN. We’re the preeminent venture capital firm in the Bay Area. As of last Friday afternoon, they purchased my company, Clear Professional Services, and I’m now joining the firm as a partner to manage the professional services of all their investment start-ups. It’s a way to have a steady paycheck and work with some of the brightest people in San Francisco and the Bay Area.

  The offices are bright and open with sparkling clear glass walls, leather office chairs in bright colors, white shellacked desks and tables, and bamboo wooden floors helping to give the space a clean and sharp look. Exiting the elevators, I introduce myself to the receptionist. “Hi. My name is Emerson Winthrop. I’m supposed to meet Sara White.”

  Smiling, she stands from behind her desk in a soft blue skirt suit that meets just above her knees, a black patterned silk blouse and a soft blue matching jacket. Her highlighted blonde hair is up in a tight chignon, and her jewelry is tasteful yet expensive. Reaching out, she shakes my hand and says, “Welcome, Emerson. I’m Annabel Ryan. We’re happy to have you here at SHN. I’ll let Sara know you’re here.” She makes the call and alerts Sara of my arrival, then tells her she’s going to bring me back to her office with a detour by the company break room. “Emerson, follow me. We’ll grab coffee and breakfast, and I’ll walk you back to Sara’s office.”

  I saw the break room during the process of SHN buying my company; it was impressive then and even more so now. Located in the center of the office, it hosts coffee machines that make coffees, teas, different cocoas, and ciders, an espresso machine where you can make your own, and also a Nespresso machine. Lined atop white Caesarstone counters, there doesn’t seem to be any escape from caffeine should anyone desire it. Next to the sink is a glass-fronted Sub-Zero refrigerator stuffed with sodas, juices, waters, fresh fruit and vegetables. Open shelving on the walls gives the kitchen a giant pantry feel with each floor-to-ceiling shelf containing unending rows of almost every snack you can imagine.

  In the center, an island which stores all the various plates, silverware, chopsticks, napkins and a food buffet. This morning’s breakfast food selection includes various fruit salad selections, bagels, pastries, a cheese plate and a warming plate with eggs and bacon. I’m awestruck. “Is this the spread every day?”

  “Unfortunately for my waistline, yes. The guys can eat like crazy, though most of us girls here don’t have the metabolism to eat like this. I usually bring in my own coffee so I’m not tempted. Lunch is catered every day and arrives about noon. There is a menu on the fridge so you’ll know if you want to bring something in from home. And for those working late, there’s a light dinner brought in most evenings.” She reminds me of Vanna White as she points out the various amenities. “In the fridge is an assortment of sodas and beers. If we don’t carry your favorite, let me know and we’ll stock it.”

  I fill my cup with pure black coffee and an artificial sweetener and follow Annabel to meet with Sara. She’s the corporate counsel and currently runs all the operations at SHN. I’ll be taking all the human resources and talent pieces off her plate. She’s my peer and the only other female partner. During the purchase, we bonded, part of the reason I chose to sell to SHN.

  Sara stands and approaches me with open arms. “Emerson! I’m so thrilled you’re here.” We make polite chitchat, and then she hands me a calendar for the day. It tells me I’ll spend the morning with her going through paperwork, have lunch with the partners, and then I’ll be with one of the partners in the afternoon—Dillon Healy.

  Before I know it, the morning is gone, even though the real part of my onboarding paperwork was taken care of last week in the lawyer's offices when I sold my company for three times its value. All ten of my employees are transitioning this morning, too, but they all work remotely. Honestly, my business was small potatoes compared to the deals SHN works, but it was a lot to me.

  Over the past five years, I grew Clear Professional Services into a dominating p
rovider of all the back-office things small- and mid-sized businesses need, but may not want to do here in Silicon Valley and beyond. We handle billing and accounts receivable, accounts payable, manage the HR function which includes recruitment, and our goal is to never say no when a client asks for something for their business.

  Sara and I walk over to lunch to stretch our legs and enjoy a bit of the rare sunshine. “I love this area, but I sure do miss the sunshine,” Sara admits.

  “It’s getting hot out in the desert. It’ll bring the fog in, and summer will be gone. Tell me how things are going with your new boyfriend… Henry, was it?”

  Blushing, she shares, “He’s great. It’s still new, but it was unprofessional of me to tell you about him. Please don’t let the guys know I said anything. They are very particular that our personal lives should remain personal.”

  “I understand. It will be our secret. But tell me about Henry. I have no social life, so I need to live vicariously through you.”

  “He’s positively wonderful. I’ve never been able to be so free and open with anyone like I am with him. He works for a start-up down in Palo Alto.”

  “Sara! I don’t want his stats, I want his stats! Is he a good kisser? Does he make you feel all gooey inside?”

  Sara blushes a deep shade of pink, which turns even her ears. “He does. He has this way of making me feel good about myself but also seems to want to hear my opinions and ideas. We’re moving fast, but we both agree this is pretty great.”

  I squeeze her arm. “That sounds amazing. I’ll admit, I am a bit jealous, but it gives me some hope that there are still some decent guys out there.”

  We arrive at the trendy waterfront restaurant and are shown to a private room, where the three other partners are waiting for us.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dillon

  Sara and Emerson walk into the meeting, the girls both look amazing. I played with Sara before she joined the firm, but she wanted more from me than that. It had been a mistake, and thankfully only Mason, one of the other partners, figured it out; however, we almost lost Sara and her partnership because of it, which would have been devastating. Though looking at the two women now, I can’t help but briefly fantasize about the three of us together.

  Emerson is beautiful. She’s tall and also wears a significant heel, which puts her over six feet. I love her blonde hair cascading down her back below her shoulder blades. The slit in her black pencil skirt is demure enough, work appropriate, but at the same time it makes me want to peek underneath to see what she’s wearing. Her silk cream blouse with a black velvet trim is sexy in a librarian way.

  “Ladies, welcome. Please have a seat.” We put Emerson at the head of the table and order a bottle of 1992 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s expensive, but we’re excited to have Emerson as part of our team. We toast to her joining us.

  It wasn’t an easy sell at the beginning. Emerson had put together an interesting concept, and she didn’t need us. Her company would do all the business management for various hot start-ups across the bay area and a few other tech hubs across the country—pay bills, recruit, stock option management, manage building issues and anything else that keeps the start-up from doing what they’re supposed to be doing.

  Before meeting Emerson, I remember someone talking at a party about the business management concept, and I didn’t understand the value. Now I know that all those things are part of running a business, and it’s certainly beneficial for someone else to deal with it.

  In the last three years, we became the most sought-after venture capital firm in the Bay Area. Mason has an MBA from Harvard with an uncanny ability to understand the business side and positioning for sale or going public, Cameron brings a strong technology background to the table, and I bring the knowledge of the numbers. All three of us met at Stanford as undergrads. We were recruited by various start-ups out of school, and we lucked out with all three going huge, making us extremely wealthy very young.

  We began our funding of start-ups together as a hobby and a way to share some of our luck, giving seed money to projects we liked as a side gig to our jobs. When four of our investments were bought for millions of dollars each, we were addicted to the gamble and the high of identifying a winner when investing in an exciting idea. Don’t get me wrong, not everything we invested in has been successful, but our hit rate has been pretty high, and we like to get in early.

  Sara was our company attorney at a law firm we used. We hung our shingle as Sullivan Healy Newhouse, or SHN, about three years ago and hired Sara out of the law firm, offering her partnership. Now we have close to fifty employees helping with the various start-ups and investigating up-and-coming trends. However, we knew something was missing, though we couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Then we watched a few of our start-ups not make it because they seemed to get bogged down in the operations side of the business and were no longer doing what they were supposed to be doing. It was then that I understood why a professional services company appeared to be a solution.

  We’re regulars at the Venture Capital Silicon Valley Summit. It offers concepts and start-ups an opportunity to present their ideas and business plans to venture capital firms and individuals. Each is looking at various kinds of funding and are hoping some will invest in their ideas and help make them realities—and the owners very wealthy.

  During the conference, we usually sat in private rooms and met with potential investments. I’d never paid attention to nor attended any of the breakout sessions. Randomly, Emerson’s talk on “How to Do What You Do Best Without Complications” caught my eye. It seemed to call to me, so I decided to hear what she had to say. I arrived a few minutes late and sat in the back with no expectations.

  She was not only a knockout in her conservative black suit with a soft pink blouse and high-heeled black pumps, but she was smart. And not just smart—she was brilliant. Emerson gave an insightful presentation and answered question after question. She could speak to managing accounts receivable and multiple human resources issues, and her pet saying, “How to see the forest for the trees,” hit home for me. I knew she was someone I could work with, so I collected all the marketing materials she had and brought them back to the team. They could hear my enthusiasm for what she could bring to our investments to make them stronger and better.

  We put our research team on her and her company, and it seemed to be a no-brainer. At least for us.

  I reached out to her with a request for coffee, and she politely brushed me off. She ducked my calls and emails for two months. I felt like a dog in heat when she finally agreed to meet me. Apparently, she had four other VC firms looking at her. I knew it was going to be tricky, mostly because she had no interest in selling. It took constant calls before she finally agreed to talk over the phone. My team shared our feelings that we would all benefit by working together. Sure, we could create it, but she had already worked out the kinks, and she was magnetic and would be a great asset to our team.

  We went into full buy-mode with her. We invited her to the offices, and again she put us off. We sent her flowers and still no response. Before we could give up, our marketing team suggested we send a crate of oranges to her office with a note written by Mason, as the managing partner, asking “Can you squeeze us in?” She sent back a photo of her and a few members of her team drinking orange juice with a time and their address. The meeting was finally going to happen.

  She impressed us all with her negotiation skills. When we got a look at her profit and loss statements, we were pleasantly surprised. She was extremely profitable and would be bringing a significant amount of business as well as ten employees across the Bay Area, plus one in San Antonio. She wasn’t negotiating for herself, but we liked that she wanted to look out for her team. It took six months, but finally she and her team joined SHN.

  Conversation during today’s lunch was fun. We all laughed as Cameron shared a story about his weekend, getting stranded in a biker bar in Sacram
ento and being hit on by one of the biker’s girlfriends. Apparently it was a mess, but he now has new fans in Sac.

  We talked about a partner retreat, some business issues, and what we have pending. The two-and-a-half-hour lunch was an excellent start to our working relationship.

  San Francisco is my favorite city. The City, as it’s referred to by the locals, is simply urban. Tall concrete buildings in an exact grid pattern, the grass saved for parks and the occasional backyard. Ever-present skyscrapers are smudged by the haze-filled sky, offering no direct sunlight and few birds. Cars race between red traffic lights, stubbornly flickering in their gray surroundings.

  Sara decides she can’t walk the eight blocks again in her shoes and chooses to ride back with Cameron and Mason to the office, who extend the offer to Emerson. Peering between the buildings at the cloudless skies and taking a deep breath, she says, “It’s such a beautiful day. Dillon, we don’t meet for another half hour. I think I’d like to walk back. Do you mind if I meet you back at the office?”

  Surprised at her passing up a ride, I tell her, “I would be happy to walk with you.”

  Despite the three-inch heels, she’s confident in herself. I can tell by her powerful stride, the way she holds her head up and her shoulders back.

  As we walk, we make idle chitchat. “Where are you from originally?” she asks.

  With my hands in my pockets, I walk and turn to her at the same time. “Just outside Detroit. What about you?”

  “Denver. It’s probably why I miss the sun so much. We tend to have more sunshine than San Diego.”

  “Summers are brutal here. The hot desert valley brings fog, gray and cold to San Francisco. How long have you lived here?”

  “I moved to Palo Alto for undergrad and then went east to law school. After graduating almost eight years ago, I came back. And you?”

  “I moved here when I was eighteen—which was a long time ago—to attend Stanford and never left.”

  There were people everywhere. Panhandlers, business suits, the workout-clad and tons of tourist with cameras. We dodged them all like salmon running upstream.