The Start-Up by Sadie Hayes Read Free Book Online

sweat. I try to keep a low profile.” Tom smiled casually and took a seat.
    T. J. grinned. His father had told him Tom was “chill” but he hadn’t expected someone quite so … casual.
    “So, T. J., what’s on your mind?” Tom said, leaning back in his chair and smiling to the waitress to let her know they’d order whenever she was ready. He glanced at the television hanging on the wall behind her: Animal Planet. Excellent. Last month, Tom had complained to the owner of University Café that the only thing they ever played on the television was CNBC , which, in his opinion, created a hostile atmosphere. There was nothing more depressing than the exaggerated reality of the twenty-four-hour news cycle, he’d explained, and cafés like this one ought to inspire the entrepreneurs of Silicon Valley to be more innovative, not more mired in the what-could-go-wrong ideas pitched by newscasters. The owner had laughed and promised to test other channels. Tom had suggested Cartoon Network, but Animal Planet wasn’t a bad compromise.
    “Well,” T. J. said, “I’ll get straight to the point. I heard you were setting up an incubator, and I’d like to get involved.” So, that’s what this was about. Tom chuckled and smiled. “I am starting an incubator! It’s going to be fantastic. I’m such a believer in positive energy, and I think there’s nothing better than getting a lot of really smart, ambitious, creative minds together in one space and seeing what happens.”
    “I agree. Completely. And I’d really like to be part of it.”
    “Awesome. What do you want to do?” Tom asked as he directed his attention to the waitress, who had approached the table. “I’ll take the turkey avocado Panini and a—what kind of beers do you have on draft?”
    “Fat Tire, Budweiser, Stella—”
    “Fat Tire. Perfect. T. J., what are you having?”
    “I’ll have the grilled chicken Caesar salad, dressing on the side. And sparkling water, please.”
    Tom nodded (what had become of college kids these days, ordering dressing on the side and sparkling water?) and smiled at the waitress.
    “Thank you, my dear,” he said, before turning back to T. J. “Where were we?”“You were asking what I’d like to do at your incubator,” T. J. said, “and I was going to say that I’m open to hear where you think my skills would be most useful.” T. J. hadn’t expected this to be so easy. It was like Tom was asking him to write his own job description.
    “Well, what are your skills?” Tom sat back in his chair and tried to stay focused on T. J., though he was secretly watching the television screen behind his head, where a lion was stalking a herd of elephants somewhere in Africa.
    “I’m very strong both quantitatively and qualitatively.” T. J. had rehearsed his answer in front of the mirror this morning. “I’ve done two investment banking internships, in New York and in Hong Kong, but I’ve supplemented that rigorous quantitative analysis with minors in economics and French, which have given me an opportunity to explore softer skills.” The camera panned in on a baby elephant. Uh-oh.
    “The economics degree gave you softer skills?” Tom lifted his eyebrows.
    “Well, compared to the rigor of hardcore investment models, economics is awfully theoretical and fuzzy.”
    Tom nodded; perhaps that was true. He’d never studied much of either.
    T. J. waited for him to say something, but Tom had turned to the waitress who was holding their lunch.
    “So,” T. J. said, trying to refocus his lunch partner. “I think I could fit in anywhere.”
    Tom took a bite of his sandwich, and chewed carefully. “Do you want to be an entrepreneur?”
    “More than anything,” T. J. said. “In the long term, I want to be a venture capitalist, but I think the best way to be a good investor in start-ups is to start something of your own, you know? Besides, after two summers working in huge companies with asshole bosses, I really think I’m