Beta Testing
"She's building an app to connect Somali diaspora businesses worldwide. He's the investor who could fund her dream—if their pitch meetings would stop turning into something more personal."
"Your projections are optimistic."
The investor—Axmed, young for the money he controls—flips through my pitch deck.
"My projections are based on community research."
"Your community isn't a market."
"My community is the market." I lean forward. "That's the whole point."
He requests more meetings.
Due diligence, he says. I suspect something else.
"This is the fifth time we've discussed my revenue model," I point out.
"I want to understand it fully."
"You want to understand me."
He doesn't deny it.
"Your app is brilliant."
He says it after our tenth meeting. No pretense anymore.
"Then fund it."
"I will." He closes his laptop. "But first, I need to address something."
"What?"
"The fact that I think about you between meetings." He meets my eyes. "Constantly."
"This is a conflict of interest."
I say it even as I step closer.
"This is inevitable." He meets me halfway. "I've invested in a hundred startups. I've never felt this."
"Felt what?"
"Like my biggest risk isn't financial."
We kiss in his office.
Floor-to-ceiling windows, London below, everything we're building between us.
"Axmed—"
"I'll fund your app. This is separate."
"Nothing is separate anymore."
"Then let's build it all together." He lifts me onto his desk. "Business and everything else."
We make love above the city.
Power and passion and two people who know what they want.
"You're amazing—"
"We're amazing." He moves with me. "This is the real beta test."
The app launches.
His funding, my vision, our success. The diaspora connects like never before.
"We did it," I say at the launch party.
"We're just starting." He takes my hand. "I want to invest in something bigger."
"What's bigger than this?"
"Us. Forever." He kneels. "Marry me. Let's scale this relationship."
I say yes.
Best ROI of his life.