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 design studios who have rebuilt work they already delivered
Somebody junior said “yeah, looks great, ship it” in an email thread. So you shipped it. Three weeks later the person who actually holds the budget takes one look and asks “who approved this?” — and you rebuild it. For free. Again.
↑ Four people at the same client. Everyone can talk. One person can say yes.
It’s stamped with his name and the date, against that exact version, in a place nobody can quietly edit later. “I never approved that” stops being a conversation you can lose.
Live in five days · no per-seat pricing · the accounts are in your name from day one
The other half of the problem. Eleven days, five emails, and not one decision:
↑ Eleven days. Nobody approved anything. Nobody got invoiced.
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.
Not one of them lets the client in. So the client comes to you.
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.
Two weeks later somebody asks who was handling the Thornbury account and the room goes quiet. This gives you a standing list of who’s the only person touching something — read it any month, nobody has to be leaving. When one of them does resign, one click reads back every client, project and pitch that was theirs, marks what has no second name on it, and hands you the questions worth asking before their last day. It reads your work 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.
Most studio tools stop at the to-do list. This one knows what you’re owed.
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.
A designer hands in their notice and takes eleven years of “oh, they always want it in Pantone” with them. Not the files — those you have. The other stuff.
You mark someone as leaving. It reads their clients, projects, tasks and pitches, and assembles what they were actually carrying — before you’ve asked them a single question.
“Three projects have nobody on them but her.” That’s the sentence you want six weeks before the last day, not on it.
Whoever takes over gets what the role held and where the gaps are — and can ask questions about it in plain English instead of reading a spreadsheet.
Notice periods are thirty days.
Most handovers start on day twenty-six.
It reads your clients, projects, tasks and pitches. Not their email, not their chat, not their Dropbox. What it can’t see is whatever never got typed anywhere — so it tells you which questions to ask them while they’re still here.
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.