Page 64 of Boss Lady
There is one last gem I want to leave with you. It has been my north star since my father whispered it in my ear as a six-year-old girl in France, getting on a boat alone, to sail into the unknown. Roughly translated he said, “Have the courage to live a big life even without a safety net.”
In the time I have come to know you, I have learned that when you stumble, Antonia, you get back up again. And again. Please trust me when I say that that is what it takes to stay the course, become your own success, and enjoy a big life. It’s not the safety net of a degree, the support of a husband, children graduating, or the blessings of a couple of self-aggrandizing judges that you need to become the person you are meant to be.
If you are reading this, I have stumbled for my last time, but you have not. Use this money for the Brown Butter, Baby! journey as it stumbles toward triumph. I believe in you, Antonia. I always have. And, if you are up for it, maybe take my grandson along for the ride. I know he wants to join you.
Keep eating that elephant one bite at a time.
All my love and luck,
Sylvia Eisenberg
Tears are rolling down my cheeks, and I wipe my nose on my sleeve before I speak, afraid I will blow a snot bubble in front of Ash. “Did you know about this letter?”
“I did,” is all Ash says in response to the question I can barely choke out. He hands me the box, in exchange for the letter. I carefully untie the lavender ribbon, intending to save it to wrap around my Sharpie, another reminder of my dear, beloved friend. I wiggle off the top of the box and lift out a square carefully wrapped in multiple layers of tissue paper. I let the top and bottom of the box fall to the ground. The tape lifts easily, and I peel back layer after layer until a silver corner peeks out at me, followed by Steve Jobs’s face.
Taking in the photo, Ash explains, “She wanted you to have it.” We both chuckle in unison, the photo of Sylvia Eisenberg and Steve Jobs staring back at me, daring me to believe in myself too.
“She also wanted you to have this.” Ash gently takes the framed photo from my gripped hands, flips it over, and returns it to me. On the back is taped a check, made out to Brown Butter, Baby! for $300,000. The exact amount I sought from the judges onInnovation Nation.
“And you retain one hundred percent ownership.”
“Wait, wait ... What?” Trying to process Mrs. Eisenberg’s generosity, my mouth stumbles over my brain.
“As executor of my grandmother’s will, it took me a bit of time to work through her estate, but this was an amendment she insisted I help her make when she returned from tapingInnovation Nation. When I explained to her why I did what I did, she was not happy with me, but she understood my long-term goal. She was always a visionary.”
I nod in agreement. She was.
“Her plan was to give you the first half after you had picked yourself up from what happened on the show, the second half upon her death.” Ash chokes up, unable to continue. Without hesitation, I grab Ash’s hand and squeeze tight, just as his grandmother had done to comfort me many times before.
“I had to get it to you before the new year,” Ash says, willing himself back into control. “I wanted, no, I needed to make this year right before we both head into the next.”
I, too, understand the need for closure and new beginnings.
“You’ve come a long way from almost dumping my grandmother at my feet at SFO to this.” Ash gestures over my shoulder to the shipping and receiving center set up in my living room. I turn and take it all in myself.
“All thanks to your grandmother, not to you,” I remind Ash, but this time with a flirty tease and a hope he can sense my shift in demeanor. Ash glances over my shoulder again at the Brown Butter,Baby! inventory, and then he looks down at my left hand, clearly checking there is no ring in sight.
“You look like you’re doing all right.”
“I am doing all right,” I assure Ash, because it’s true.
“Where do we go from here?” I question the universe as much as Ash. It still stings that he did not invest in me, but I’m blown away by this gift from my new silent business partner, Sylvia Eisenberg. Women-owned businesses are all the rage right now. “The truth still stands that you chose not to invest in me.”
“That’s because I didn’t want you to need me. I need you to want me,” Ash says with his full chest. “I told you, I’m already invested in you, Antonia Arroyo. For the long term.”
“I’ll need a couple of weeks to do my due diligence on you, and then I’ll want that timeframe in a binding contract,” I haggle, straight-faced, but then I can’t help but break into an enormous smile.
“Until then, would you settle for a handshake?”Look at Ash being the coy one now.
This is a negotiation I will not back down from, and one I’m determined to win.
“No handshake,” I counter. Ash looks surprised at my refusal given the delight on my face. “But I do want a kiss.”
“Right here?”
“Right now.” I pull Ash into my house and close the door behind him. “Happy New Year to me.”
“Happy New Year to us.”
