The young entrepreneurs sat on the other side of Derek’s desk, looking crestfallen when he finished his in-depth analysis of their pitch. “So in other words, you’re not going to fund us,” the lead programmer said with obvious resentment.This was the part of the job Derek loathed. He regarded the trio of budding geniuses. “As I said, your ideas are great. The business plan is not.”“How do we fix that?” the more amenable software designer asked.“Find an executive with experience running a small software company, and a chief financial officer, to help set things up.”The marketing guru shook her head vehemently. “We don’t need someone already set in his or her ways telling us what to do! The whole point of starting our own company is so we can run things ourselves!”Knowing he’d done what he could to set them on the right path, Derek stood and shook their hands in turn. “Then I wish you luck,” he said.But they wouldn’t be getting any venture capital from his company.Alma May, his fifty-something administrative assistant, popped her head in the door after the surly trio departed.
