I can’t.
It’s finally crystal clear what I should’ve been doing this whole time.
I have to find an investor for my chocolate business. Someonenotrelated to me or with ties to my family so that I can finally be free.
And I need to do it yesterday.
Chapter 6
Tavi
Saturday morning, I’m back to my usual self.
Ha.
Not even.
I’mphysicallysort of okay—I managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour last night, partly because I was afraid Lola would follow me if I went where I wanted to go—but mentally?
Mentally, I’m trying to find something positive about my life on a long run before the sun and the bugs are up. And that positive is checking in with Naomi, hoping for more good news. I dial her once I’m fully awake.
“First things first,” she says. “Please don’t kill Lola Minelli, because I need you here and not in jail, okay?”
“I’m not going to murder Lola Minelli.” I pull a face in the dim light off the setting moon as I loop the far side of Deer Drop Lake, which separates Tickled Pink from their rival town. She’s connected through the Bluetooth earbud that I usually hide in the basement of a local closed-up church, along with all my other secret kitchen equipment. “Maybe my grandmother for inviting her, but not Lola.”
“Don’t murder your grandmother either. But speaking of awful things, our taste testers confirmed that we should not, in fact, put oregano in any chocolatesever.”
“Good to know. I got your last package but also the note that you had to go beg beans off a different farm. What’s up with that?” Since I arrived in Tickled Pink, Naomi has shipped me beans and sometimes processed chocolate in boxes disguised to look like subscription boxes and influencer swag packs so that I can continue to develop truffle recipes for our taste testers while we finally work on that business plan that’ll make our farm and chocolate business profitable.
I don disguises and occasionally dash over to the Deer Drop post office to mail back samples for her.
“All the staff at the farm we usually use would say is that they had an ‘issue with harvesting,’” she says. “Sebastián heard a rumor that the owners might be looking at selling. And that would beprimereal estate,withproductive trees. Productiveorganictrees, Tavi. We seriously need to talk about this plan you have for getting investors.”
“Working on it.”
“I’m equal parts desperate to expand and launch and get profitable and also scared that all of this is a terrible idea. The chocolate market is crowded. It’s a boutique internet world now, and if we want to stand out, then we have to be unique, and I don’t know thatwe’re rebuilding a community through love and chocolateis unique enough.”
“It’s not like everyone’s doing it.”
“Enough other people are, though. Some with pretty big platforms. And I shouldn’t question your marketing skills. I really shouldn’t. But ‘we’ll get a social media influencer to sell the product’? That’s not enough, especially when you can’t do it yourself. We need a marketingbudget. We need a plan. We need you to sleep so your brain can work, because I know you know this stuff.I’m a computer engineer from Nebraska.I’m not a business-savvy chocolate goddess who can see howwe can make an affordable offer on the farm next door when we don’t have any income or prospects for income. That’syou.”
And once again, I realize just how dumb this whole plan was.
I’m not business savvy.
I’m not even a chocolate goddess.
I’m simply working with whatfeelsgood and slowly realizing that I’m a pampered, spoiled brat who’s never been told no, and now that I have, I can’t make it on my own.
I’ve lived in a bubble.
A privileged, safe, never-wanting-for-anything-that-could-be-bought-with-money bubble.
Even failing as an influencer isn’t a big deal.
For one, no one knows I’m a failure. Ilookgood, thanks to good photographers and makeup artists and a travel budget, and Idomake money, but after expenses and other commitments, it’s not enough to keep the farm running.
Until Gigi choked on that piece of steak, it didn’t matter. I had my trust fund to use for my favorite projects. But now, all I have is my influencer salary, and guilt won’t let me stop sending my regular donations around the world to support schools, shelters, and medical clinics.
