First Million-Dollar Room

She was thirty, Indian American, black hair tied back, no makeup Ethan could detect, navy blazer over a white shirt, eyes bright with anger and sleep deprivation. She looked at Marcus first, then Colin, then Ethan. "Who is this?" she asked. "Ethan Cole," Marcus said. "Public-market analyst. Recent internet curiosity." "I don't need curiosities. I need a term sheet that doesn't treat my company like distressed inventory." Colin went pale. Marcus leaned back. "Good to see you too, Leena." She dropped a folder on the table. "Your participating preferred clause is predatory, your pro rata language is a land grab, and if you think an acquisition rumor gives you leverage, you misread me." Ethan felt the room sharpen. Acquisition rumor.