Page 80 of The Amazing Date

“Not to derail the meeting, but Rylee, why don’t you give Sylvie the thirty-thousand-foot view of the plan.” Zion pulls the room’s attention back to me, and I’m not sure whether I’m grateful or upset. He’s pressing my buttons, knowing good and well that I have no plan.

But this is the new me. “All my life I’ve fought for my parents’ attention.” I’m not sure where the words came from. I feel the shift of mood in the room. I ignore the furrowed brow from Garrett and focus on Sylvie, who leans back in her chair, fully immersed.

“At first I thought I’d focus on grades. Became an A student, honor roll, teacher’s pet, you name it. They took those accomplishments to mean I was self-sufficient and didn’t need them. While I was in study groups, they went out to our favorite restaurants without me. When I took research trips with classmates, they took time to throw a dart at the map and visit a random city. I was accomplished but not fulfilled.”

I fight through my truths, hoping to stay in control. I see water well up in Zion’s eye, an unknown part of me revealed to a man I’ve worked with for years.

“Your parents probably crossed paths with mine at those restaurants.” Sylvie’s dry laugh pulls me back, and our gazes lock, a mutual understanding between us.

“When I got to college, I decided to change tactics. I still got my work done, but I acted out. If I wanted something, I went after it. I went in search of fulfillment and my happiness and wasn’t going to let anything get in the way. I thought my recklessness and failures would make them step up. They only took the opportunity to step back.

“After every one of my transgressions, they handed me off to a professional. I tell them I’m depressed; they send me to a psychologist. I tell them I’d love to join them on an excursion in the wilderness, and they send me away to camp. I throw a temper tantrum in the school library, and they make a large donation.”

“You should have told them you were broke.” Zion’s comment causes a wave of laughs from the room. That is, from everyone but Kira.

“It took me a while to figure it all out, and in many ways, I’m still trying to, but I realized I own my own happiness. I get to chase my own dreams. I get to find joy and happiness chasing my passions in my own unique way. I can’t follow a template or a checklist that may work for someone else. That’s not me. It’ll never bring me joy and happiness. For me, it’s about being free, creative, impulsive, and taking risks.” I have the attention of every person in the room and know I must deliver.

“For the last week, ever since it was announced we’d be working with the distinguished Claire Ballet Company, I’ve thought about the prestige, the reputation of the company. Kira and Hans”—I wave a hand toward the end of the table—“are two of our most talented team members, and I’m sure they will walk you through some very well done written-to-market pitches.” Kira nods and taps the edge of her keyboard as if she is ready to present.

“But something tells me that’s not why you took a chance on a small agency like ours. Any of the big five could put out professionally developed packages that maintain the same brand equity of the Claire School. You are seeking something different, unique. Something that speaks to you, your passion, and your view of the company.”

The corners of Sylvie’s lips tick up. “Garrett, I like this one,” she says in his direction.

“I knew you would,” Garrett returns, ignoring Kira’s glare.

“Zion and I have been working on an idea. It’s still in the early formative stages, but trust us. We present to you the new Claire Ballet Company, not your parents’ ballet company.”

I don’t bother to see Sylvie’s reaction; I’m more interested in Zion’s. A unique only-Zion twinkle flashes across his eye, and I present my palm in his direction.

He rises, a prideful look on his face. I hope he can sense the trust I have in him. I don’t need to control this vision; I don’t need to build out a thousand-line project plan and bark orders to him. He’s my creative partner, and it’s time I learn to treat him like one.

“Imagine this,” Zion begins, stretching his arms out to the horizon. “A young ballerina in the back of a traditional ballet class. Leg stretched across a barre, arms raised. The instructor behind her guiding her posture. A look of boredom on her face. Cut to the student exiting the class, stuffing her pointe shoes in her duffel, racing out the building to the nearest trash can, ready to drop her shoes in.”

Zion pauses to let the vision lie in the room. He nods at me, offering me a chance to weigh in. I take it.

“A fast-paced piano medley plays in the background, the ballerina turning toward the sound. Across the street in the park is a group of people her age dancing. Not any dance but ballet. On the street, out in the open. Smiles on their faces, kicking high in the air as the ballet mistress dances alongside them. Not prodding them like cattle but dancing beside them with a smile on her face. They are freestyling in nature and enjoying it.”

“And it’s not just the park,” Zion piles on, “because this is not your daddy’s ballet. Cut to the streets of Harlem, Marcus Garvey Park.”

“Cut to the flower fields at Mount Rainier in Seattle.” Joy spreads through me as I picture me and Roberto there. “Chinatown in San Francisco.”

Zion steals a glance out the conference window, his eyes capturing something in the distance. “And the top of the Empire State Building, the majesty of Manhattan behind the dancers,” Zion says as shock hits me.

I beam with joy, picking up his beat like two jazz band members riffing. “Even the Empire State Building. There’s nowhere in the world you can’t take your passion. Your joy. Welcome to the new Claire Ballet Company. It’s not your parents’ ballet company.”

Sylvie leaps to her feet, clapping. Her team follows suit. “I. Love. It,” she chants. “Garrett, this is exactly what I was looking for. I didn’t know exactly what but trusted my instincts I’d know it when I saw it. This is exactly the vision I’ve had. Make ballet more accessible. It’s not just for performance. It’s a healthy lifestyle choice and should be as easily accessible as yoga or running. It needs to come out of the stuffy, expensive studio to the people. I want to see seniors doing ballet. I want people to start their day off with fifteen-minute fitness programs. I want physical therapists to incorporate it into their recovery programs. I finally feel seen. Thank you.”

Garrett rubs his hands against one another, and I hold my breath. “I promised you the best, and you have it.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smirk. Zion doesn’t even attempt to control his. We slide back down into our seats.

“Terrific,” I say as all eyes turn to me. “I’ll leave you to Kira to have her walk you through the rest of her presentation.”

Sylvie nods. “Okay, but I’d like to drill down further into the not-your-parents’-ballet concept. Can we carve some time right after?”

I shoot a gaze in Garrett’s direction, expecting him to weigh in. When he doesn’t, I follow my gut. “Technically, my plate is full on other accounts. Zion and I were only given the stealth assignment. Kira is your”—I raise my fingers to form air quotes—“official account manager.”

I begin to rise, and Sylvie turns to Garrett. “Is this true, Garrett? I want this team working on my account.”

---