San Francisco, IndieVibe Technologies.
At the front desk, Sarah Jones coached the new receptionist, Lily. "The other day, Victor Lang was practically bowing before that girl even reached us—smiling like a kid at Christmas!"
Sarah adjusted Lily's scarf. "Treat every visitor like royalty, no matter how young. You never know who's got clout. I got promoted to lead for nailing that visit."
The elevator dinged. A girl with twin buns, lollipop in mouth, stepped out, trailed by a sharp-suited secretary. Sarah shot up. Speak of the devil. She nudged Lily. "Stand up!"
Lily scrambled, whispering, "Who's that?"
Sarah smirked. "The one who makes Victor act like her errand boy."
She greeted them warmly. "Ms. Parker! Sorry for the casual welcome. Here for Victor? I'll buzz him—two minutes."
It was Zoey Parker and Chloe Quinn. Sarah sat them in the lounge, called the secretariat, and hissed at Lily, "That's the WindyPeak CEO. Don't mess this up."
In Victor's office, he grabbed his jacket, startled. "Zoey again?! What's with her dropping in unannounced? This feels like a rerun."
His secretary, Emma, stifled a laugh. Victor was a titan—ruthless when purging old-guard execs, commanding fear company-wide. Yet Zoey, a twenty-something, had him rattled. Adorable.
"She's in a good mood, not here to fight," Emma said.
Victor exhaled. "Good, good."
He welcomed Zoey and Chloe, handing Zoey a coffee. "No heads-up, Ms. Parker? I'd have sent a car."
"Seattle's easy to navigate," Zoey said, sipping. "No big deal."
Victor nodded, probing. "So, what's up?"
Zoey cut to it. "WindyPeak's eyeing the VR pod market. Thoughts?"
Victor frowned. At $400,000 revenue (per Chapter 46), WindyPeak had maybe $250,000 liquid after expenses. A VR project needed millions—suicide for a small studio. "It's risky," he said, blunt.
Zoey nodded internally. Victor's a real one. Most execs would cheer a competitor's bad bet, but he was warning her. Sorry, pal. I need to lose big to win bigger. Her rebate dream—financial freedom, world travel—demanded a flop.
"Risky?" she said, feigning offense. "You think we can't afford it?"
Victor blinked. Oh, right. Zoey's dad, Victor Parker, ran Parker Capital. Money wasn't an issue. "Fair point," he conceded. "With your backing and Gus Harper's talent, you've got a shot."
Zoey grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Now, about VibeX1's device fees…"
Victor waved a hand. "VibeX1's landing fee is competitive—$10,000 per game, one-time. Our 20% commission matches the platform's rate. For you, I'll slash the fee to $8,500 and push for a 1–2% commission cut. Deal?"
Zoey's jaw tightened. That's it? Cheap fees ruined her loss plan.