Page 9 of Spark (Lust & Luster)

Aryanna

A fter returning from Atlanta, I’ve spent the last couple weeks going through all the things Dante had told me about his company, Luster.

I feel a little bad about this, but he volunteered it.

He could have been evasive, and he never asked me what I did in San Francisco.

So, I didn’t volunteer that I’m a certified supreme master gem cutter, or that all the big jewelry houses have offered me work.

Dante gave me information he probably would not have shared if he’d known that, but nothing so specific that he would be in trouble with his brothers and his funder.

Alicia told me she told him all about me.

If he wasn’t listening, that’s not my fault.

However, I now know enough that I can come out of the gate strong.

I’ve used some of his experience to improve my business plan.

For one, I contacted his tour guide for precious and semiprecious stones.

I was very impressed with the man, and if I get funding, I will plan a tour of Southeast Asia to visit with him.

Those bright, beautiful colors will look fantastic in some of my designs.

I may also swing down to Australia. A family friend owns several gemstone mines there, and I have my eye on a few possibilities.

Unless my funder says otherwise, my plan is not to buy diamonds at the beginning.

They’re really a bit boring. My initial designs have color.

I’ve also been thinking about Dante more often than I should, particularly as I fall asleep at night and when I wake up. He also makes an appearance in my dreams most nights. I hate that I’ve just cut him out of my life, but it’s better to do it now than later.

For a while, his texts increased in urgency.

I haven’t had the heart to block him, but I’ve not read any of them.

At last check, there were twenty-three messages sent over the last two weeks.

But once he finds out I’m a competitor, he’ll no longer be disappointed.

His feelings will quickly shift to anger, and I don’t want to deal with it.

Today I have my presentation to Benchmark Holdings. I met Suzanne Price, the CEO, at a Women in Business conference. She was taking elevator pitches from women looking for funding, and I was shocked and thrilled when I became one of the six she picked for an actual presentation to the company.

I’ve been waiting to do this since I moved to the United States. I know I can nail it.

It’s almost showtime. I smooth my skirt and take a deep breath.

I’m wearing a thin gold chain with small rubies placed each inch.

It’s wrapped three times around my neck and sits perfectly against my chest. I have a matching bracelet and earrings, and my ring is a gold band with the birthstones of my parents, my brother and sister, and my aunt and her husband who opened their home to me when I moved here.

This is my talisman. Their birthstones help me feel like they’re here with me in this room.

Taking a final breath to release the stress, I push open the door into the offices of Benchmark Holdings.

The office is a juxtaposition. The rough, exposed brick and duct work contrast with the large, smooth windows that offer a view of the San Francisco Bay.

I can see beyond Berkeley to the north and the San Mateo Bridge to the south.

The muted light comes mostly from Tiffany lamps, and the antique furniture is French revival in gem tones. We were made to work together.

With my computer bag on my shoulder, I speak to the receptionist, and she leads me to the conference room. She takes my order for coffee and disappears. I wait, admiring the view of the barges crossing beneath the Bay Bridge. I’m nervous, but I’m not.

I studied multiple venture capital firms to see how they run these things.

Benchmark’s requirements are very vague.

I don’t know how formal Suzanne will plan to be, but I’m flexible—ready to walk through my presentation word by word, or just answer their questions.

I’m hoping Benchmark will invest five-million dollars into my idea, in exchange for a thirty-percent stake in the company.

I believe I have something different, with enough appeal for commercial success.

After a moment, Suzanne arrives in a white Armani suit with a light green blouse. Her hair is wrapped in a tight chignon, her nails perfectly manicured in a subtle pink, and her high heels are perfect—they say sexy but not hooker.

I feel a little bit frumpy in the suit I bought at a high-end resale store. It’s one size too big, but I needed it to fit across my chest. Had I been smart, I would have had it tailored. But I didn’t want to spend the money.

Suzanne extends her hand. “Welcome to Benchmark Holdings.” She smiles, and suddenly I feel incredibly comfortable.

“Thank you so much for inviting me. I’m very excited about today,” I admit.

She sits across from me and they bring in a coffee tray and some snacks, which I won’t touch. I’d hate to get something in my teeth.

I place the presentation in front of her as Raymond James, Benchmark’s head of finance and one of her business partners, joins us.

He smiles and extends his hand. “Suzanne has told me so much about you. I’m very excited about this opportunity.”

Once we’re settled and the coffee poured, I look at them expectantly. “Would you like me to go through my presentation piece by piece and you can hear my vision for Amal, or do you want to go directly to finances, or to the designs?”

Suzanne smiles. “That’s a refreshing approach. How about I ask you a couple of questions, and we can walk through this more naturally.”

My pulse kicks up. This is it—the moment between pitching an idea and proving I deserve the investment. I feel the weight of every hour I’ve poured into my designs pressing against my ribs, urging me not to blow this.

I smile. “I’m an open book. I’m looking for money from you, so you have a right to ask whatever you’d like and find all the skeletons in my closet.”

“We’ve done a background check,” Ray teases. “We think we have your skeletons, but I suppose there could be others.”

I grin and shrug. “Let’s find out.”

“I could see your drive when we first met,” Suzanne says. “Your elevator pitch was quite intriguing. Why do you want to start this company?”

I lace my fingers in front of me and cross my feet at the ankle.

“I left Iran as a child because my brother and sister had been killed. My parents were worried I was next, because my father had been influential with a previous Shah, so they arranged for me to go. My mother converted most of their savings into gemstones and sewed them into the hems of my clothes. We wanted my leaving to look like a day of shopping at the bazaar. So, I said goodbye to my parents, and while we were shopping, I left with a man they’d hired to smuggle me over the border.

They made it look like a kidnapping. I walked out of Iran on foot into Turkey, and all I had was the stones and the clothes on my back.

Fortunately, gems hold their value quite well.

Good jewelry always does, and because of that, I have always cherished what gems did for me.

So, starting this company pays homage to my heritage and to my passion for beautiful design. ”

Suzanne and Ray are nodding.

“Will your story be part of your marketing?” Ray asks.

I bob my head. “If you think it has marketing value, it can be. But if you think an Iranian immigrant would be bad for business, I get that, too.”

“It’s a moving story,” Suzanne says. “I say it stays in.” She looks at Ray.

“Are you wearing any of your creations?” he asks.

“Always.” I unlatch my bracelet and hand it to him.

Then I unwrap the necklace from my neck and pass it to Suzanne.

“These are twenty-four-karat gold. The stones are shards from a ruby I cut. They have inclusions and imperfections, but you’d need a jeweler’s loop to see the stones, let alone detect the clarity.

This is a one-hundred-ten-inch chain, and depending on desired length, it can be wrapped two to three times.

I had additional shards, so I added the bracelet and earrings. ”

“This is stunning—it’s beautifully subtle and elegant.” She looks at my hand. “How did you create the design?”

I walk her through the chain design and the machinery I have access to. “We can produce between five hundred and a thousand necklaces a day at a cost of fifty dollars—depending on the price of gold—and they should retail at this length for two thousand dollars.”

Suzanne’s eyebrows shoot up. Ray seems equally surprised.

“In many cases, these shards of the gem are discarded, and we can buy less-than-perfect larger stones for almost nothing. I have a fifteen-carat-weight ruby that I paid less than five dollars for because of all the imperfections. That stone could make thousands of necklaces and bracelets.”

“Did you design your ring?” Suzanne asks

I nod. “It’s a half-inch wide and in fourteen-karat gold, since it needs to be harder. The stones are the birthstones of my parents, my brother and sister, and my aunt and uncle who took me in when I moved to Los Angeles.”

“It’s beautiful.”

I blush. “Thank you. It’s a ring that could be duplicated and the stones chosen by the buyer.

If you look at the fourth tab of your presentation—Ray, I’ll let you dive into the money shortly, but I don’t want you to think all of our designs use low-quality stones.

It depends on the piece. I have photos of the jewelry I’ve designed that can immediately be created on the machinery I have access to.

I’ve also designed a few other pieces toward the back that may be options in the future. ”

Suzanne and Ray skim through the pages.

“What is a good production schedule?” Suzanne asks.