Page 5 of The Parent Trap

“Right, and that’s great, but how are you going to make money? And by you, I mean me.”

He frowns. “We’re a small start-up right now, Mr. Bristow. Can I guarantee you a return like, in the next six months? No. But we have people lined up to try our products. We’re starting small, like I said before. 3D printed nails and screws, brackets, switch plates, things like that. All of it renewable, all of it recyclable, all of it engineered to withstand greater forces than traditional products. So whenever the house our product is in gets taken down, that plastic will be recycled rather than just tossed into a landfill where it would otherwise sit unchanging for the next thousand years. You know ninety percent of all plastic ever produced—”

“Still exists,” I finish for him. “Yeah, you mentioned that statistic already.” I adjust my tie—I hate ties, but I want to look the part. “So, if I invest, you can expand your vision, so to speak.”

“We have the vision already. Like I said, we’re actively working on designs for large-scale printers that can create entire framing sections, whole roofs as a single piece for cheaper than you can currently get them, stuff like that. We just need cash to build the facilities.”

“And you have clients lined up.”

“Yes, sir. If we were to take orders right now, I would think we could count on at least half a million in instant sales, just in the little pieces we’re currently capable of producing, with the little bit of online marketing and crowdfunding we’ve done.”

I nod. “Okay. I like your ideas. Show me some numbers, some projections.” I scratch my stubble, deciding on a number. “I think I’m in for…say, two million?”

Marcus can’t quite contain his excitement. “I can have those numbers for you right now, Mr. Bristow. Just…just hold on.” He rummages on his desk, flipping through stacks of papers.

“I have another appointment to get to. Just email them to me.” I stand up and button my suit coat. “My investment isn’t going to disappear in the next twenty minutes, Marcus.”

He abandons his search and extends his hand to me over his desk, and we shake. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Bristow.”

I give him my best grin. “Hey, we’re in business together now. Call me Thai.”

“Well, Thai, I can tell you without reservation that all of us here at Tree-Free 3D Construction Supply are very excited to have you on board.”

I can’t help a laugh. “We might have to work on that name, though. It’s a little…clunky.”

He laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, we played with a lot of other ones, and believe it or not, that’s the best one.”

I shake my head. “What about…Green Lumber?”

He chokes on…a laugh? On shock? Not sure. “That’s, um, already a company, sir.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Men’s, um, supplements.” He holds up a fist, and his index finger lifts slowly upward. “For, uh…men’s…erectile….issues. Also, green lumber is already a thing, in the construction trade. Just means untreated lumber. Not what we’re going for.”

I wave a hand. “Whatever. Run a test group or something. A focus group. It’s gotta roll off the tongue, and Tree-Free 3D Construction Supply just doesn’t.”

He nods. “Got it. Focus group.” He makes a note on his phone—which is not an iPhone or an Android, but something…else. Nor is it an old-school dumbphone, like a Nokia.

“What kind of phone is that?”

“It’s a Light Phone 2.”

“A what?”

“Minimalist cell phone. It’s e-ink, like on a Kindle. It can only call, text, and set alarms.”

I shake my head. “Why?”

He snorts. “Well, because I needed to be free of the distractions and addictions of the smartphone age. I was on my phone literally all the time. Now, when I need to talk to someone, I have to call them, or text them. No more social media. No more doom-scrolling. When I make notes, I send them in a text to my assistant.”

I shake my head again. “Weird, man, but you do you.” I pull my phone, the latest and greatest iPhone. “All right, well. Shoot me those numbers, and I’ll work on getting the investment rolling. I gotta go, I have an appointment to get to.”

I do actually have an appointment. With Destiny.

In this case, Destiny has utterly mind-blowing DDD tits, and considers the art of the no-hands blowjob to be her calling in life.

Sure, the tits are fake and talking to her is like talking to a tree stump, if the tree stump was a vapid bimbo with an IQ in direct inverse proportion to her silicone content. But damn, can she suck.