Chapter 2:
Alison

At home that night I tried to sleep, and tried, and tried. I had downed a couple of shots after a half-eaten frozen dinner, and my mind kept whirling in tangled thoughts, thoughts poisoned by a few words written in a journal. I had locked the journal in my safe, deciding there was nothing I could do with it, nothing other than... not believeit.

I got up from bed and opened the French doors and stood on the deck overlooking the Los Gatos hills spreading below and stared at the twinkling lights of Silicon Valley. Mother owned and developed a great deal of that real estate out there. She just left all of it to me, along with the cabin in the mountains. Was that a curse? Per Mother’s will, I can’t just sell the cabin, can’t tear it down and build any kind of replacement on the lot; I can only maintain it and pass it on. Who wants to pass on a curse? My only child, Kelly, never liked going up to the cabin, said it felt “creepy” to her. There definitely is something bizarre about thecabin.

I went back in the bedroom and settled at my desk, opened my laptop. I don’t allow the screening of my incoming emails, and my company network has twenty-four-seven coverage, and the organization is global. I delegate as much as I feel comfortable with, but as CEO and BOD Chairman, and Founder of Babbage Labs, Inc., I keep my hands in a lot of the pie, for which I am criticized mercilessly. I don’t care; I am theboss.

There is the usual traffic I am copied on, which I skim. But there is one directly to me from Victor Sell, another BOD member and representative from our major VC, Venture Capitalists, investors from Sand Hill Consortium. This one got my attention:Sean, I would like you to find time to interview a candidate for the CFO position, someone I endorse. Her name is Alison Kessler. She is highly qualified, experienced in the tech sector with two very successful IPOs, a fellow MBA from Stanford. Thanks,Victor.

I don’t like or trust Victo