I groan, leaning my head against the couch. “Hit me where I’m weakest!”
Nadine laughs. “You need to be pushed here, though. How long have you worked on your business plan? Perfecting names, logos? You even have paperwork filed you haven’t sent in yet!”
“It’s too big of a risk. I need to have a job at the same time, or I could lose everything,all the money I’ve saved. You know most new business ventures fail.”
“But some don’t, Cece. If anyone’s going to make it work, it would be you.”
“You have too much faith in me.”
“No, you have too little. Now’s the time. Besides, you’d also be working for yourself, not Victor St. Clair. How ironic is it that he has the wordsaintin his name?”
I snort. “Very.”
She nudges me with her knee. “So, you’re not going to marry him. But take the opportunity to leave your job, at least. In six months’ time, I want to see you as the CEO of your very own virtual assistant firm.”
“I have learned a lot, working for Exciteur,” I admit. “I’ve even learned a lot from Victor St. Clair.”
“Great! Take that and run. You don’t owe the man anything.”
I smile, looking down at my nails. “Will you help me design my graphics?”
“Of course I will! You know it’ll be a success. Your vision is too good not to be.”
“Thank you,” I say. Truth is, I have full faith in the idea itself. A company where people can purchase tasks is brilliant. Need your plane tickets booked? Send the info to us and we’ll do it for you. Need to research the best dog grooming business in Seattle? We’ll send you an itemized list in an hour. Need to negotiate with your cable company? We’ll handle the phone call.
Clients could have a subscription or pay one-off fees. It’s convenient for them, and it’s convenient for me and my imagined hires, who could be located all around the country.
People like me who love organization and research.
Clients who have too little time and too many tasks.
The idea itself is sound. It’s the execution I’m afraid of messing up, because if I’ve learned one thing from my time as an assistant, it’s that business rarely runs smoothly.
Nadine and I spend the rest of the afternoon lazing about before we get ready for the evening. With her, there’s no telling where a night out will end, so I’ve given up planning. I put on a short black skirt, tuck a silk blouse into it and run a brush through my brown curls.
“Winged eyeliner!” Nadine calls. She’s doing her makeup in my living room, sprawled on the couch.
“Yes, Mom!” I call back, but I do as she says, and the effect is striking. She’d helped me perfect the technique a few months ago and since then it's been my go-to going out look, making my green eyes pop.
“Can you imagine?” I call. “I received my first proposal today. I feel like a character in a Jane Austen novel. Turning down unwelcome proposals of marriage!”
Nadine pops her head into my bathroom.“Yes. And then, just like a Jane Austen protagonist, you’re going out to down martinis at Temple.”
“Practically afternoon tea, my dear.”
“Think your suitor will come calling?” She bats long eyelashes. “Leave his calling card?”
“If that’s his business card, I don’t want it.”
She disappears back toward my couch. Our dresses are laid out on my single bed, wedged in the corner of my tiny apartment. I return to my makeup. We work in silence for a few minutes.
“Oh my God. Cecilia. Oh my God!”
“What?” I peek out of the bathroom, only to see her standing in her underwear by the bed, her phone in hand.
“I just got an email from the Francis Hunt Gallery. They’re inviting me to exhibit with them!”
“Nadine, that’s amazing! Are you serious?”