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When they arrived in Austin, Monica immediately swept the girls away for a meeting with a promising investor. In all the years that girlcrush had worked with their manager, on only a few occasions had they seen her smile like she had when she picked them up. That made the meeting all the more important. If Monica smiled, it had to be good news.
As everyone piled into the SUV taking them to an office downtown, Monica eagerly fixed her makeup in between responding to emails while the four girls nervously awaited to meet this mysterious investor.
"So, who exactly are we meeting?" Sloane questions.
"Her name is Evelyn Huang," Monica explains, "She was a talent manager back in the early two- thousands for all the hottest singers and groups. She ended up making enough money to start her own talent agency, which she sold last year for one point three billion dollars."
"Holy shit," Daria exclaims, "What does someone even do with that kind of money?"
"Well, apparently she has more than she knows what to do with," their manager explains, "and that's why she's been looking to invest in some female owned businesses in the industry. I hear she's willing to part with over five million dollars to various companies. Everyone has been pitching to her."
"So, we have competition," Sloane huffs, head tilting to stare out the nearest window.
"You'll always have competition," Monica reminds, "and it won't get better, even if we end up getting this money."
"But you think we have a chance?" Billie questions hopefully, nerves already eating her alive.
"I think we do," Monica assures, "And that's why I want you girls to put your best foot forward and show Evelyn why you're worth her investment."
"We will," the girls reply in unison, but Billie can sense the anxiety in each of their tones. They had been rejected time after time again, and she began to wonder if any of the girls had already given up on the venture entirely.
As they reach their destination and make their way up the elevator to Evelyn's office, Billie is somewhat surprised by the modesty of the space. It's not nearly as glamorous as Mad Sounds, but it is somehow all the more daunting.
There's a solitary, black desk in the center of the room that contains a laptop and a few framed pictures, which she imagines are of Evelyn's family. To the right are built in shelves that contain a multitude of memorabilia from her time working as an agent. Multiple signed records, pictures, and even a grammy are visible.
"Ms. Huang will be right in," her assistant explains before motioning for the girls to take a seat on the wide, white leather couch across from the desk. Monica takes a seat on the single, matching chair angled next to the couch.
Within a few moments, a petite woman in her mid-fifties arrives. She's wearing a fitted black dress that goes down to her knees, a pair of sheer black stockings, and five inch Louboutin stilettos. Her hair is bobbed with streaks of silver running through it. Evelyn Huang is positively posh, even down to her perfectly manicured nails.
