To my surprise, he nods. “Yeah, I could see that.” He rests a hand on his chin. “You did the assignment correctly. I said to build a product and pitch it to me like I was a VC. You built a product and pitched it to me, and I could see how it would make money. So I gave you an A-plus, because it’s the first product in the years I’ve been teaching the class that I could see one of my colleagues investing in. I could see how it would grow, how it would make money. You did it. You completed the challenge. You did not, however, build a company I would have invested in. Preying on human insecurity to make a buck is a viable strategy for a company, but not something I want in my portfolio.”

My heart sinks. Part of the reason I ran with the idea, pursued it beyond the class, was that I thought we had a stamp of approval from him.

“No shame in what you’re doing,” he says. “I’d just rather invest in something that appeals to our better natures.”

“Like what? A dating app that helps people find a real connection? Like, one that gives you points for hanging out together and having meaningful conversations?”

“Yes, maybe.”

“But that wouldn’t be profitable,” I say. “As soon as someone finds love, they leave the app and you lose a customer. Two customers! It’s basic math.”

“You’d be surprised, Miss Jones. People are willing to pay more for good things than to avoid bad things.”

What he’s saying completely contradicts our business model. But I smile and don’t say that, because he is, after all, a genius.

“Now, if you ever build something like that, you should give me a call.”

I thank him and stand up to leave.

“And one more thing, Miss Jones,” he says as I reach the door. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the state of love. Well, at least what your app can do to it. I don’t think it’ll be going anywhere, since Hart pissed off Mike Williams.”

“How do you know about that?” I blurt out without thinking.

“Hart called me before the meeting,” he says, as if I should know. “I told him not to go. But of course, just like his father, he’s hardheaded as the devil.”

What? I knew Braden was being led by his ego when he took that meeting, but I didn’t know his ego had led him straight past the advice of another VC.

“Um, right. Okay, thank you,” I turn to leave but stop myself. “We do have other interest. From Thatcher Bell.”

“Bell would want something like this.” A wry smile crosses his face. “Well, if he does offer, I just hope he doesn’t run into Williams at the Rosewood or golf club before you close.”