"Actually, Mr. Davis, I regret to inform you that my father has passed away. That said, Nails R Us remains in full operation, and I can assure you that I will be able to handle the construction of this magnitude."
"You. You alone? Or do you mean you and your team?"
"I, ah, do have a small team," she said.
A bit of a stretch. There had been, over the years, some high school boys who would help with manual labor at times, but there wasn't anyone strictly on the books as a formal team.
"Who is in charge?"
"The business is now mine," Beverly said, lifting her chin.
He grunted.
"If you would be willing to give me a tour of what needs to be done," she said, "I would love to hear it. I have my father's notes from when he spoke with you, but—"
Mr. Davis cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I'm sorry, Miss Young, but I'm afraid this is not the right fit for us. What with your father just recently passing away and all, it would be too much of a strain for a young girl like you to deal with such a large-scale project, especially without an experienced team to back you up." He gave her an apologetic smile before he turned to walk away, leaving Beverly stunned in the middle of the room as she watched him go.
Beverly's heart sank. She had hoped that she could prove herself capable of handling the project, despite being new to handling the entire business all by herself, but instead it seemed she was doomed from the start before she even stepped foot in the door.
Truly, she had been so sure that she could prove herself and show just how capable she was of managing things, but it seemed like Mr. Davis wouldn't even give her a chance.
She nodded in understanding. "Very well. Have a good day, Mr. Davis," she said.
Beverly turned around and left the building as quickly as possible with what little pride she had left intact.
She shut her car door and let out a scream of frustration that did little to make her feel any better.
Naturally, she had turned her phone on silent before she had entered the building for the meeting. She grabbed it and spied two missed calls. Neither had left voicemails.
Beverly called the first number. "Hello, this is Beverly Young of Nails R Us. This number called me earlier?"
"Oh, hi, yes. I'm trying to reach Brandon Young."
Beverly squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she should make some kind of announcement, but she didn't know if she could handle that emotionally.
"I'm afraid Brandon Young has passed away," she murmured, "but I am his daughter, Beverly, and I can assure you that Nails R Us is still in operation for all of your construction needs. What precisely do you need?"
"This is Gus Grantler."
She sucked in a breath. Her father had worked for Gus before, back when Beverly had been in high school. It had been a job during the school year, so Beverly hadn't been able to help very much.
"Sir, let me assure you that I—"
"Your father must have passed recently."
She winced. "Yes, Sir. A few weeks ago."
"I'm sorry for your loss, but I cannot hire you for this project."
She blinked solemnly and held as still as a statue.
"Your father was very highly respected in this community, and I hate to say no to his daughter, but I have to be sure that whoever is doing this job can get it done right without any issues or delays. Maybe come back when you're a bit more established."
"Mr. Grantler, perhaps you don't realize this, but I have been an equal partner with my father in this business for years. I am more than capable of handling any job without issue or delay."
"The scope of this job requires more than one person."
"I can find others—"