“Tell me more, Mistee.” I run my fingers through my hair, gathering it together and tying it in a messy top knot with one of the many stretchy crystal bracelets from around my wrist.
My biggest cheerleader then shares her ideas of what our conference facility could look like. It’s not only a brilliant proposal but also a way to generate income on days with no bookings by renting it out for events we don’t organize ourselves, like weddings on weekends, sweet sixteens, quinceañeras, parties, and even proms.
“We would need to hire more staff,” I say enthusiastically, as warmth rushes through my sacral chakra—the one in my lower abdomen—tingling as it opens and pulsing with a heightened sense of creativity. It feels right. Aligned.
Mistee adds, jumping on the fun bus with me, “We’d hire a team dedicated just to the venue to oversee bookings, insurance, logistics, catering…”
I interject, already making up my mind. “Let’s do it.” I have money. Lots of it to invest in the business. Since I started my little business fresh out of college thirteen years ago, it’s grown exponentially. While I might have told Eli my recommended vacation dose is three times a year, I’ve been so busy I haven’t taken one myself in two years.
I bought a super-fancy house in Pacific Heights after reaching a big income goal. That’s about it.
“It’s time to level up.” I feel giddy about this; it feels right.
“Are your chakras aligning on this one?”
“You betcha.” My skin is practically humming with glee like a happy hummingbird. “I need an assistant.”
“Yes. It’s about time.” She claps her hands together in applause.
I sit forward and smile in wonder at the full calendar we have for the rest of the year, feeling grateful for our success. “Where the hell am I slotting in the construction?”
“That’s what your assistant is for. Have them handle the time-consuming tasks so you can concentrate on customer relations and hosting events, and I recommend you hire a project manager for the build, too.”
I already feel lighter. “I agree.” It’s time to delegate, and I’ve been contemplating another idea for a while, so I ask, “How would you feel about becoming a business partner, Mistee?” I’m already confident I know what her response will be. I’ve wanted to ask her for some time, but I waited until her divorce was finalized. She wasn’t ready then, but she is now; I can tell. The timing is perfect for both of us, and the business has grown too large for me to manage alone. Together, we could be unstoppable.
She raises her eyebrows high in a mix of shock and surprise. “You’re kidding?”
I don’t make jokes in high-stakes business decisions. “Nope.”
Mistee doesn’t answer right away; instead, she fills my Solo cup to the brim with wine, then her own, finishing the bottle we shared. “Count me in.” She lifts her cup in the air. “Here’s to something new.”
“You’re in?” I ask with a smile.
Beaming with excitement, she nods eagerly.
“To something new.” I lift my plastic cup and tap hers with mine, and together we smile against the lip of our cups as we take a swig, then we’re hugging each other, squeezing and holding on to one another, knowing this is the best decision we’ve ever made.
“Thank you, Sapphire,” Mistee says, her voice thick with emotion as we back out of our embrace and we take another drink of our much-deserved wine.
I welcome the gentle buzz from the alcohol as it fully hits my bloodstream, relaxing the muscles in my neck that could use a massage.
“We need to hire a lawyer to assist us bringing you in as a partner. For contracts, financials, get the legal stuff sorted,” I explain.
“You could ask Eli Hart,” Mistee suggests, turning in her seat then resting her feet on the chair next to her.
“Pft,” I scoff dismissively, remembering the way I told him to shove his staff conference up his ass yesterday. How unprofessional of me. “He brings out the worst in me.”
“He makes you blush.”
“He does not,” I admonish a little too harshly.
“You’re blushing.”
I place the palm of my hand against my face and then my neck. “It’s the alcohol.”
“You’re lying.” Her voice sounds like she’s singing with glee, enjoying every minute of making me squirm.
I slap my palm against my forehead. “I dreamed about him the other night.” I’ve had several but I don’t tell her that revealing piece of information.
