What the accountant said

"So the good news," says Fiona, "is that you have a profitable business." Nate waits. He's been in enough of these meetings to know a "so the good news" is a load-bearing wall with something behind it. "The bad news is you don't have a business. You have a job that you've made very complicated." They're in her office above a bookmaker's in Glasgow. Rain on the window. She's got his accounts up on one screen and a spreadsheet of her own on the other, and the spreadsheet has more red in it than he'd like. "Explain that." "You billed three hundred and twelve thousand last year." "Which is good." "Which is very good. You paid yourself forty-one thousand. You paid your two contractors a hundred and sixty between them. The rest went on software, the office, insurance, the van, and twenty-two thousand pounds of what I'm going to generously call 'client entertainment.'" "Relationships matter in this..." "Nate. I'm not the taxman. I'm just asking you to notice that you're the lowest-paid person in your own company." He notices. He's been not-noticing for two years, quite skilfully. "If you got hit by a bus tomorrow," Fiona says, "what happens to the business?" "Grim." "It's a standard question." "It stops. Obviously it stops. I'm the one who knows the clients." "Right. So what you've built is a very well-paid freelance career for two other people, and a badly paid one for yourself, and a van." She lets that sit. "I'm not saying that's wrong. Some people want that. I'm saying you came in here and told me you want to sell it in five years, and nobody is going to buy a van." Rain. A horse race going on faintly downstairs. "What would you do?" he says. "I'd pay you properly. Then I'd see if it's still profitable. If it isn't, that's information." She turns the screen toward him. "I've drafted three versions. One where you double your salary, one where you hire someone to hold the clients who isn't you, one where you do both and lose the van." "I like the van." "I know you like the van. It's on the sheet in red."