Page 55 of The Hard Launch

She has a point. When you work at a startup, it’s easy to let it become your whole life. Your coworkers become your friends and family, the company successes become your own. But it isn’t real life. The fact of the matter is that companies that pop up out of nowhere can fall apart just as easily. This type of thing happens all the time; it’s happened to me before.

“I worked at this one startup,” I say, “where I was in product but the founder would make me sit at the reception area whenever he had people coming to the office so he could look important enough to have a secretary.”

“Ugh,” Kate says. “I was at one where the CFO is now literally in prison.”

“A guy at this one startup was secretly living in the office,” Trevor tells us. “He had a gym membership so he could shower.”

We trade horror stories for another hour, then I sneak out while Kate’s in the bathroom and Trevor’s talking to a girl at the table next to ours.

I had one drink because I didn’t want to cry or say anything I shouldn’t. And I need to get great sleep tonight and spend tomorrow prepping; I got an email this morning from one of the founders of the travel startup Edmund’s working with. I’m having coffee with both of them on Wednesday.

But before I go home, I text Ella. She meets me outside Jude’s building with my bag, which I’d optimistically packed with two days of clothes. We were supposed to be celebrating tonight.

“You haven’t heard from him?” she asks.

I shake my head and she gives me a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she tells me. “If it’s any excuse, he’s a total mess.”

“Should I try to talk to him?” I ask, looking up at his building.

“Lacey, he’s not here. He’s halfway to New York right now.”

My alarm goes off at 7:03 a.m. and I turn it off. I’ve decided I’m not working today. I’m sure when I log into Slack I’m going to see at least 10 other WFH messages, all of them meaning: fuck this place, I’m working on my LinkedIn.

At 7:04 a.m. my phone starts buzzing. It’s Jude, who after Santa Cruz knows what time my alarm is set for.

I answer the call but I don’t say anything.

“Lacey?” he says. He’s outside. I can hear Manhattan in the background.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“I know Ella told you I’m in New York. I just. I want to apologize for yesterday.”

I roll onto my back and blink at the ceiling. “Which part of yesterday?”

“Everything that happened after noon Pacific Daylight Time.”

I don’t say anything.

“You don’t have to forgive me, I’m not looking for that. And I can’t explain everything right now, but when I get back I will. I just—I don’t want you to write me off completely. I might be a shitty CEO, but I hope that the rest of me could be good enough for you.”

“Okay,” I tell him.

“Okay to what?”

“It’s just all I have right now. Okay.”

“That’s fair. Listen, I have to go. But I—”

He hesitates and I close my eyes. Please don’t, I think.

“I’ll see you soon,” he finishes.