I mime zipping my lips.

“Also, we’re tight on time so there won’t be any Q and A,” she says, and I could kiss her. No Q and A means no one can ask me about ShopForAnything and how the great white shark appeared in my calm tropical business waters a few weeks ago, jaws wide open, determined to eat my company for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack. It’s the press’s question du jour, fascinating to every member of the business media.

“Too bad,” I say, like I’m bummed. Hey, maybe I can pass for an actor.

She raises her index finger and nods. “Now, your mic is hot,” she whispers.

And I don’t whisper back, So are you, even though she is, because, hello, that’s rude. Hitting on a cute chick at a conference is, one, uncool, two, douchey, and three, not my style. Besides, striking up conversations with women who know who I am is about as satisfying as watching a parade on a cold day.

Come to think of it, I don’t care for parades in warm weather either.

But the backstage woman is great, so I flash her a smile, and mouth thanks as the emcee introduces me.

“And now, it is with great pleasure and pride that I welcome Flynn Parker for our closing keynote address. His business reputation is unparalleled, having founded one of the most successful tech start-ups of all time and sold it for multimillions, earning him a reputation as a true internet superstar and visionary. He’s now become a key player in an exciting new technology sector. Please join me in welcoming him to the stage.”

Because I’ve given more keynotes than I can count, I stride onto the stage without breaking a sweat, and thirty minutes later, the audience claps and cheers.

“How’d I do?” I ask the girl with the sparrow tattoo once I’m offstage.

She shushes me and reaches for the mic. “You were still mic’d.”

I shrug. “Could have been worse. I could have said, ‘Free pizza tomorrow at the lobby of my office.’”

She wags a finger at me, whispering, “There’s no more appealing combination of words in the English language than ‘free’ and ‘pizza.’” She peers around the front of the stage. “Good luck making it through the crowd. Looks like they’re already lined up waiting for you to exit. Want an escort?”

I wave off the offer. “Nah, I’m good.”

If I stopped listening to ideas, I’d lose my edge. Edge is everything in business. It separates the visionaries from the has-beens. It’ll separate me from ShopForAnything if I play my cards right. That’s why I listen to every one of the pitches volleyed my way.

Once the crowd thins, I head out of the ballroom, making my way through the hotel’s lower floor.

“Hi, Flynn.” The bold, outgoing voice sounds like it belongs to a TV anchor, or maybe a politician.

I turn to see a brunette in a navy pantsuit walking by my side. Her dark hair is slicked back in a clip, and I’m going to bet my money on local TV reporter.