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Let's Get to the Money . . .

The deal was closed, and they hadn’t even said the word yet. I knew, though, because the atmosphere shifted in the room. They went from asking me stupid, testing questions to see if I truly knew what I was talking about, to digesting my every word. The beginning battle in their mind was whether I had a team of minions prepare a presentation for me to remember or whether I understood the market I was advising them on. It was a shock to them that the Black, tatted man at the head of his own table knew exactly what the fuck came out of his mouth.

I was one of the top advisors in the blockchain industry. That wasn’t by mistake. Blockchain was a type of digital record-keeping system that stored information in groups called blocks. The chain part came in because those blocks were connected in chronological order by a chain. Boom! You have blockchain. I was considered a SME (subject matter expert) in this area.

As a principal digital asset strategist and the owner of Kryptonite Digital Advisory Firm, I advised companies of an array of things, such as digital assets and cryptocurrency, custody and security, regulatory risk, blockchain infrastructure, and a host of other things. It was my job to evaluate my client’s existing infrastructure and goals before I developed customized digital asset strategies. This was where I made my real money. I made great money with Kryptonite Reserve, but here was where I made my millions.

I got into crypto around the time I graduated from high school. I knew that college wasn’t for me, so I had to find a way to make a living for myself. I wasn’t interested in a long-term street life. I did my thing here and there, but I knew better than to think the streets loved a nigga. When I discovered Bitcoin, that was all it took. Between that time and the time that I was twenty, I learned everything I could about wallets, mining, cryptocurrency basics, digital transactions, cybersecurity, and a whole lot of other things that became beneficial to me. I used a portion of my paycheck from my plant job to buy small amounts of crypto so I could experiment with storing, sending, receiving, and securing digital assets.

I took a few classes online to enhance my skill set. College wasn’t for me when it came to pursuing a degree, but I damn sure went to get the certifications I needed to really get into the business. In this world, certifications meant respect. By the time I was twenty-four, I was your neighborhood wallet guy. I helped friends, family, and local business owners create wallets, secure their assets, understand transactions, and most importantly of all, avoid scammers. My mother’s church asked me to host classes, and I did.

From twenty-five to twenty-nine, I busted my ass to build a name in the industry. Before I knew it, I had referrals out the ass. My network expanded at a rapid pace, and I developed deep relationships with developers, lawyers, accountants, and other big names in my industry. Kryptonite was the moniker that I was given, and that stuck.

I had multiple job offers from different firms who practically begged me to become a part of their team. Yeah, I was good. Instead of making millions for other muthafuckas, I chose to make them for myself. From that mindset, Kryptonite Digital Advisory Firm was established. I was blessed to have clients from the first day that I started my business. Since then, it had been continuously growing with a few hiccups. Today, I owned one of the most successful firms in the industry with talented agents under me.

Mr. Dawson, the CEO’s lawyer, started to challenge some of my projections, but Mr. Dawson stopped him. Now it was all nods and smiles.

“Mr. Johnson, I think we’re prepared to move forward,” Mr. Dawson said after a quick glance at his lawyer.

I didn’t care for his lack of enthusiasm. I needed muthafuckas to be excited about working with a nigga’s firm. “You think you’re prepared?”

Mr. Dawson and I had a short stare down before he broke. I knew that he would. “We are prepared to move forward.”

I stood from my seat. “That sounds a lot better. Welcome to Kryptonite Digital Advisory Firm. Our lawyers will send over the finalized contract, then we can get the ball rolling.”

His team stood, and we did all the handshakes before they left. There were few feelings that were better than closing a seven-figure deal. Today, I closed a deal. Tomorrow, I hoped to close another and hopefully open a door to something new.

When I walked out of the conference room, I took in all my employees. They were all hard at work. My arms crossed over my chest as I observed the room with multiple cubicles. I sensed stress, and I didn’t like that shit. Amanda rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck side to side. Timothy had his overhead lights off in his cubicle. I wonder if the lighting is an issue.

Wait, what? I had never thought about lighting and its contribution to stress before I met her . . . Memoree Layne Smith. It was crazy, the impact a person could have on you after one interaction. Tomorrow, I’d have another proposal for her, depending on how the meeting went.

The Next Day

Light the Way . . .

I couldn’t remember the last time I closed my lounge in the middle of the day. We opened at 11 a.m. and closed at midnight on the weekdays and 2 a.m. on the weekends. It was 1 p.m., and we were closed for a special event. No one needed to know that the special event was a meeting with the one and only Memoree Layne Smith. With her fine ass.

Since it was in the middle of the day, I decided to dress comfortably. I kept it simple with a sweatsuit and sneakers to match. My haircut was fresh as of an hour ago.

I sat at the bar with a bottle of water as I waited for Memoree Layne. Kryptonite Reserve looked different during the day. Although we were open during the day, the hype happened after the sun fell. This was a place where business and pleasure met. No illegal pleasure, but pleasure, nonetheless.

My attention moved to the door that opened. There she was. Her spirit was bright, which I liked. There was a laptop bag on her shoulder and a portfolio stuck under her arm. Confidence walked in front of her.

She stopped in front of me. Her hair was up in a messy bun. She was dressed business casual in a pair of black slacks and a burgundy polo-style shirt. Burgundy complemented her skin tone extremely well. I’d remember that for later in our relationship.

“You’re staring,” she said blankly. Her smile was there, so I knew that she wasn’t saying it to be rude. That was a start.

I turned in my seat to fully face her. “I’m not staring; I’m looking. There’s a difference, love.”

She placed her laptop bag and portfolio on the bar then leaned on it. “What is the difference, sir?”

“I wouldn’t stare, because that’s rude. When I look, especially at you, I’m admiring. I love admiring beautiful people,” I told her.

I saw it, although she tried to hide it. She was smitten. I liked that shit.

“Mr. Johnson, I feel like we’re not going to get any work done if we continue to go down this road that we are. I’m not sure what road it is, but I think we should pull over for a moment to get some work done.”

Her words were interesting. She didn’t ask me to stop going down the road. She asked me to pull over for a moment. I smirked then responded. “I can pull over for a moment, but we will get back on this road, Memoree Layne.”