American History 1988
Chapter 172 - 166 Agreement

Chapter 172: Chapter 166 Agreement

After lunch at Bill Dreaper’s house, Dean returned to his residence in Palo Alto.

No, perhaps now it would be more fitting to call it "home," since Dean had moved all his luggage over.

It wasn’t much, considering he was still a student. Everything from the dorm at Stanford had been moved in one trip by car.

The sprawling mansion was now bustling inside and out, with gardeners, cleaning staff, and furniture movers coming and going.

Though he was the only one living there, it didn’t feel empty at all.

To ensure that all the house’s facilities were running smoothly, Dean had even hired someone akin to a housekeeper.

Her main duties involved managing Dean’s daily life, such as dietary habits, cleaning, security, and so forth.

"Lucy, please wash the car for me." Handing over the keys to the housekeeper, Lucy, Dean was ready to head back to his room to relax for a while.

He had ordered a home entertainment system to listen to music and watch movies, which also counted as a weekend pastime.

But before Dean could leave, Lucy called out to him again.

"Mr. Price, a Mr. White came looking for you just now. He said he’s your classmate."

White? Dean was taken aback, then promptly realized she was talking about Marcus.

"Where is he?"

"Waiting in the living room."

"OK, got it." Dean nodded and walked across the lawn towards the main house.

"Hey~ Dean, this place is fucking cool!"

As Dean entered, he saw Marcus reclining on the couch with his feet up, fresh pastries and coffee at his side.

From his comfortable demeanor, one might assume he was the owner of the place.

"The coffee table under your feet is worth 1,500 US dollars. If you don’t want Jonny to throw you out, put your feet down and behave."

"Mother F*cker! This damn table costs 1,500 dollars?!" Marcus quickly moved his feet off the table and stared curiously at the walnut coffee table.

Of course, the Jonny that Dean mentioned was also one reason why Marcus promptly sat up straight. If he guessed correctly, that burly Texan at the door was him.

"Where’s David? Didn’t you two rent an apartment together in Menlo Park?" The Stanford campus was semi-closed for the summer.

Since Marcus and David were shareholders in Byte Company, they rented an apartment nearby to continue working.

"David, that nerd, he went to a local computer club meeting." Marcus shrugged boredly – the weekend had no appeal for him.

"So what brings you here today?" Dean grabbed a bottle of chilled cola from the refrigerator; he preferred it to coffee in the summer.

"You mentioned before that an uncle of yours might be able to help with the lawsuit, so I figured you’d be back, and so..." Marcus gestured with a spread hand, having nothing better to do.

"It went fairly well; we’ve made some connections at the Northern District Court, but we also had to offer some additional benefits."

Dean then shared a bit of what happened at Bill Dreaper’s home with Marcus, without disclosing specific names and the promises of the deal.

There are unspoken understandings that Dean knows all too well before a deal is sealed.

Even though Judge James Weir and Bill Dreaper shared an unbreakable bond, nothing could escape the concept of "interests."

According to Bill, he had started reaching out to his old war buddy a week prior.

Although James initially agreed to help mediate, he had not given a firm promise.

Only today, as Dean transformed into an entrepreneurial star on the West Coast,

did Judge Weir, after being propagated by talk shows and newspapers, give a rather favorable first impression of the young man and received societal praise, accept Bill’s invitation and agree to meet Dean.

It is only when the advantage reaches a certain level and there is enough certainty that these middle-ground key figures place their bets.

Of course, even so, it wasn’t a favor done for nothing.

After Dean hinted that Byte software would soon go public, James happily accepted his business card.

Dean now awaited the reaction from the Northern District Court, and if the desired result was obtained,

Byte software would set aside a portion of its investment shares as compensation in the next round of funding.

The unspoken agreement would mean that future transactions would be handled by a clean shell company.

"Mother F*cker! This shit is too complicated, I hate dealing with politicians!"

Having more or less understood the situation, Marcus was quite repelled by this kind of action. Not yet a junior, he still harbored some illusions about the free entrepreneurial atmosphere of Silicon Valley.

In response to his complaints, Dean smiled with a sense of schadenfreude, "If you want to succeed in Silicon Valley in the future, then you must learn to play by these rules."

"Oh~Come on, I’m more interested in parties!" Marcus got up and also grabbed a bottle of cola from the fridge, "There’s a party in San Francisco tonight, wanna go?"

"No! I’d rather stay at home and watch TV." After his trip to Los Angeles, Dean temporarily didn’t want to have anything to do with any party.

"Then lend me your car," Marcus gestured with his hand.

Dean was taken aback, "What about your Ferrari?"

"Uhh~" Marcus scratched his head awkwardly, "It’s in for repairs after a crash."

"Are you sure you can return it to me intact?" Dean looked at him skeptically.

"Of course, I promise I won’t kiss any girls in your car; last time was completely by accident," Marcus assured earnestly.

"I hope you’re right, go find Lucy." Dean waved him off and went back upstairs on his own.

Lately, he was on an international BBS forum, discussing issues related to the development of the HyperText Markup Language.

That’s right, he was talking to none other than Berners Lee, the inventor of the web browser.

Earlier this year, Dean had stumbled upon his development log by chance.

The prevailing attitude among today’s tech elite towards network technology is one of sharing, which is why Dean easily made contact with him.

They communicated with each other about the development of this new technology language through forums and emails, and Dean himself was a tech expert, so he gave lots of suggestions to Berners Lee.

After several exchanges, the two had become old friends on the internet despite never having met in person.

In the study of this villa, Dean also equipped himself with a full set of internet devices.

Here in Silicon Valley, there were already private NSF network providers, but internet access was extremely expensive, averaging close to 30 US dollars an hour.

Besides the wealthy, it was almost impossible for ordinary people to access the internet.

However, due to policy and scale limitations, this fee didn’t surprise Dean too much.

He knew that in no more than two years, these charges would drop dramatically, and the number of internet users would rise exponentially.

One of the key contributors to this was Berners Lee, whom he had met on BBS.

After checking his mailbox, Dean had a rough idea about the development progress of the World Wide Web.

Some key parts were nearing completion, and it was possible that everything could be finished by the end of the year.

After typing on the keyboard for a while, Dean replied to all the unread emails in his mailbox.

But when he saw the newspaper laid out on his desk, he remembered another person.

He glanced outside the window, and it was almost dusk.

Finding the note he had brought back from Los Angeles, Dean dialed the phone carefully.

"Hello, this is the Wood Street Apartments in Los Angeles." A voice rich with magnetism answered.

Hearing this slightly guarded response, Dean couldn’t help but smile, "It’s me, Jenny."

"Dean?" Jennifer was somewhat surprised as she put down the script in her hands, "I didn’t expect it to be you."

"Sorry for calling you now, about the stuff in the newspaper, I..."

"It’s me who should be apologizing," Jennifer was already used to the presence of entertainment reporters.

But it was the first time Dean had been exposed under the spotlight, and she felt somewhat regretful about it.

"No, actually it’s nothing." Dean leaned back in his chair to relax, "I really enjoyed the two days I spent in Los Angeles; I’ve never had such an experience before."

"Really?" Jennifer hugged her knees, a smile on her face.

"Of course, Los Angeles was more beautiful than I thought, both the scenery and the people there."

Jennifer thought back to the night of the party, even though they had only danced together and felt each other’s lips, it was still wonderful.

"Jenny, are you still there?"

"Yes," Jennifer hurriedly collected herself, realizing she had been daydreaming.

"So are you still in Los Angeles right now?"

"I’m getting ready to head back to New York. Director Dennis said the film’s release might be delayed, so we’re not in a rush with the promotion."

"Oh, that’s really a shame." Dean swiveled his chair before tentatively asking, "Yale is on vacation now, right?"

"Of course, I suppose Stanford is the same." After all, it was summer break, and the vacation schedules of universities across the US were pretty similar.

"Yeah," Dean tapped the desk unconsciously with his fingers, "So do you have time to come to San Francisco?

You know, the scenery here in the inner bay is amazing. The Golden Gate Bridge, Angel Island Park...

During the summer break, we can surf, enjoy the beach, and all sorts of delicious food."

"So Dean, is this an invitation for a date?" Jennifer Connolly asked bluntly.

Dean was taken aback, "Yeah~, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say. Jenny, you may not realize how charming you are.

I can’t stop thinking about that evening, it was incomparable, wonderfully intoxicating."

"But you only called me today," Jennifer continued to take the initiative.

"Uh... Jenny. Sorry, because of the previous program, I’ve received a lot of interview requests these past days..."

"OK," Jennifer didn’t press him further, "I know, your company has encountered some trouble, that’s what you should be focusing on."

"So, have you agreed?"

"Hmm..." Jennifer took a quick glance outside the door where her mother was absent, "I’ll find an opportunity."

"Great!" Dean couldn’t help but punch the air in excitement, "Remember to call me, I’ll get everything ready."

"Hmm~," Jennifer agreed with a laugh.

"Then, see you in San Francisco," Dean hung up the phone cheerfully.

He was busy, but a beautiful woman was just as important.

Come on, millions, tens of millions, billions of dollars, what’s the use of having more?

If you don’t spend them, they are just a set of numbers after all.

Would this bring enough sense of achievement to Dean?

In the past it might have, but only seizing the moment would make wealth meaningful.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling...

"Damn it!" The ringing phone interrupted Dean’s daydream.

"This is Dean Price."

"Dean, do you remember the thing you promised me?"

"Of course, I’m always available." Dean recognized the voice; it was Dor from KeyPoint Ventures.

"Good, can you spare some time to come to San Francisco in the next few days? I want to introduce you to a friend,"

"No problem, I also have some good news to tell you." Dean had a feeling that the issues with Byte Software were close to being sorted out.

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