Then we watched a few of our start-ups not make it because they seemed to get bogged down in the operations side of the business and were no longer doing what they were supposed to be doing. It was then that I understood why a professional services company appeared to be a solution.
We’re regulars at the Venture Capital Silicon Valley Summit. It offers concepts and start-ups an opportunity to present their ideas and business plans to venture capital firms and individuals. Each is looking at various kinds of funding and are hoping some will invest in their ideas and help make them realities—and the owners very wealthy.
During the conference, we usually sat in private rooms and met with potential investments. I’d never paid attention to nor attended any of the breakout sessions. Randomly, Emerson’s talk on “How to Do What You Do Best Without Complications” caught my eye. It seemed to call to me, so I decided to hear what she had to say. I arrived a few minutes late and sat in the back with no expectations.
She was not only a knockout in her conservative black suit with a soft pink blouse and high-heeled black pumps, but she was smart. And not just smart—she was brilliant. Emerson gave an insightful presentation and answered question after question. She could speak to managing accounts receivable and multiple human resources issues, and her pet saying, “How to see the forest for the trees,” hit home for me. I knew she was someone I could work with, so I collected all the marketing materials she had and brought them back to the team. They could hear my enthusiasm for what she could bring to our investments to make them stronger and better.
We put our research team on her and her company, and it seemed to be a no-brainer. At least for us.
I reached out to her with a request for coffee, and she politely brushed me off. She ducked my calls and emails for two months. I felt like a dog in heat when she finally agreed to meet me. Apparently, she had four other VC firms looking at her. I knew it was going to be tricky, mostly because she had no interest in selling. It took constant calls before she finally agreed to talk over the phone. My team shared our feelings that we would all benefit by working together. Sure, we could create it, but she had already worked out the kinks, and she was magnetic and would be a great asset to our team.
We went into full buy-mode with her. We invited her to the offices, and again she put us off. We sent her flowers and still no response. Before we could give up, our marketing team suggested we send a crate of oranges to her office with a note written by Mason, as the managing partner, asking “Can you squeeze us in?” She sent back a photo of her and a few members of her team drinking orange juice with a time and their address. The meeting was finally going to happen.
She impressed us all with her negotiation skills. When we got a look at her profit and loss statements, we were pleasantly surprised. She was extremely profitable and would be bringing a significant amount of business as well as ten employees across the Bay Area, plus one in San Antonio. She wasn’t negotiating for herself, but we liked that she wanted to look out for her team. It took six months, but finally she and her team joined SHN.
Conversation during today’s lunch was fun. We all laughed as Cameron shared a story about his weekend, getting stranded in a biker bar in Sacramento and being hit on by one of the biker’s girlfriends. Apparently it was a mess, but he now has new fans in Sac.
We talked about a partner retreat, some business issues, and what we have pending. The two-and-a-half-hour lunch was an excellent start to our working relationship.
San Francisco is my favorite city. The City, as it’s referred to by the locals, is simply urban. Tall concrete buildings in an exact grid pattern, the grass saved for parks and the occasional backyard. Ever-present skyscrapers are smudged by the haze-filled sky, offering no direct sunlight and few birds. Cars race between red traffic lights, stubbornly flickering in their gray surroundings.
Sara decides she can’t walk the eight blocks again in her shoes and chooses to ride back with Cameron and Mason to the office, who extend the offer to Emerson. Peering between the buildings at the cloudless skies and taking a deep breath, she says, “It’s such a beautiful day. Dillon, we don’t meet for another half hour. I think I’d like to walk back. Do you mind if I meet you back at the office?”
Surprised at her passing up a ride, I tell her, “I would be happy to walk with you.”
Despite the three-inch heels, she’s confident in herself. I can tell by her powerful stride, the way she holds her head up and her shoulders back.
As we walk, we make idle chitchat. “Where are you from originally?” she asks.
With my hands in my pockets, I walk and turn to her at the same time. “Just outside Detroit. What about you?”
“Denver. It’s probably why I miss the sun so much. We tend to have more sunshine than San Diego.”
“Summers are brutal here. The hot desert valley brings fog, gray and cold to San Francisco. How long have you lived here?”
“I moved to Palo Alto for undergrad and then went east to law school. After graduating almost eight years ago, I came back. And you?”
“I moved here when I was eighteen—which was a long time ago—to attend Stanford and never left.”
There were people everywhere. Panhandlers, business suits, the workout-clad and tons of tourist with cameras. We dodged them all like salmon running upstream.
“Do you
