Several hands went up for questions, particularly about regulatory issues, which were handled confidently by Terry Ransbury, 39, the company's co-founder and its chief technology officer.
Furphy, 35, of Notiva went next. He started off badly, with an audience participation trick -- "Who's had a career in accounts payable?" -- that elicited weary sighs. One angel took a look at Furphy's nearly shaved head and whispered, "Who'd trust someone with a haircut like that?" But heads started nodding as Furphy described the big retailers that are already using Notiva's software. The company's management team, with years of experience at Wegmans, also got the thumbs-up.
Speedy presentation
Then the 20-minute timer on the table turned yellow. With three minutes left, Furphy sped through his PowerPoint presentation like the pitchmen in the latest Toyota commercials, abandoning sentences halfway through. "We've thought about getting a hook for moments like these," Hoar confided.
The brief Q-and-A session consisted mostly of questions about Notiva's venture capital financing. Notiva's team was hoping to raise US$500,000 from the angels to tide the company over until it secures US$3 million to US$5 million in venture capital.
The audience was tiring in spite of the coffee making the rounds. And the final start-up, a developer of software platforms to allow wireless carriers to customize their mobile phone offerings, did not perk them back up. One investor even fell asleep over his apple tart.
Afterward, as people milled around, Furphy insisted that his timer malfunctioned. "I was robbed of a good seven minutes," he laughed. He was not too troubled; apparently several angels indicated that they would show up for Notiva's follow-up lunch.
Before the chill in investing hit, two of the three companies that presented themselves to the band could probably expect to get checks. Now, it's more likely to be one. But which?
As it turned out, no one but Notiva's sponsors and the two managing directors showed up for its lunch. The band's members were cautious, waiting to see if the company was indeed about to get a "term sheet," a venture capital contract. Others were less concerned. The morning of the follow-up, said Mark Brandt, the company's chief development officer, a single angel investor from outside the group committed to the entire sum.
The clear favorite of the evening was Cardiac Focus. In the week after the dinner, 10 members wrote checks, while another four rounded out the company's US$2 million goal at its lunch.
"The mechanisms of the funding are pretty much the same, independent of product," Ransbury, of Cardiac Focus, wrote in an e-mail the day after the dinner. "If you get critical mass with the investors who the followers admire, then the deal happens. If not, it really doesn't matter, even if you have the cure for cancer."
But Cardiac Focus still faces many hurdles, including proving its device works well enough to get FDA approval and eligibility for Medicare reimbursement.
At least now it has a greater chance of finding out. "The lust for entrepreneurship has not changed," Severiens said. "And now there are great bargains to be had."



