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 accountants, consultants and advisory firms
The deadline is Friday. You still don’t have the bank statements, the engagement letter came back unsigned, and somewhere in a thread from March is the version they say they approved. None of this is your fault, and all of it is your problem.
↑ Four people at one client. Only Margaret can sign. The system knows that. Email doesn’t.
It’s recorded against that exact document, with her name, the date and an audit trail nobody can edit afterwards. When a query comes back in eighteen months, you have an answer rather than a search.
Live in five days · no per-seat pricing · the accounts are in your name from day one
Six weeks before the deadline. This is where the hours go, and none of them are billable:
↑ Eight weeks. Four chasing emails. The deadline has not moved.
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 client help themselves. So they ask 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.
Client-specific handling is the whole job — who signs, what they always forget, why that file is treated differently. It sits with one person until they resign. This gives you a standing list of which clients have exactly one name against them, and on the day notice is given, one click reads back every client, matter and deadline that was theirs, flags what nobody else has worked on, and gives you the questions to ask before the last day. It reads your practice records, not their inbox.
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.
Practice software bills the time. This one shows the client why.
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.
Twenty years of “ring me before you file that” and “she prefers the call on a Tuesday”. The engagement letter transfers. The relationship doesn’t.
Mark someone as leaving and it reads their clients, engagements, tasks and pipeline, and reconstructs the role from what the practice already records.
“Nine clients have a single named contact.” In a practice, that’s not an operations problem, it’s a retention one.
Whoever inherits the book gets the clients, the live engagements and the deadlines — and a list of what the records cannot explain.
Clients don’t leave with the file.
They leave with the person.
It reads your clients, engagements, tasks and pipeline. Not their inbox, not their calendar, not what was said at lunch. What it can’t see is whatever never got typed anywhere — so it tells you what to ask before the notice period runs out.
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.