Clients get their own front door
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and absolutely nothing belonging to anyone else. You choose what each client can see.
For equipment distributors, suppliers and industrial firms
A price was agreed on site, on the phone, by somebody. Six weeks later it reaches their finance team and nobody can say who said yes, or what the figure was at the time. You either eat the difference or spend a fortnight proving you didn’t.
↑ Only Hannah can approve a price. The engineer can ask. He can’t commit their money.
It’s stamped with her name, the date, and the cost as it stood at that moment — frozen, so neither side can revise it afterwards. The specs, the invoices and the open faults all hang off the same record.
Live in five days · no per-seat pricing · the accounts are in your name from day one
None of these people are being unreasonable. They simply have nowhere else to look:
↑ Five interruptions. Two days. Not one of them added a penny of revenue.
Nothing here is broken exactly. It's just that the work lives in one place, the money lives in another, and the client lives in your inbox.
None of it lets the customer look for themselves. So they ring you instead.
Fifty-three screens ship with it. These are the eight that change your week — the rest are there when you want them and quiet when you don't.
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and absolutely nothing belonging to anyone else. You choose what each client can see.
Work goes out as a decision, not an attachment. Approve, or request changes. Recorded, dated, signed by a human. “I never approved that” stops being a conversation.
Account owner signs and pays. Manager approves. Team member uploads and comments. Viewer looks. Set per client in about a minute, and the wrong person simply doesn’t get the button.
Projects, tasks, calendar and the pipeline in one place. At a glance: what’s moving, what’s stuck, and who it’s sitting with. Usually them.
Raise it against the work, send it, and see who hasn’t paid without opening anything else. It bills — it isn’t your accountant, and it won’t pretend to be.
Your logo, your colours, your domain. When your client signs in, nothing on the screen mentions us. As far as they know, you built it. We’re fine with that.
Thirty years of judgement about which parts fail and which customer will wait — none of it typed anywhere. This shows you, before he goes, which accounts and jobs have only his name on them. On the day he gives notice, one click reads back every customer, job and approval that was his, marks what nobody else has touched, and hands you the specific questions to ask while you still can. Records only — it doesn’t go near anyone’s email.
Backed up nightly, and the backup is read back to check it actually restores — an unread backup is a hope, not a backup. Any client’s records export to a plain file on request. Nothing about this holds you hostage.
Everything above is the half your clients touch. This is the half you get, and we're not charging extra for any of it — you don't have to use a single screen on day one.
Your accounts system knows what you billed. This one knows what they agreed to.
Not "onboarding". Not a "discovery phase". A week, with your actual work in it at the end.
How you really work — your stages, your roles, who is allowed to approve what. Bring a job that went sideways. Everyone has one.
Your instance, your subdomain, your logo and colours. On accounts opened in your name.
Live clients, live jobs, the invoices you’re still chasing. No blank screens, no sample data.
An hour together. If it needs a training course, it’s built wrong.
Two or three to start. The first decision that lands in the portal instead of your inbox pays for the week.
The accounts are yours. Your domain, your hosting, your database — all opened in your name, on your card, on day one. Runs about $40–50 a month, paid straight to them, no markup from us.
Which means there is no switch we can flip. If you sack us on a Wednesday, nothing turns off. You keep the system, the data and the logins, and we hand over a runbook so any competent developer can pick it up.
The whole week below, your branding, your real work loaded in. Then pick a support option — or don't.
Same week, same result, no strings attached to the end of it.
It's yours, it's running, we're done. Genuinely a fine choice.
The sensible middle. Email support, one business day, Monday to Friday.
On top of the care plan, when you want the thing itself changed.
For scale: a custom-built client portal runs $25,000–$60,000 and takes six months. We're the other option.
Which customer always returns kit late, which unit needs the seal checked, which account you never chase on a Friday. All of it in one head, none of it in a file.
Mark someone as leaving and it reads their customers, jobs, approvals and open work, and assembles the role from records you already keep.
“Six accounts have nobody on them but him.” That’s a fixable problem with four weeks’ notice and an expensive one without.
The next person gets the accounts, the open approvals and the awkward customers — and knows which of it the system couldn’t tell them.
Kit gets logged out and back.
Knowledge only goes one way.
It reads your customers, jobs, approvals and open work. Not his email, not the depot WhatsApp group. What it can’t see is whatever never got typed anywhere — so it flags what to ask him while he’s still on the payroll.
Every other page you've read today told you what its software does. Here's the other list, because you'd find out in week two anyway and week two is a rotten time to find out.
It isn't a demo call, it's four questions. If it's not a fit we'll say so in the first ten minutes and give you the twenty back.
Satyamkns@gmail.com — a real person, same working day.