Wendy Solo knocked lightly, then stepped into the office in a fitted lavender skirt suit, tall and poised as ever.
"Boss, we've got a result from the Kleiner Perkins negotiation."
Bruce gestured toward the chair across from his desk, his expression calm.
"Sit. Tell me."
Wendy nodded, took her seat, and said with barely contained excitement, "Fifteen million dollars in cash, paid in one lump sum. In exchange, we get the 6.5 percent of Google they're holding."
Bruce rubbed his chin and nodded slightly.
"Looks like, with the Nasdaq crash getting worse by the day, Kleiner Perkins finally blinked."
"From what we've learned, Fund III, the one handling their internet investments, has already had investors pull capital three times this month. The pressure is spilling over into the broader tech side too. They're starting to feel it." Wendy paused, then looked at him expectantly. "Boss, should we drag this out a little longer? Between the falling market and investor withdrawals, there may still be room to push the price down."
Bruce considered it, then shook his head.
"No. Fifteen million it is."
It was already June 10. That left only nineteen days before the two-month deadline in his agreement with Google ran out. He had no intention of pushing his luck. If Kleiner Perkins changed its mind at the last minute, the whole plan could collapse.
"Understood."
Once Bruce had made a decision, Wendy never wasted time arguing.
"What about Michael Moritz? Any reply?"
"I was just getting to that." Wendy straightened slightly. "He wants to meet you today at three o'clock at the Half Moon Bay Golf Links, Ocean Course."
Half Moon Bay Golf Links, Ocean Course, was one of California's most famous courses, often mentioned in the same breath as Pebble Beach, Torrey Pines, TPC Stadium, Pacific Grove, and Chardonnay Golf Club. With California's mild weather, the course never really lacked players.
Crack.
The club connected cleanly, and the white golf ball traced a beautiful arc through the air before settling roughly three meters from the hole.
"Nice shot," Bruce said, clapping lightly.
"Your turn, Mr. Guo."
The man beside him, a lean, sharp-featured white man in a dark gray T-shirt, smiled pleasantly.
Bruce stepped forward with his club and gave a self-deprecating smile.
"My golf game isn't much to brag about. Try not to laugh too hard if I embarrass myself, Mr. Moritz."
Michael Moritz smiled.
"For people like us, golf skill isn't really the point. It's the pleasure of playing that matters."
Bruce nodded, took his stance, and swung.
The result was exactly what you would expect from someone who rarely played golf. Moritz had left his ball three meters from the second hole. Bruce's shot flew clean past it and nearly headed toward the third.
Moritz chuckled.
"Youth has its advantages."
Bruce laughed awkwardly.
"I was a starting point guard in college. Sometimes too much strength becomes a problem."
"When I was younger, I liked basketball too. Unfortunately, I didn't have your talent. I tried out at Columbia and got cut in the first round."
That single line smoothed Bruce's embarrassment considerably. It also told him something important. The man beside him had excellent social instincts.
As they walked toward the second hole, Bruce smiled.
"You come here often, Mr. Moritz?"
"I do." Moritz looked out over the vast course. "Compared to Pebble Beach, the Ocean Course feels wider. Here you can really take a full swing and enjoy the feeling of driving the ball as far as possible." He paused, then glanced at Bruce. "It also helps me think long term."
"Long term?"
Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly, catching the shift in tone at once.
Moritz kept his gaze on the fairway.
"If you hadn't seen a future in Google, you wouldn't have been so determined to acquire its shares. From what I hear, the 6.5 percent held by Kleiner Perkins is already as good as yours. And let's not forget Andy Bechtolsheim's 3.25 percent."
Bruce smiled faintly and did not deny it.
"I'm flattered you know so much about me."
Moritz smiled back.
"And I'm sure the reverse is also true."
Bruce nodded.
"Then let's be direct. Twenty-five million dollars for Sequoia's 10 percent stake in Google. A twenty-five percent return in under a year is already an excellent result, both for you and for Sequoia."
Crack.
Before Bruce had even finished, Moritz swung again, sending his own ball cleanly forward.
The deliberate discourtesy was obvious enough, and Bruce's brows tightened for a fraction of a second. But he had lived too much life to let something that petty show on his face. He stayed composed.
"Mr. Guo, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Why are you so confident about Google?"
Moritz fixed him with a sharp, searching look.
Bruce smiled.
"For the same reason you are. The difference is that I answer only to myself. At Sequoia, the man who really decides is Don Valentine."
Moritz's expression shifted at once, darkening.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Bruce did not answer right away. Instead, he walked over to his ball, set himself, and took a full swing.
This shot was much better.
Moritz's eyes narrowed. He had tried to rattle Bruce, and Bruce had calmly returned the favor.
This kid really did not like taking a hit without hitting back.
"That was a better shot," Bruce said mildly.
Moritz's smile had thinned.
"You improve fast."
Bruce turned back toward him.
"I've heard Sequoia's board has never been happy with how heavily you leaned into internet investing."
Moritz lifted a brow.
"I don't know where you get your information, Mr. Guo. The board has always supported Fund III's internet investments. Our Yahoo position alone delivered nearly a twofold return to Sequoia Fund III's limited partners."
Bruce nodded.
"Your investment in Yahoo was brilliant. Your eye for internet companies is undeniable. But Yahoo is no longer sitting at its 1999 peak. Its market value has already dropped by nearly a third."
"Even now, it's still worth far more than what we originally put in," Moritz said.
"True. Which is why I said the investment itself was brilliant." Bruce's tone stayed even. "Unfortunately, people have short memories. When the Nasdaq collapse started, you didn't exit the Yahoo position. You didn't protect your investors from the drawdown. And once their assets started shrinking, all your earlier success stopped mattering. In moments like that, one mistake becomes your original sin."
Moritz said nothing.
Because he couldn't.
Tensions inside Sequoia were not the kind of thing you could hide forever from consultants, recruiters, and information brokers.
Bruce kept going.
"Don Valentine is an excellent investor. That doesn't necessarily make him an excellent partner. Compared to me, you know much better how different your investment philosophies really are. In normal times, that difference might not matter much. But once the Nasdaq imploded, it became fuel. As Sequoia's founder, he won't tolerate the possibility that internet investments could drag down the firm's returns, even if it's only a risk."
Moritz's silence deepened.
Bruce saw the moment clearly. The opening was there.
So he stopped circling and made his real move.
"Come work with me."
Moritz's body stiffened. He looked up sharply, eyes fixed on Bruce.
"What did you say?"
Bruce met his gaze, completely steady.
"I have a new venture capital firm. I've personally committed thirty million dollars to it. I can give you 5 percent equity. You run the firm. Fully. Unless total firm assets fall more than 20 percent, I won't interfere in day-to-day management. On top of that, you'll receive 10 percent of the firm's total profits."
Moritz's face went through several changes in quick succession.
The offer was not light. Bruce was effectively putting one and a half million dollars on the table immediately, plus a meaningful share of future upside. The conflict in Moritz's eyes was impossible to miss.
Which told Bruce everything he needed to know.
Things inside Sequoia had been going badly enough that freedom suddenly looked very attractive.
"Mr. Moritz," Bruce said with a small smile, "right now you have the chance to control a venture capital firm of your own. Think carefully. What suits you better, a platform where you can act freely, or staying under Don Valentine as a lieutenant?"
Moritz took a long breath.
"I need time to think."
"Of course." Bruce nodded easily. "But I hope you won't take too long."
Moritz gave a slow nod.
"I won't."