"Sixteen in two months," Peter repeated. A small smile touched his lips.
"Right." Tony's coffee arrived. He took a sip without taking his attention off Peter.
"Okay. Here's the deal. I want you at Stark Industries. Not as an intern running errands. Not as some kid fetching coffee for real scientists. As a consultant. Peer-level work."
Peter raised an eyebrow. The first sign of surprise he'd shown. "I'm still in high school. I have classes and homework."
"Remote work," Tony said immediately. He'd obviously thought this through already.
"Email collaboration like we've been doing for two years. But official this time. Paid position. Access to SI databases and research resources." He leaned forward with intensity.
"I need someone who'll tell me when I'm wrong. Someone who won't sugarcoat things or worry about my feelings. Turns out that's harder to find than I thought."
Peter considered it. His mind worked through the implications quickly. Access to Stark Industries resources would be invaluable for his own research.
The databases alone contained proprietary information that most universities couldn't access.
Experimental data from decades of cutting-edge work. Not to mention the networking opportunities and credibility it would provide.
"What's the catch?" Peter asked. Because there was always a catch.
"No catch. Just don't make me regret trusting a teenager." Tony smiled. A genuine expression this time. "So? You in?"
Peter extended his hand across the table.
"I'm in."
They shook hands. Firm grip on both sides. Equal to equal. No condescension. No power games. Just two intelligent people recognizing each other's value.
'This changes things,' Peter thought as they released the handshake. 'Access to SI technology. Tony's resources. His connections and knowledge. This accelerates everything I've been planning.'
Tony stood up from his chair. Adjusted his suit jacket. "I'll have legal send over the contracts within the hour. Non-disclosure agreements. Intellectual property clauses. The usual corporate paperwork. Read them carefully before signing. I assume you will anyway."
"I will," Peter confirmed. He remained seated but his posture was relaxed. Confident.
"Good." Tony put his sunglasses back on properly. Prepared to leave. "Oh, and Parker? Your energy storage patent that just sold last month? The one that made you twenty-five million dollars?"
Peter's expression didn't change. Didn't show any surprise that Tony knew about that. "What about it?"
"I know that was you. Anonymous holding company or not." Tony grinned. The expression was almost predatory.
"The math signature in the patent application matches your email writing style. You've got a very distinct approach to solving energy density problems."
Peter allowed himself a small smile. "And?"
"And nothing. Just letting you know you're not as anonymous as you think you are." Tony headed for the door. His confident walk carrying him away.
Then he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "You're going to do something important, kid. I can tell. Just... try not to blow anything up in the process."
"No promises," Peter said.
Tony laughed and pushed through the door. Left the coffee shop and disappeared into the New York street traffic outside.
Peter sat alone in the coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere returned. Other customers went back to ignoring him. He picked up his coffee cup and took another sip. It had gone slightly cold.
His phone buzzed again on the table. He picked it up and checked. Email from Stark Industries legal department.
The contract was already drafted and attached. They'd had it prepared before Tony even came to the meeting.
Peter opened the attachment and started reading. Every single clause. Every piece of fine print. Every definition and stipulation and legal protection.
Because that's what smart people did. They read contracts thoroughly before signing them.
The contract was actually fair. More than fair. Tony had been serious about the peer-level collaboration.
The compensation was substantial. The access rights were extensive. The intellectual property clauses protected both parties equally.
'Peer relationship with Tony Stark,' Peter thought as he scrolled through the pages. 'Not bad for a fifteen-year-old kid from Queens.'
He finished reading. Pulled out his phone stylus. Signed the digital contract with careful strokes. Sent it back through the encrypted email system.
His phone buzzed one more time. Confirmation of receipt. Welcome to Stark Industries.
Peter smiled and finished his cold coffee.
---
Peter checked his bank account on his phone. The screen showed his current balance in clear digital numbers.
The amount still looked surreal even though he'd been staring at it for the past ten minutes.
$75,000,000.00
Seventy-five million dollars. Not theoretical wealth tied up in stocks or assets. Liquid cash. Accessible. Real money that he could spend or transfer right now if he wanted to.
The energy storage patent had sold for twenty-five million dollars to a major electronics manufacturer.
His other patents, carefully distributed through multiple shell companies and legal proxies, had generated another fifty million over the past few years.
All of it hidden from public view. Protected by layers of corporate structure. Anonymous.
Until now, he'd kept most of it locked away in long-term investments. Stocks that would grow over time.
Bonds that paid steady interest. Index funds that tracked the market. Safe vehicles but not easily accessible. The kind of wealth you couldn't just spend on a whim.
The family thought his inventions had made maybe half a million dollars. A nice sum. Enough to be comfortable. Enough to help with bills and save for college. Not enough to fundamentally change everything about their lives.
But Aunt May needed surgery. Not cancer, thank god. Peter had made sure to check that thoroughly. Something fixable with modern medicine.
A heart valve issue that required a specialized procedure. Expensive though. Two hundred thousand dollars for the surgery and recovery.
Insurance would cover some of it but not nearly enough.
Uncle Ben was looking at second mortgages on the house. Payment plans stretched over decades. Ways to make the math work without destroying their savings completely.
'No,' Peter thought as he stared at the number on his phone screen. 'Not anymore. Time to end this charade.'
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