Page 10 of The Hard Launch

“He thinks we should price it higher,” I finish for him.

“Do you think that?” Jude asks me.

Here it is, the trap.

“No. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should. We have loyal customers who love our service. They don’t just subscribe; they advocate. So sure, we can squeeze a few more dollars out of them each month, but we’re also changing how they feel about us in the process.”

I watch Jude consider this as Glenn pipes in.

“A reminder for Lacey that we are running a business here.”

I smile. Glenn’s always telling me he can’t wait to see what I can do once I lose my ideals and ethics. The thing is, he’s kidding when he says it.

But Jude looks at me through the screen.

“Our goal here is to make money, not to make people happy,” he tells me.

It surprises me how much it stings to hear him say those words. Despite the paycheck and the stock options that I happily accept, what he just said is so far from my perception of Lettercat and what it’s all about. I don’t like him personally, but I guess considered the company itself to be proof that he was different from the rest of the tech bros, that he cared about something more than valuations and IPOs. I guess I was wrong.

“What makes Lettercat special is that we do both,” I say indignantly, perhaps a little angrily. I regret it instantly. He’s the founder; it’s quite literally his company. I don’t get to tell him what it is or is not.

“Can you guys hang on a second?” Jude asks, and his screen goes black.

I wince into my camera. I can’t see him, but I know Glenn is shaking his head at me somewhere in a tunnel under San Francisco.

“Some coaching for you during this intermission,” he says. “Lacey, you’re great at listening to our customers. But when you’re in product, everyone is your customer, not just the ones who get billed. Jude is also your customer.”

During summers in college, I worked for my mom’s friend, a wedding planner. I’ve dealt with difficult customers, just not always well. I decide to channel Kate, who has vast reserves of patience when she’s on calls with impossible customers, honey-voiced and sweet until she’s confirmed the call has ended and adds, “you stupid, condescending motherfucker.”

“I’ll be more collaborative,” I promise.

“It’s called managing upward,” he tells me. “Book recommendation landing in your inbox shortly.”

Jude reappears after a couple of minutes. I guess when you’re in charge, you can just do things like this. To his credit, he’s a lot nicer when he comes back. But no one ever said the man is an idiot; of course he’s going to be kind to me when he wants something.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Let’s do your idea. But we need to go bigger than what you’ve laid out today.”

“Bigger how?”

“That’s what we’re going to spend the next three days figuring out,” he declares.

Glenn cuts in to say he can check in throughout the weekend, but he absolutely cannot be physically present.

“No, no,” Jude says. “I get it, your family comes first right now. I meant Lacey and me.”

He pauses and pushes back the swoop of hair that keeps settling on his forehead. He looks right into the camera at me.

“If you’re willing, I mean. I’d like to get started today.”

There’s something plaintive in his voice, something pleading in those soft brown eyes. He’s like a Labrador who wants my cheeseburger.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. And I’m expensing everything.”

“He’s waiting for you in Gutenberg,” Jonnie tells me when I arrive, referring to the large conference room. I’m relieved we’re not in his office, or in Stanhope. It’s going to be a lot of togetherness already; closer quarters are unnecessary. She takes my lunch order before letting me go any further.