At Dad's Retirement Party, They Made Me Park Cars—Then My Tech Company Went Public

Описание: At Dad's Retirement Party, They Made Me Park Cars—Then My Tech Company Went Public
@Revenge Zone

The country club sparkled with old money and older attitudes as I adjusted my simple black vest – standard valet attire. My father's retirement party was in full swing inside, but here I stood at the valet station, courtesy of my family's "thoughtful" planning.
"Jessica, darling," Aunt Margaret had insisted earlier, "you're so good with... practical things. Why not help out tonight?"
Translation: Keep the embarrassing tech failure out of sight.
I checked my phone discreetly – another message from my CFO about tomorrow's announcement. The numbers made me smile as I slipped the device back into my pocket.
"Still glued to that phone?" Cousin James approached the stand, his Rolex catching the evening light. "Social media won't pay the bills, you know."
If he only knew what those quick phone checks were really about. My company's valuation had just cleared final review, and tomorrow's IPO would make headlines.
"Someone has to park the cars," I replied mildly, watching him adjust his thousand-dollar suit.
"At least you found your calling," he smirked. "Banking too challenging?"
I thought of the banking software my company had developed – the one James's firm had desperately tried to license last month, not knowing it was mine.
"I manage," I said, taking another set of keys from a arriving guest.
The party inside grew louder. Through the grand windows, I could see my father holding court, probably explaining again how his "poor Jessica" had thrown away her MBA to "play with computers."
"Hey, parking girl!" Another cousin waved from his Mercedes. "Try not to scratch it like those failed apps of yours!"
Failed apps. Right. The same "failed" technology that was about to revolutionize global finance. The same "worthless code" that had major banks in bidding wars.
My phone buzzed again – the NASDAQ confirmation. Everything was set for tomorrow's opening bell.
"You know," James leaned against the valet stand, "there's still a junior position open at my firm. Entry-level, of course. Perfect for someone with your... limited experience."
I bit back a laugh, remembering how his firm's CEO had begged for a meeting last week, not realizing the mysterious founder they were pursuing was his colleague's "wayward" cousin.
"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, watching another luxury car pull up.
"Still dreaming of that tech startup?" He chuckled. "What was it called again? Something silly..."
"QuantumFlow Technologies," I said quietly, just as a news alert lit up the TV visible through the club's window.
James didn't notice the screen behind him, too busy pontificating about "realistic career choices" and "accepting one's limitations."
My phone vibrated continuously now – board members, investors, and reporters all trying to reach me before tomorrow's announcement. The same announcement that would turn the financial world upside down.
"Your father's so worried," James continued. "All that education wasted on failed apps and parking cars..."
The TV screen changed again, showing stock market predictions for tomorrow. I caught a glimpse of my company's logo, but James was still facing me, oblivious.
"Here," he tossed his keys at me. "Try not to dent my Porsche. It's worth more than your entire 'company.'"
If he'd turned around, he'd have seen his own firm's logo among the list of major investors in tomorrow's IPO. The irony would have been delicious.
"Did you at least dress properly for the party?" he asked, eyeing my valet uniform.


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