There's a building in San Francisco where something strange is happening. There's no sign, launch post, or press release. But over the past few weeks, some of the sharpest founders and investors I know have started disappearing into it. Inside, I've watched a term sheet get negotiated at a kitchen counter. A founder find her cofounder over bad coffee that nobody complained about. An angel wire into a deal he heard about forty minutes earlier, three feet from where it was pitched. Someone asked me yesterday what we're calling it. I told them the truth: the people inside already know, and that's exactly how we want it for now. I'll say only this. It's on a street named after a president. The number on the door adds up to 11. And if you know, you know. The list is not open. But it is watching. More coming soon.