“We scraped by until I could graduate. There was no reason for me to throw away my last semester, so I buckled down and finished it. The town rallied around us, donating to help with the medical bills that we were racking up quickly. We had to close the bakery a few days a week, as I just couldn’t keep it functioning, attend class, and stay current on my homework.”
“Sounds like a crazy time,” I add.
“It was a stressful time, that’s for sure,” she states. “Once I graduated and could focus all my time on the business, I did just that. We hired a couple part-time employees to help out, and I jumped in feet first. That first year was a struggle, at times, as I learned the true workings of a business. I hated having to call my dad for help, knowing that he was stressed over helping my mom, but we made it through. After running everything and doing a pretty kick-ass job at it, if I do say so myself, I wrote up a proposal and gave it to my dad, offering to buy the business from them. I got a small business loan, and the rest is history. All the staples are my grandmother’s original recipes, and they’ll never change. It’s also nice to offer some new things that fit with the current trends. I have a lot of fun experimenting with new recipes to offer.”
“Everything I’ve tasted so far has been excellent.”
“Thanks,” she says, and her phone chimes. “Dinner is here,” she says as she stands and heads inside to answer the door. I follow behind, helping with the bags from the delivery driver. I hand him a twenty before he takes off. We carry the food into the kitchen. I unpack the bags as Harper grabs two plates and silverware for us.
“Figured we could plate up in here and take it back outside,” she suggests, handing a plate to me.
“Works for me,” I tell her as I fill my plate up.
“Do you need another beer?” she asks, topping off her glass of wine.
“I’d better not; I still need to deal with the truck issue after we eat,” I remind her.
“Of course,” she agrees. “Do you want something else? Water, or I might have some pop in the garage.”
“I’m good for now; I’ll grab some water later.”
“Okay,” she says, and I follow her back outside. We tuck into our food, both of us obviously hungry.
6
Harper
“Damn, that was good,”Nathan says, setting his plate on the ground next to him.
“It’s the best,” I agree with him, finishing up my own plate of takeout. “Did you get enough?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m stuffed,” he says, patting his flat stomach. I can only imagine how rigid it is. From what I can see, with what his clothes cover, he’s very well defined. Probably spends hours a week in the gym to keep it up. I wouldn’t mind getting my eyes and hands on what he’s hiding behind his shirt, but that’s just my hormones talking. “I’m going to grab some water; do you need anything?” he offers.
“I’m good, thanks.” He grabs our plates, taking them with him as he heads inside, returning just a minute or so later with a glass of ice water. I watch as he sits back down, admiring how his muscles flex with every movement he makes. “So, tell me about your business; I know the basics, and how you created some fancy app that made you into an overnight fancy-pants millionaire, but tell me more than the cover page highlights.”
“Billionaire,” he says, smirking at me. “It made me an overnight billionaire, not to play the semantics game.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. How could I forget the extra zeros?” I ask, rolling my eyes a bit dramatically.
“It’s easy to do.” He shrugs like it is really that easy to mistake a billionaire for a millionaire. “But to get into things, I met my best friend, Leo, at freshman orientation. We hit it off instantly, becoming fast friends. I told him my idea, and we worked together every day, when we weren’t in class, on the code. We worked on it for months, tweaking things every day, trying to make it into the best app possible. One of my professors had an in with some of the big tech companies and was able to get us in for a pitch meeting. We left the first pitch with an offer in hand and, by the end of the week, had offers from multiple companies. Leo and I about shit bricks as we started breaking down all the terms of the offers. We knew we had something special, but we didn’t realize just how special until that week. We’d kept our plans pretty close to the vest, doing our best to keep things under wraps. We didn’t want that kind of news spreading across campus, then we’d be bombarded.”
“What happened next?” I ask.
“With the offers in hand, we quickly found an attorney to help us with the contracts. My mom suggested we also hire a financial advisor, so we found one of those to add to our team. After our attorney looked at the offers, he immediately advised us to decline three of them. The terms were horrible, and they tried to include clauses that gave them access to anything new we created. The other two were solid offers, and we went into negotiations. Our attorney did all of the negotiations for us, and the two companies basically went into a bidding war. We actually ended up taking the deal with a smaller payment, because it had better long-term benefits. Leo and I knew that it wasn’t all about the up-front money. Royalties that last years can be very profitable, so that’s what we went with. Fifteen days after we had a signed contract, the transaction was finalized and we both were sitting on more money than we’d ever know what to do with.”
“What a crazy experience.”
“It was a ride, that’s for sure,” he agrees. “We both decided to drop out of school after that semester ended. We had companies reaching out to us to work on apps for them, offers to join companies in their development departments. But after lots of conversations, we decided to go into business together. We’d worked so well together when we were nothing but two broke college students, now that we had the money to bankroll our dreams, we took life by the horns and never looked back. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve hit some bumps in the road. Had projects that bombed and cost us lots of money, but it’s all trial and error sometimes, in our business. You won’t ever succeed if you don’t take risks.”
“Isn’t that the truth. I still look back at the early days of taking over the bakery and wonder how I did it all,” I confess.
“Was the reward worth the risk?” he asks.
“It was. It might have taken me a while to realize that, but I don’t think I’d change anything if I could. I mean, except for my mom’s stroke, and subsequent health issues, which have stemmed from that. And I realize it’s an oxymoron, because if it weren’t for my mom’s stroke, I wouldn’t have taken over the bakery when I did, hell, I probably still wouldn’t own it if she were healthy today.”
“It’s okay to want both. Your mom to be healthy, but also to have the bakery and the success that you’ve made of it.”
“Thanks, I just feel guilty sometimes because of it. Like, how can I be happy that I have this successful part of my life, but only because my mom had a tragedy.”