Ep. 6 Keep Your Enemies Closer
Sometimes what a rival needs most is a taste of their own medicine
Final day in Amsterdam for a while before I do my great American roadshow in New York. My files are ready, presentations printed, one suitcase is packed and I look around at the office to see if anything else needs to be sorted. Coast is clear.
The only thing left is one last memo and I can head out… if only I could stop throwing up.
Blowing Chunks
Using the computer is fine however for some reason looking at my cell phone is making me nauseous and for some reason the Derch keep pinging me on slack—I see hundreds of messages from analyst Filbert?
Taking deep breaths I ask my body if it needs to throw up now or later,
ideally before or after, or even before AND after
but not during this memo which is quite complicated.
Ooomph. Its now, throw up time is here.
I grab my cell phone and scurry down the hall passing the royal office to the unisex bathroom again. A big heave comes to me. Ooomph. I’m boiling hot, sweating through my shirt, learning over a toilet stall door open admiring the coolness from the tiles on the floor. I feel like death. Cell phone keeps vibrating on the ground with notifications before—to my embarrassment—the bathroom door pops open
Filbert: Ella…. Ella are you in here… we have um an emergency
Of course, Filbert would follow me into the bathroom, of course.
“Yes Filbert” I yell from the stall at this point too exhausted to care he can come to me. He follows the sound of my voice.
Filbert: Shit, wow Ella. You’re in bad shape are you okay?
Me: it’s fine. I have a doctor’s appointment in New York tomorrow what’s up
Filbert stares at me as if his emergency is more important he is not phased at all that I’m dripping in sweat hugging a toilet to stay cool, this man has no shame.
Filbert: convertible debt notes!!!!!!!
Me: and?
Filbert: Come on Ella don’t play games…
I vomit again, it’s just water at this point
Me: What about them?
Filbert: Ugh, I hate when you do this Ella! Just tell me. What is it, how do we find one, what do they look like is it also like a document or is it a bank certificate what is it?
As I take breaks from dry heaving I explain to him that convertible debt notes are a common thing in startups, many times they will “raise money” as debt. Its like a loan document with a higher upside from whoever is lending money aka financing the startup.
Filbert: great! Okay next question. Where are convertible debt notes?
Me: you know what Filbert I’m kinda busy right now if you couldn’t tell.
How about this, what if I give you my computer password and you can login and just find the document that you need and email it to yourself.
How about that? Would you leave me alone then?
Filbert’s face lights up like he’s about to win the lottery. His glee in the setting of a corporate bathroom reflect more on him than me, who has now become one with the cold bathroom tile floor who is my only comfort.
I show Filbert my login password from my iPhone notes and he takes a picture with his iPhone before running down the hall for my desk area (which is usually locked if I leave but was currently unlocked because I had to quickly run for the bathroom.)
As Filbert logs into my computer my iPhone lights up on the bathroom floor lights with a notification. He’s in. I get another notification from some spyware I installed a few days ago on my desktop computer, the Spyware notification says, “Now connected to Derch-govt-desktop.” Perfect. Filbert fell for it.
Letting one last vomit session out, I wipe my phone and wash my hands and face before heading back to my office.
As I step in Filbert is just finishing sending himself something and slides out from my keyboard “She’s all yours Ella. Thanks a ton!” Filbert walks slowly back to the royal office with total swagger, almost proud to have shaking a document out of me when I was in a low spot.
I login to my computer and go to the secret folder with the spyware logo in it. I click start and a different window pops up on my computer screen, its Filberts computer down the hall—I can now see in real time what’s he’s doing and what he’s working on. Trying to hide my joy, a little smirk peaks out from my face as my trick worked.
I’m now fully hacked into the royal system and can watch them while I’m on the road.
De duivel heeft vragen uit gevonden-
the devil invented questioning, indeed.
Fly Me to the Moon
Flying to New York pregnant is not for the faint of heart. Between the sounds and smells I actually got tired of getting up for the bathroom and just used containers or the baggie for my water upheavals. The flight attendants kept giving me eye contact like “we know girl, its okay.”
“Nevermind, Time Square is the worth smell while pregnant” I think to myself as I step out of the airport taxi to my cheap hotel for the week. The next morning was my doctor’s appointment to see what to do about ‘the thing,’ the Amsterdam mistake, the plus sign on a test you don’t want to pass.. the potential… baby? I unpacked my hotel bathroom kit and snuggled into bed early to be easy on my body., not to mention throwing up is exhausting and takes every muscle in your body.
In the morning, I take a shower only to see a good amount of blood at the bottom… in denial I check in with my body for messages yet I do not feel anything either way. Pierre says trust my gut yet my body is giving me radio silence. Unsure what to do I go to the doctors anyway.
Doctor: well, I'm sure you figured this out
Me: how to take a pregnancy test? Yes doctor. I figured that out.
Doctor: no. that you have had a miscarriage. Your HCG is still high and will slowly decrease each day. Judging by your lab results I would say you were around six weeks pregnant?
Me: six weeks that’s a lot!
Doctor: I know it can sound like a lot, but day 1 of pregnancy is technically two weeks. So, every week after that is considered additional.
Still absorbing what she’s telling me I realize I never had time to process the situation, there hadn’t been time to brainstorm or feel or think everything happened so fast, and now there was more pressure than ever to grieve?
It was a complex emotional situation foreign to me and my mind was still playing catch up.
Doctor: I’d recommend bed rest the next two weeks you need to let your body naturally process and get rid of, bleed, or heal the way it needs to. Women’s bodies are amazing though so if you drink lots of fluid and rest you should be fine.
Also, I recommend waiting a cycle for your body to flush out before trying again
My phone gives an alert showing me what the Derch are working on back in Amsterdam. Another investor texts about a pitch meeting in an hour, I’m looking down at my phone.
Me: Rest? That’s simple enough thanks doc
Doctor: No, really. REST. I know how you busy business-women are. This is a very crucial time to let your body heal and if you don’t you might need surgery or get sepsis or…
Me: yeah yeah, I got it doc. I will TOTALLY rest
My heart begins to bubble to my throat as so many emotions and hormones wave through my body—am I happy, sad, relieved, distraught, should I cry, am I tired, do I need water?
The answer seemed impossible: I was all of those things at the same exact time.
I thanked the Manhattan doctor after ignoring them and and walking outside to Park Ave for my next meeting.
The street smell magnified and smelled like spoiled food as my body was still confused.
I wiped one tear from my makeup before catching a cab to 40th street.
When the Going Gets Tough, GTFO
Perfecting my makeup in the taxi as I tried to mentally block out what just happened at the doctor’s office, I met a New York coworker in the lobby of a major New York bank.
The presentation itself a blur though I recall the room smiling and my partner able to handle most of it. The bank said they would think about it and send us some follow up questions, fair enough. As Tom and I walk out of the building he splits from me to meet some other friends for a late financial district lunch.
Feeling sad over my recent loss and homesick for Europe I check my phone: 47 missed calls in one hour. 100 text messages from dozens of people. Without any time to read them all I call Pierre, it should be before his bedtime.
Me: Pierre, what the F is going on? I’ve only been gone two days and after my first New York meeting the world is melting? Can’t be. What’s going on.
Pierre: They’re locking the borders Ella. Both ways. I guess there is a global pandemic of sorts and well, in Switzerland they are going to shut shut shut down. Borders will close both ways and they are not going to let anyone in regardless of passport or status.
Me: But, but… I’m in New York I just got here! I need to finish my…
Pierre: get it together Ella. Where is home? With this scoundrels in Amsterdam mooching off your work, or in New York where you are playing clean up?
You know, this is the exact reason why we can’t be together. You call me in duress then pretend like you don’t know where home is or how to get here. I’m done with you Ella. Get your shit together.
Pierre hangs up and before I can speak someone Facetimes my phone, it’s the New York coworker who just did the pitch meeting with me.
“Ella. I don’t know how to say this but, over half our American roadshow meetings have been cancelled.
I guess there’s a virus and things are shutting down and well, everyone just wants to be careful I guess. No one is rescheduling though because it’s unclear what’s going on. I don’t know much but my wife and I are going to go upstate for a couple weeks. You should figure out where to hunker down.”
The doctor telling me to rest. My coworker telling me to cancel work a few weeks. Pierre telling me to come home to Switzerland. As much as nothing was going to plan this was starting to feel like someone else in a higher being was in charge. My throwing up sessions started speeding up as the clock was ticking.
If Pierre was right then I needed to be on the next flight to Europe within twelve hours to make it in time. I go back to my New York hotel room, pack faster than any other time in my life and head directly to the nearest international airport.
Still in the taxi, using my cell phone I book tickets for a flight a few hours in advance. Check in online and download a boarding pass, I speed fill out all surveys as to have no delays boarding. With the boarding pass still up I get another alert—from my Spyware—it shows Filbert leaking my files to a media outlet in New York thinking I was still going to be there. He’s trying to sabotage the meetings that are no longer going to happen, oblivious to the fact a global pandemic is circling the world like a cloud.
Leave it to the Derch to somehow always be evil yet clueless.
Watching the messages go back and forth from my phone, Filbert and the Prince debate on what to do with me. Filbert calls me a “dirty dirty American who can’t be trusted.” in Derch, the Prince switches to English, pushing back on Filbert “Are you sure we should do this?” Filbert responds back, “we have no choice, otherwise she will take us down.”
Pierre’s words ring in my ears. He was right. None of this matters in the bigger scale of life. What am I even doing playing with all these various clowns?
I delete the spyware icon from my iPhone, reopen my boarding pass, then closing my eyes a say a little travel prayer. I am going home and it’s not Amsterdam.