“Of course.” She smiles. “Best of luck.”
With that, I turn and step into the room, met with the faces of six men I don’t recognize. I mean, sure, I think a couple of them have been at my dad’s mixers, but I’m pretty sure all corporate investors look the same.
“Good morning, Miss Farrarah,” the man sitting at the head of the table greets me, his dark eyes opposing his blond hair. “We’re happy you were able to come in so quickly.”
“Of course, it’s my pleasure.” My tone comes out way more confident than I expect it to, and honestly, it serves as just the boost I need.
“We’d love to see what you’re thinking,” he continues, and the other guys nod along, not one of them looking at me with any sort of mocking expression.
I prepared all night for this. I can do this.
I shift into business mode, mimicking the skills I learned from my father. I pass out the brochures, open my laptop, and connect it to the screen. It takes me nearly an hour to walk through the entire proposal, including everything from the start-up and construction costs to the amenities and benefits it would serve to athletes.
And when I finish, I feel breathless and lightheaded. But I think Dom would be proud.
“So.” One of them clears their throat. “What inspired you to come up with this idea?”
“My neighbor plays for the Comets, actually. Dominic Neelson. We were talking about what it’s like for professional athletes to get traded, and the idea was born from there.”
He nods. “And what did he think?”
“He thought it would solve a real problem. And beyond helping with moving logistics, the concept would also benefit new players, who have few connections, to settle in. I want to focus on community, you know? It’s hard to move to the city and find connections. The lifestyle of professional athletes can be isolating.”
“I do agree,” another says. “My nephew recently made it pro with golf. He would love to live in a place like this.”
“Hmm.” A guy wearing glasses looks me over. “Well, I think it’s safe to say we all know who you are.”
Uh oh.
“And your father is one of the most prominent businessmen in the world,” he continues. “Why not have him back your idea?”
Because he just wants me to be content living as a trust fund baby.
But I push that away.
“I’d like to prove that I can do this on my own.” I keep my answer short, choosing not to go into the spiel of what I’ve learned from him.
“And one more thing.” Another guy, the youngest of the group, taps a pen on his notebook. “What about Glow Girl?”
No, no, no…
I suddenly feel like I really might pass out, but I force myself to stay grounded in the thin carpet. “Well…” I take a quiet breath. “It was a really good learning experience. I learned what not to do, and what my strengths and weaknesses were. I think our failures are just as important as our successes … especially when they teach us who we are.”
He nods. “I have to agree with you, Miss Farrarah. I think that all of us have failed miserably before. It’s the lessons we learn in those moments that shape us into the people we become and the businesses we build. What’s important is that we fail forward.”
I could cry at his words. “Absolutely. Yes, sir.”
“We’d like a moment to talk, if that’s okay?” He gives me a smile. “If you’ll just step out, we’ll come get you.”
“Sounds great,” I choke out, giving them all a nod. “Thank you for your time. I really appreciate your consideration.”
They all smile as I gather my things up and slip out of the room. I take a deep, long breath as soon as I’m in the hallway. My head is spinning with the nerves of the proposal, but even if they decline, I’mstillproud of myself.
Thank you, Dom.
I owe him thebiggesthug ever for encouraging me to send that email.
I pull out my phone and open our text thread. His last message was just an airplane emoji, and I start to type out a message to him.
