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Since Virginia has asked everyone in the house to respect a digital sunset by eight p.m., our evenings are filled with board games, card games, and so much laughter, I don’t miss my abs workout bench at all.
By ten thirty, we’re in bed. Virginia and I take turns reading to each other. I don’t remember being read to as a child, but Mom insists she did and that it was my favorite time of day. I don’t doubt it since nothing beats the quiet, focused attention.
As for work, Virginia has hired a new contract employee to take on her role in my building and needs to be in the city once a week to visit Mr. Bernard and his greenhouse. I arrange my in-person meetings on the same day so we commute in together, drop her off in the British Properties (so nobody from the office sees “Mr. Colt” with Will’s woman), and then Aziz meets her there and brings her back to Lily Valley when her work is done.
At least, until three days ago, last Thursday, and the Vancouver delivery of the Come Into Power seminar, which I led with Aiden and some appearances from Horse.
The tour has wrapped up without one request for a refund. A first since I’ve never gone an entire season without pissing off at least one person. Even better, Horse and Aiden’s combined energy on stage has increased our applications into the executive coaching program by ten percent—and when you’re dealing in hundreds of millions of dollars, those small percentages make a big impact on the bottom line.
The nonfamily board members are happy, and that makes me happy since, even though we came clean and admitted the ruse we’d played on over 50,000 paying clients, I’ve got everyone’s unanimous blessing to retire as the face of the company.
Virginia’s been front row-center in the seminar all weekend, encouraging me with her unfaltering support and smile. And today, in the last coaching session, I have a surprise I’ve been dying to tell her about.
Horse and Aiden finish their motivational cheerleading to loud applause from 1300 entrepreneurs. I jog onstage and high-five my brothers.
“Give it up for Fire Power, a.k.a. Aiden,” I yell.
Cheers rise and a woman’s voice carries over the crowd. “I love you, Aiden!”
Aiden blows kisses toward the audience.
“And for Colt, who we all know and love as Horse Power!”
The applause increases. My brothers bow and step off the stage. The cacophony quiets.
“For anyone who’s ever been to a Come Into Power seminar before, you know that this delivery was different from previous years.”
A chorus of voices, overlapping one another, fills the air: “It was amazing!” “Best ever!” “I want more!”
“What you might not know is that this is my last time onstage.” I hold up my hand to stop the chatter so I can continue. “That means this will be my very last public coaching session. The person who is called up next will be part of Power family history.”
A dozen or more men stand, ready to storm the stage.
“Thank you for your enthusiasm.” I laugh. “But it has been my commitment to ensure the final coachee I bring up is always a female entrepreneur. And today will be no different.” I hold up a finger. “Except for one thing. Today I know exactly who I’m calling on.”
Now a dozen women press their chests forward and lift their chins, virtually vibrating in their seats. Virginia turns to look into the crowd. When she turns back, she’s laughing and gives me a thumbs-up.
When I point at her and say, “Let’s make history together,” her expression changes from delight to “Oh, no you don’t!”
She crosses her arms in front of her green, plant-patterned dress and shakes her loose curls to say no. She looks as wild and gorgeous as the first day we met. Her reaction doesn’t surprise me, so I’m prepared. I wave offstage.
Savannah, Horse, and Aiden walk on, holding sad specimens of potted plants.
“Virginia Beach, founder and owner of The Other Side of the Fence, will you please come to the stage and tell me what this hotel has been doing wrong with these plants?”
She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, but her eyes are laughing as she stands and crosses to the stairs as my brothers and Savi place the plants behind me. My brothers leave.
“Almost ten months ago, I called this entrepreneur to the stage as my last coaching victim of the seminar. She truly was a victim since I gave her the gears in a way I’d never challenged a coachee before. Am I exaggerating?”
Savannah hands Virginia a mic and walks off.
“You really were an asshole,” Virginia says, prompting great laughter.
“I was. It’s true.” I squeeze her hand, then let it go and face the crowd. “And do you know why I was such a jerk? Because in the few minutes she was onstage with me, Virginia ‘Rainforest’ Beach triggered an inner knowing that I’d been ignoring my entire adult life. She touched me, literally and figuratively, and my world collapsed.
“I humiliated her on stage, in front of a thousand people, because I was shit scared of what I felt in those three or four minutes with her. I didn’t want to see what her passion for her tiny business, a business caring for people by caring for their plants, was forcing me to look at.”
I turn to face Virginia. Her eyes are glassy, so I hand her the hanky from my pocket.
