Page 102 of No Match Found
I spent the entire weekend at Matchify with Katie, Jackie, Nick, and Brooke, trying to create a backup plan in the event Vantive decided they didn’t want to pursue funding.
It was productive, at least. By the time Sunday night rolled around, the Jim & Pam room was littered with takeout boxes, and the glass walls covered with so much dry-erase marker they looked like murder boards.
It kept me busy enough to prevent my brain from exploring territory I really didn’t want it to venture into. It had been easier to feel confident about things when Grant had been here with me physically. With him away, I found myself wondering how persuasive Russ could be or whether the distance might shift his perspective. I clutched theLong night ahead—sleep tighttype of texts he sent me with a death grip.
Monday morning arrived with Grant’s empty chair and a heavy silence from the absent Truth Machine.
With sheer grit and power of will, I focused my brain on my task list for the day, which had grown immensely as a result of the murder board and group discussions. We had a board meeting coming up this week, which meant a metric ton of prep work.
I’d checked off more than three-quarters of the list and was feeling accomplished when three o’clock rolled around and Brooke knocked and opened my door.
I finished typing my sign-off on an email, then looked up.
My face fell. “What?”
She didn’t say anything. She just stood there, looking like a messenger preparing herself to be shot down.
I stood. “Just tell me. Whatever it is.”
“The Sentinel article is out.”
I stared at her, not breathing, not reacting. Not outwardly, at least.
The Sentinel article is out. I didn’t know what those words meant. I didn’t know there was going tobean article. Not without Grant.
Stay calm, Vivian.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll check it out.”
She hesitated. “Do you want me to stay while you read it?”
The idea that I might need someone by my side implied things I really didn’t want implied. “Thanks, but that’s okay.”
Looking doubtful, she nodded. “Also, I know you’re kind of in the thick of it, but that TechConnect Mixer that Lauren from Stratus Capital emailed you about is in two days.”
I shook my head. A business mixer was the last thing on my mind right now. And depending on what this article was like, it was very possible that Stratus Capital—or any other VC firm, for that matter—wouldn’t want to touch Matchify with a ten-foot pole.
“Got it,” Brooke said. “I’ll reach out and let them know we won’t be there.”
“Wait.”
Brooke stopped and looked a question at me.
I finally took a breath. I might not be able to do a social event like the mixer, but I needed to dosomething. My first priority had to be keeping Matchify’s options open.
“Maybe you can ask if Lauren would be open to a meeting to discuss funding?”
Brooke nodded. “Good idea. I’ll ask.”
Once she’d left, I took a few calming breaths before sittingdown again and Googling The Sentinel. I clicked on their website link.
The headline was right at the top of the page.
Matchify’s CEO Breaks Her Own Algorithm
Beneath it, the byline read,The Sentinel Editorial Team
Not Grant. Of course not. He wasn’t on their editorial team. But it was vague, and it felt intentionally so, like a grenade chucked my way from the shadows.
