Lex adjusted the collar of his blazer as he followed Natalie Zhang into the sleek, glass-walled conference room. The office buzzed with quiet energy—a polished, modern space tucked inside her father's venture capital firm.
Natalie walked with the ease of someone who'd spent her life in places like this. Lex didn't. But he knew how to fake it.
Inside, three men in their late thirties sat at the far end of the table, papers spread in front of them. One of them, Tom Drexel, glanced up as they entered, barely masking his surprise at seeing Lex.
"Didn't know we were bringing guests today," Tom said, eyeing Lex with faint curiosity.
Natalie offered a smooth, practiced smile. "Lex is just sitting in. He's interested in emerging tech, so I figured he'd learn more here than at a classroom desk."
Tom chuckled under his breath but didn't argue. "Well, I hope you like hearing about burn rates and unproven business models," he said, flipping the next page in his binder.
Lex smiled faintly. "Sounds like fun."
Natalie gestured for Lex to sit beside her, closer to the middle of the table. As he settled in, she leaned over just slightly.
"This is a pitch from a health tech startup." Her voice was soft but clear. "They're working on AI-driven diagnostics for early disease detection. My dad passed on it last year."
Lex's brow lifted slightly. "Why'd he pass?"
Natalie smirked. "Because it wasn't making money fast enough. But they've pivoted since then—expanded their platform to partner with hospitals."
Before Lex could reply, the door opened and the pitch began.
A nervous but eager-looking man in his early 30s, wearing a too-tight suit, stepped forward. His name, Elliot Marrs, appeared on the screen behind him as he launched into a presentation full of slides, charts, and hopeful projections.
Lex didn't pay attention to the numbers.
Instead, he watched Elliot. The way his voice tightened slightly when he hit the financials—that hesitation. Lex recognized it. Elliot believed in the product, but the profitability was still a gamble.
When the presentation ended, Tom leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his notepad.
"It's a nice concept," Tom said with the thin smile of someone already preparing to say no. "But you're still bleeding cash on the hospital end. Even with the updated partnerships, it looks like you're two years out from being sustainable."
Elliot shifted slightly, adjusting his tie. "We're confident the second round of funding will close the gap," he said, though Lex could hear the doubt tucked behind the confidence.
Natalie sat quietly, arms crossed, letting Tom do the talking.
Lex didn't.
"If that second round doesn't happen," Lex interjected smoothly, "what's your next move?"
Elliot's eyes flicked toward Lex, clearly thrown off by the new voice at the table.
"We're…we're working on a lower-cost version of the platform for smaller practices," Elliot said hesitantly. "A licensing model that allows doctors to use it independently."
Tom arched a brow. "And why isn't that the main model?"
Elliot hesitated. "Because scaling with hospitals offers larger contracts. Long-term stability."
Lex leaned forward slightly, tapping the table.
"You're thinking too big," Lex said calmly. "The smaller model is your real play. Your tech's good, but the hospitals aren't. Their red tape kills growth. Private practices are hungrier, faster, and more likely to pay for what you're selling."
Elliot blinked, clearly weighing the words. Tom watched Lex carefully but said nothing.
Natalie smirked beside him.
"I like him," Elliot said after a moment, glancing at Tom. "Who is he?"
Natalie chuckled softly. "He's not important. Yet."
Tom exhaled, clearly unimpressed. "It's a risky pivot," Tom said. "We'll review it, but I wouldn't hold your breath."
The meeting wrapped a few minutes later, and as the room cleared, Natalie and Lex lingered by the window. Ready to repeat the process again all day.
Nine hours later the last of the chairs scraped against the floor as the meeting wound down.
"You really couldn't help yourself, huh?" Natalie finally said, casting him a sidelong glance.
Lex smirked, leaning back in his chair. "I wasn't going to sit there and let him embarrass himself. most of them were in over their head."
Natalie let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "And you think scaling down will magically fix business?"
Lex set his pen down, tapping his fingers lightly against the table.
"No," Lex replied. "But it'll buy enough time to pivot. And in the meantime, it buys me a seat."
Natalie arched a brow, tilting her head slightly. "You've got an angle for everything, don't you?"
Lex met her gaze with a faint smirk. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
She studied him for a long moment, the faintest flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Alright, Latham," Natalie said, pushing off the window and walking toward her seat. "You want a seat at the table? I'll throw you something special."
Lex raised an eyebrow as she pulled her phone out, scrolling for a moment before sliding it across the table toward him.
Lex glanced down at the screen. Two startup profiles hovered in front of him.
One was a dating app called "Rizz"—slick branding, minimal downloads, but decent engagement in niche markets. The other was a mobile game company, "Red Lantern Games," with one title in beta and barely enough funding to survive another quarter.
Lex picked up the phone, scanning the brief descriptions. "You've been sitting on these?"
Natalie shrugged, taking her seat across from him. "They're too small for my dad's fund. Rizz pitched six months ago—good tech almost great, but no buzz. As for Red Lantern? They've got a decent concept, but no cash to scale."
Lex's eyes lingered on Flare's profile. The dating app market was flooded, but timing was everything. Social media was on the cusp of evolving—people just didn't know it yet.
"These are exactly what I'm looking for," Lex said, handing the phone back.
Natalie smirked, tucking her phone into her blazer pocket. "I thought you'd like them. I'll send you the founders' emails. If you can get in, good for you."
Lex's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why pass them off to me?"
Natalie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
"Because if they crash, I don't want it tied to my dad. But if they hit?" Her smirk widened. "I'll take credit for putting you in the room."
Lex laughed under his breath. "Fair enough."
She stood, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. As they walked toward the elevator, Natalie glanced at him casually.
"Still thinking about that movie role?" she asked.
Lex chuckled softly. "Consider it yours. You just bought yourself more than one favor."
The elevator doors slid open, and as they stepped inside, Lex could already feel the pieces starting to shift.
Rizz and Red Lantern weren't gold mines—not yet. But they were the kind of long shots that could turn into something bigger, much bigger in the right hands.
Barnie wouldn't see them coming.
By the time he did, Lex planned to own every piece worth having and a full board.