
“You have a time machine?” Arthur Wilbur looked more CPA than angel investor: five-six, wire-rimmed glasses, bow tie, tweed jacket.
Dina, arms crossed over her gray M.I.T. sweatshirt, said, “I can’t discuss anything until you sign the NDA.”
Without reading, Wilbur scribbled his signature and handed the sheet to Dina’s partner, Jarrod.
Jarrod scanned the document. “Excellent.”...