Cracking the Wall

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when James found himself standing outside AT&T's regional headquarters near Union Square. His blazer felt stiffer than usual, the cuffs uncomfortably tight as he nervously adjusted them. This was it. The opportunity that could propel his fledgling company, DoubleClick, into a realm he'd only dreamed of.

The walk from the curb to the entrance felt longer than it was. Inside, the office had the sterile feel of an established corporate giant. The walls were lined with marble, the carpet thick underfoot. Fax machines hummed like silent sentinels, men in suits walked briskly by, and everyone looked like they belonged to a world far removed from the fast-moving energy of Silicon Valley.

James didn't belong here — not yet, at least.

He took a deep breath, checked his reflection in the polished glass doors, and entered.

Behind the heavy oak desk sat Sam Bartley, a senior sales manager at AT&T. Sam flipped through James's DoubleClick brochure with a skeptical look.

"Digital... online advertising?" Sam muttered, raising an eyebrow. "You're talking about putting ads... on computers?"

James exhaled slowly, then leaned forward, his voice steady but urgent.

"Yes, sir. DoubleClick's AdNova system is the most advanced online ad platform in the world. With it, companies like AT&T can place ads across websites automatically. Every visitor will see your brand when they load a page — and here's the best part: you'll know exactly how many people saw it and clicked on it."

Sam tapped the brochure on the desk, his eyes scanning the page slowly. There was a hesitation in his demeanor — the kind of careful consideration that came with being in a high-stakes job at a company like AT&T. James knew he had to keep the pressure on.

"This isn't just about advertising," James continued, his words firm. "This is about leading the future. The Internet is growing fast, and right now, AT&T can be one of the first to truly harness the power of targeted online ads. You'll reach the right customers, every time, and you'll track everything. It's measurable. It's data-driven. And it's where the market is headed."

Sam looked out the window for a moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood. James held his breath, waiting.

Finally, Sam turned back to him with a slow nod. "Look, James, the advertising budget for the year's already locked in. Signed, sealed."

James didn't blink. He had anticipated the objection, but he wasn't backing down.

"Manager Bartley," he said, his voice lowering, "this is history in the making. This will be the world's first true Internet ad campaign. AT&T can either lead — or watch from the sidelines. Do you really want to let your competitors get there first?"

Sam's fingers drummed against the desk faster now, his gaze narrowing as he thought. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the fax machine.

Finally, Sam set the brochure down, picked up a pen, and scribbled something on a notepad before sliding it across the desk.

$30,000.

"For a test," he said, almost casually. "If it bombs, no one cares. If it works... we'll talk bigger numbers next quarter."

James's heart raced, but he kept his cool. He stood up, shaking Sam's hand firmly. "Thank you, Manager Bartley. You won't regret it."

As he left the building, James couldn't stop himself from grinning. Thirty thousand dollars was a big win, but more importantly, it was validation. AT&T was on board, and that opened doors to every other major player in the industry.

The next few days were a blur of meetings and pitch presentations. James had learned that success in this business wasn't just about having a great product — it was about making people believe in it.

He crisscrossed Silicon Valley in his battered Corolla, dropping in on companies like IBM, Intel, Compaq, and even Volvo. Each time he entered a new office, he carried the weight of AT&T's commitment as a badge of credibility.

"Look," he'd say, flashing his confident smile. "AT&T is already on board. Don't get left behind."

Some were skeptical, others intrigued. But more than a few were willing to test the waters with small budgets — $20,000 here, $15,000 there. And by the end of day two, James had racked up $360,000 in ad commitments.

It wasn't world-changing money yet, but it was enough to survive, enough to build. James knew that if he could get a few more clients, this thing could take off. It was the momentum he'd been searching for.

Back at DoubleClick's office that evening, James allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The once-empty room was now bustling with activity. The engineers were tweaking ad templates, the ex-ad agency guys were cold-calling potential clients, and the whiteboard was filled with scribbles of names, numbers, and opportunities.

James had worked tirelessly to turn the empty office into a functioning startup, and it was starting to come together. But he knew that his success wasn't just dependent on the work he did — it was about the people he brought into the fold.

He had enlisted the help of a headhunting agency to find the right talent for the company, and while he hadn't yet built a team in the traditional sense, there were glimmers of brilliance in the people who had begun to come together around him. Each new hire brought something special, whether it was technical expertise, marketing savvy, or the drive to make something great happen.

It wasn't just about the technology, or the revenue. It was about building a foundation — a foundation of people who could carry the vision forward. A foundation that James knew would be critical as DoubleClick continued to grow.

But for now, it was just him. Just his energy and his drive pushing the company forward, one pitch at a time.

That night, at dinner, James could barely contain his excitement. The aroma of roast beef and potatoes filled the room, but all he could think about was what lay ahead.

"I've pulled together three hundred sixty grand," James announced to his family. "And tomorrow, I'm meeting the founders of Netscape."

His father set his fork down, a raised eyebrow signaling a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Netscape?" he asked, his voice cautious. "The Internet company that about to go public?"

James nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Yes. If I can get Netscape to join the AdNova network — if they become a DoubleClick client — the rest of the Internet companies will follow."

His mother, who had been silently watching, reached over and squeezed his hand. A smile stretched across her face. "Then go get 'em, son," she said warmly.

James's heart swelled with pride. Tomorrow would be another step forward. Another opportunity to turn his vision into reality.

Tomorrow was the real beginning.