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“You could be what we need now,” I say, following suit, and my eyes take in the modern floor of his company, buzzing with employees moving around. It’s alive, and a certain atmosphere hangs in the air. One where the employees are hungry to learn and talk about how to achieve their goals while sipping their coffee.
On the way to the boardroom, multiple people greet my dad, and he politely returns their greeting.
He’s the big man, and he walks through the halls with a skip in his step and his shoulders pushed back.
“I don’t have it in me, Chester,” he finally responds in a firm voice, and I frown at him because I don’t even recognize the man in front of me.
A weight seems to have been lifted off his shoulders and, in his place, stands a man who belongs here. He carries himself in a way I’ve never seen before. There’s light in his eyes and an urge to move on and tackle his work.
At home, he’s silent with his shoulders slumped down and his eyes empty. But this is thrilling to him, and I frown when I see a completely different man.
He stops in the middle of the hallway and turns my way. I look up at him, and this time, I see my future. Or at least the side he now shows me.
His curly hair hits his jawline, but it’s darker than mine. My dad is tall with broad shoulders, and one day, I’ll fill a suit just like him.
“I love you, Chester, but this is where I belong. This is what I like. The smell of learning. The thrill of moving forward and reaching for the impossible,” he says, motioning with his hand to the area around him.
I hear the pride in his voice. The love he has for something he worked so hard on. He’s a big name in the reselling business. My dad buys small companies at the brink of financial ruin before breathing life into them again, only to resell them later.
“I’m making mistakes. I’ll make them for the rest of my life and I'm a horrible dad because I’m not able to give what you need. But let me show you something we can share and love together,” he states, grabbing my shoulders, and I see the joy in his eyes. He leans down with a smile on his lips.
“You have the same hunger in your eyes as I did at your age. I want to give you your first taste of what it means to run a business and to enjoy the long days and solve the difficult problems, because success is like a drug.” He leads me to the door of the boardroom and then pushes it open.
Multiple men and women are waiting, deep in conversation about money, companies to buy, new strategies, and when their eyes fall on my father, their expressions widen with respect.
“We can’t see eye to eye at home, but let’s see if we can here, Chester.” He squeezes my shoulder, and my body is buzzing with excitement to see eager minds coming together to share ideas, progress and fix bad deals.
For the first time, I feel a connection to my father who has shown me where he comes to life because I thought he was just as bitter at work as he is at home. But this is different to him. Because here, he’s alive with a hunger in his eyes for success and I think mine mirrors his because he smiles at me and nods confidently.
“Mum shouldn’t have called you a lowlife arsehole.” His booming laugh travels through the room, and he closes the door, signalling the beginning of my dream, of my dad and me coming together to reach that intoxicating taste of success.
“Richard, if you could please start with the status of the Byron merger.”
“What we’re looking at is a long road to recovery,” my dad says, pointing at the depressing numbers at the bottom of the screen. Multiple employees and partners nod their head as some sigh and slouch in their chairs.
Dad’s words are less than motivating, but sadly, they’re the harsh truth of the situation we’re in. It doesn’t look promising, but the man in the front of the room conveys optimism rather than defeat.
His eyes meet mine, and I nod to indicate that we have this. This is only a dip, a low point, but it’s not the end. We’ll climb back out of the hole and flourish again.
We’re the Boyds, and nothing stops us from chasing the taste of success.
“We could always open the conversation with Marc Turner. He has bought and sold from us. The trust is there. We could also have another discussion with Scott Jenkins about possible grants.”
“Great idea, Anita,” my dad says, pointing at her with a smile. “But it won’t be enough.” Other ideas are shared around the table, and if we can execute them all, we will likely crawl back to the position we were in before Clairwater worked his dark magic on my company.
Dad lets our CFO take over before dropping down next to me, patting my shoulder with encouragement.
“You disappointed in me?” I ask because those thoughts lie heavy on my heart. He entrusted me with his company a few years ago because he was ready for a new challenge and worked on a start-up.
It was the proudest day of my life when he signed it over and trusted me enough to lead it to higher ground. He believes I am capable of running his million-dollar company.
But I let in Frederic Clairwater and he ruined everything my dad worked so hard to build.
“No. You couldn't have predicted this. No one could have. It’s a shame Clairwater’s son ended up being such a snake, when he could have been a shark dominating the business world.” I nod my head. Frederic’s father was well-known and even did business with my dad. Expectations were high when Frederic approached me to buy into the company, but he proved to be nothing like his father.
“I’ll be even prouder when you get out of this mess,” he says, letting out a deep breath that shows, once again, just how deep we’d sunk.
“Thanks for being here,” I whisper before drinking from my black cup with ‘your logo here’ on it. He gave it to me on my first day of work. He thought it was hilarious to keep the generic text on it.
