The Underwriting by Michelle Miller Page B

get the S-1 together and send it to the SEC. From there, the deal would be announced publicly and attention would start to flood in; then the road show, the pricing call, and the big day when they’d ring the opening bell on NASDAQ and all make millions.
    â€œYeah.” Beau squinted at his iPhone without looking up. “T Two. Tara Taylor. Get it?” He waited for her to be impressed with his cleverness. “Anyway,” he went on, “you’ve only got eighteen reviews. Twelve hundred eighty-three views, but only eighteen reviews. What gives?”
    Tara shrugged. She seemed to genuinely not know her stats. “I don’t really use it,” she said, going back to her computer.
    â€œBoyfriend?” Beau asked.
    â€œNo.” She looked up and gave him a polite
Please shut up
smile.
    â€œAren’t you, like, thirty?” Beau pressed. “Better get on it.”
    â€œI’m twenty-eight.” She finally looked up. When she saw the playfulness in Beau’s smile, she laughed, cracking.
    Beau grinned, pleased with himself for lightening the seriousness in the room.
    â€œHow many views have you got, Todd?” Beau asked.
    â€œMe?” Todd cocked a brow. He’d last checked Hook this morning, on the way into the office. He’d had eight new messages and 432 new views since last night. “I don’t know, seventy thousand or so?” Not true: it was 83,612, but he could afford to be modest.
    â€œOkay, big shot.” Tara pretended not to be impressed with Todd’s stats and turned back to Beau, her long brown hair falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head. She looked particularly pretty today, which Todd assumed was for his benefit. “What do I need to do?”
    â€œWell . . .” Beau adjusted himself in his seat and sat up seriously. Neha glanced up from her computer long enough to show she wished they would shut up.
    â€œFor starters, you have to rate more guys,” Beau instructed. “Here, let me see your phone.” He grabbed it before she could protest and clicked open the app.
    â€œHey!” she said.
    â€œPassword?” he asked.
    â€œJetgirls two thousand three,” she said.
    Beau lifted an eyebrow.
    â€œWest Side Story
.
”
Todd didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until he saw them looking at him. “She was in
West Side Story
in college,” he explained to Beau. “My buddy Tom was in it, so I had to go see.” Then he turned to Tara. “And you were very good. That dance number.” He gestured with his hands.
    She laughed again.
    â€œWhatever,” he said and went back to his computer.
    Beau was into Tara’s Hook app now, flipping through and tapping like a pro.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” She reached across the table for the phone.
    â€œI rated Todd and me each as tens, hope that’s okay.” He pulled the phone out of her reach. “The only way you’re going to get more people to see you is if you rate more people,” he said. “I’m helping you out here, T Two!” His voice was comical and easygoing, the voice of a guy bred to be the charismatic life of the party.
    â€œBut I don’t need help,” she insisted. “I promise, I don’t use it.”
    â€œYou’re twenty-eight and single! You have two years left before you go crazy and men don’t date you anymore,” Beau said energetically. “The time is now, T Two!”
    â€œNot through Hook,” Tara said, making a face. “It’s gross.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI don’t want to meet up with some stranger just because he’s close by,” Tara said.
    â€œAnd also liked your profile,” Beau corrected.
    â€œA guy liking my profile has more to do with how desperate he is to get laid at that moment than anything to do with me.”
    â€œNo different from real life,” Beau said.
    â€œDon’t tell me