Darien nodded. "Good. Then she knows who she's meeting."
But Victoria never read her meeting briefs. She had an assistant for that. She only glanced at "9:00 a.m. investor meeting" and assumed whoever arrived would be grateful for her time.
She definitely did not Google Darien Cole. If she had, she would have found dozens of articles, his Forbes 400 ranking, and interviews explaining his philosophy of casual dress.
One Fortune interview quoted him saying, "I dress down on purpose. I want to see if people respect me for my ideas or judge me by my clothes."
But Victoria did not Google. Victoria assumed.
And that assumption was about to cost her everything.
At 8:45, Darien left his apartment. The morning air was crisp, and his Uber was already waiting.
At 8:50, Victoria stood in the Four Seasons lobby charming two German investors who had already told her no the week before. She thought they might change their minds.
They would not. But she was about to meet someone who could actually save her company, if only she recognized him when he walked through the door.
Darien's Uber pulled up at 9:05. Traffic on Market Street had been worse than usual.
He texted Priya. "Running five minutes late. Let Victoria's office know."
She replied immediately. "Already did. You're good."
He stepped into the lobby. The air conditioning hit him first, that particular hotel cold that smelled like expensive flowers and furniture polish.
His polo shirt was navy blue and freshly pressed. His khakis had a sharp crease. His white sneakers were spotless.
He was dressed exactly the way he always dressed for first meetings. Comfortable, authentic, real.
Across the lobby, Victoria threw her head back, laughing at something one of the German investors said. She wore a cream Chanel suit that probably cost $6,000.
Her diamond earrings caught the light every time she moved. Her hair was pulled back so tightly it looked painful.
The two Germans were not laughing with her. They were checking their watches. They had a flight to catch.
Darien walked toward them, leather portfolio tucked under his arm. He had rehearsed the moment. Firm handshake. Warm smile. Thank you for taking the time to meet, Ms. Ashford.
She turned. Her eyes landed on him.
Her smile did not just fade. It transformed into something else entirely.
She looked at his polo shirt, then his khakis, then his sneakers. Her gaze traveled back up to his face, and her lip actually curled.
"Can I help you?"
It was not a friendly question. It was the tone someone might use on a stranger selling something they did not want.
"Darien Cole." He extended his hand, smiling. "We have a 9:00 meeting about the Series C investment for Ashford Technologies."
Victoria looked at his outstretched hand. She did not move. Her hands stayed clasped in front of her designer purse.
"Cole Ventures, right?" he said, trying to keep his voice warm. "My assistant Priya confirmed with your office three weeks ago."
"Cole Ventures." Victoria repeated the name like she was tasting something spoiled. "I've never heard of it."
One of the German investors, a man with silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses, cleared his throat. "Victoria, perhaps we should..."
She held up one manicured finger. "Wait."
Victoria stepped closer to Darien, close enough that he could smell her perfume, something floral and expensive.
"I don't know how you got the address for this meeting, but this is invitation only."
"I was invited." Darien kept his hand extended for one more second, then lowered it. "If there's confusion, you can call your assistant, Jenny, right? She confirmed last Tuesday."
"What I can see," Victoria said, her voice getting louder, "is that you showed up to a business meeting dressed like you're going to a barbecue."
The German investors exchanged glances. The silver-haired man whispered something to his colleague in German.
Darien took a breath. "Ms. Ashford, I understand this is unexpected, but..."