Page 51 of Give Me Forever

Over the next few days, I worked tirelessly on the presentation. I kept working on Fiverr gigs on the side. It wasn’t terribly exciting. People asked for basic logo designs, but that was fine by me.

I also spent more time than I should on my would-be Etsy store, discovering keywords to improve algorithms, making my products easy for customers to find, and designing more merchandise. I was getting ahead of myself—deep down, I knew that. Even quick-production batches could take up to a few months. But I was determined to be positive about this.

I made sure every detail was perfect in the presentation.

I’d drawn up several of these over the course of my business, and I was confident I was doing a good job. My sister, Jamie, offered to take a look at it as well, and on Wednesday at 7:00 a.m., I was waiting on pins and needles for her answer.

Her email came in at 7:05 a.m. I was supposed to send it to Jack at nine o'clock.

Jamie: You’re a pro. The numbers look good. Go get him!

Avery: Thanks, Jamie.

I emailed Jack the next second. From that point on, I pretended to work on more designs, but honestly, I couldn’t really focus.

At 11:00 a.m., he replied, asking if we could chat at 6:00 p.m. my time.Crap. Seven more hours of biting my nails was going to be the end of me, but there wasn’t anything I could do, so I agreed. Then I messaged Sam to let him know, just in case he wanted to come home in the meantime.

Avery: I’m talking to Jack at 6 p.m. Do you mind if I do it from the living room? The internet connection is better.

Sam: I don’t mind at all. Good luck! By the way, after that, you’re mine for the rest of the evening.

Avery: ???

Sam: That’s right. I promised to behave until today. Time’s up.

I was completely giddy, and for a few seconds, I even forgot all about my nerves.

Avery: Okay. Game on.

I wanted to celebrate tonight, but I was afraid of making any plans until after I spoke to Jack. But he wouldn’t have suggested a call if he didn’t like what I sent him, right?

At ten to six, I paced the living room, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach.

At six on the dot, I clicked the Zoom link he sent me.

Jack was in his late fifties, possibly early sixties, with dark brown hair cropped short.

“Avery,” he said curtly. His background was a sterile white office with a cactus in the corner.

“Hi, Jack. Nice to meet you.”

“I’ve looked over your presentation.”

Straight to the point—I could get used to it.

“Do you have questions?” I asked.

“No. Look, I didn’t want to cancel this because we'd already set it up.”

My stomach plummeted.

“I googled your previous company," he continued. "You’ve got a bad rep since you still haven’t paid Austin Production what you owe them.”

I took in a deep breath. That wasn’t readily available information, but with a bit of digging, anyone could find it out. He might not be a man of pleasantries, but Jack did his homework, and I respected that.

“Jack, I’ll be honest. I’m still working on paying that off. But in order to do it, I need to be able to sell more products. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m blaming someone else, but my previous business partner embezzled funds.”

“Then you have a legal case against them.”

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