Okay, I don't normally respond this way.
I'm an ok, mostly happily married woman, but when the VC from Fenwick and West swanned into our conference room my eyes widened. I'd looked up her online of course before hand, but her profile pic didn't remotely prepare me. I mean, yes she was attractive there, but I hadn't expected the sheer hit of charisma when she swept into the room, and the sense of authority and power she projected.
I collected myself, and prepared to present. This was why I was here, after all. Our CEO introduced me as our CFO, and I fired up the laptop to show my slides on the screen. We'd spent weeks preparing this, a clear definition of our business model and why we could provide a superior way to updates games on a regular basis through a streaming model, with our current project providing proof of concept.
I gulped a bit, but they swallowed, and managed to recover my confidence, to work through the presentation in a professional, controlled manner.
But I was never ignorant of her eyes on me.
The presentation went well. In the after-analysis, my CEO was praiseful, and it did go well.
Never any assurance in an investor presentation, but we had good hopes.
---
Ironically, she went by the name of Hope. Hope Glaswell. She was 50-something, silver haired, but extremely trim. I assume VCs can pay for gyms, and keep themselves slender, but I'd never had that immediate sexual response to another woman, let alone an older one. Not that much older than I; I'm in my 40s, but oh my god. There was this immediate flush. I was lucky I could get through the presentation without embarrassing myself.
The CEO assured me that the presentation had gone well, and that negotiations for their contribution to our Series C round were under way. I was surprised when she contacted me at the company email, and invited me to meet other potential investors in her house in the Hamptons on the weekend. I talked to our CEO, and he encouraged me to go. If she was socializing the investment to other possible round participants, that was a good sign.
So I agreed, and told hubby I had to work that weekend to court a potential investor. He understood.
---
To my surprise, I was told to go to Teeterboro airport to meet a corporate jet, but hey, the rich live different lives from use, and and Uber got us there. I walked across the tarmac -- skirt suit and high heels, because as an executive, I had an image to present.
I've gone to the Hamptons before, but it's usually two and a half hours on the LIE. The jet got there in a half hour.
I guess there are benefits to being rich.
