Yours, For Good (Cozy Latine Billionaires #4)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Date : March 24 To : Mr. Smith From : Eleanora Subject : all about that sweet success

Dear Mr. B.,

It's with joyous affection that I write this letter, to inform you that I've received three letters from investors wanting to be a part of my business.

Did you see that? THREE!!!

As a consequence, the incubator has offered extra coaching sessions to help me negotiate with my investors (!) and maximize the influx of money and resources.

Mr. B., we did it!

You put me in this program so I could learn how to get here, and take this opportunity to jump straight into the business of my dreams. A chance to change things for people like me. And I did! And I will.

I met every one of my goals— I met YOUR goals, too! Even more, I learned to shoot for the moon. I asked for my wildest dreams, buying myself room to negotiate down. But wouldn't you know it? What I got was my dreams on a silver platter… and another, and another. On three platters, Mr. B. I will have a generous salary, and I'm getting signing bonuses, and enough independence from the investors that I can still take my company in the direction I want.

If you think I cried when I got the first letter, imagine how I felt by the third. I was shaking, Mr. B.. I'm not altogether sure I have stopped…

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.

Soon you'll be done with me. Isn't that a weird feeling?

Ms. Eleanora Toledo, M. Ed., Esq.

PS: this is a disclaimer that I'm not legally allowed to call myself an esquire wherever the title is reserved for lawyers or other regulated professionals. I'm using it here for effect because I always thought it looked so fancy and old fashioned, and I chuckled while writing it down. The M. Ed. is legally my own! I acquired it through many a sacrifice, thank you very much.

Date : April 7 To : Mr. Smith From : Eleanora Subject : the blues

Dear Mr. Beanpole,

Is success blues a real thing? Because there is something about getting what I wanted that injected steroids into my feelings, and some of them are of the cerulean variety.

Don't worry, I have not let it stop me from negotiating killer deals, and I am still happy. It's also that there is a deflation in my chest that I've spent a lot of time inspecting.

It is so strange to have dreamed of something for years and have it in your grasp. I remember from my education that sometimes people feel lost when they achieve their goals; like they don't know where to focus their attention and what to fight for. That's not what's going on for me, Mr. B. I may have gotten all this seed money, but it's only the start. I have not lost my vision, and it's finally time to build it and make it happen.

For the next six months, I'll be elbows-deep in setting everything up. In eight months we will have the first tutors and mentor programs. In one year we will have our first building and after school programs. From there the expansion goes on and on until in five years, we have several offices across the country. How could I feel lost with a plan like that?

The feeling in my chest is more like amazement in that regard, I think. No, I'm pretty sure the sadness is something else.

I never told you, but Javier and I are on a break of sorts. Something happened between us while I was in New York, and I'm not sure what to make of it. I won't tell you much, because I finally learned my lesson. These letters can't be a confessional, especially not now that our time together is coming to an end. Still, I will say this:

I miss him.

I wish I knew how to overcome what happened between us. I wish I could ask for his opinion! Isn't that ironic? I miss his friendship but I can't rely on it to ask him about this, because it's about him. Now it's been weeks and weeks since we last spoke, and instead of it becoming easier, the chasm between us remains. Though who knows, maybe he's over it. All I can say is that I am not.

In the same vein, I wish I still believed I could ask you for advice. If I realize Javier can't be that for me right now, I know for a fact you won't be that person for me, either. Wishing for it isn't enough, Mr. B., when evidence has built to the contrary.

I'm alone. No wonder I'm blue…

Nora

Date : April 26 To : Mr. Smith From : Eleanora Subject : this may be it

Dear Mr. B.,

I sit down to write this email with a heavy heart and wings of hope on my back.

You may have been notified that I sent a big deposit to the account I usually receive money from. Please, please accept it. I know that the documents I signed state you don't need to be paid back, but I want to.

Listen. I don't know you, but I happen to know a few rich people now and even became friends with a billionaire during the past few months. If you're anything like Javier (and you might be, considering you're on the JGH Charity Board and have social programs like the one that put you in my path), I expect you to say giving you the money is senseless; that it's a waste. That you have no use for it and who knows what else.

Well, giving you back the money is important to me. For a moment I thought of using it to pay for someone's education, so they could focus on studying and making friends and not on cleaning toilets and tidying the common areas. Then I realized you could do that yourself, a thousand times over. If you don't want to reinvest this money into an extra JGH student joining the incubator, then please consider setting up alternatives to the JGH itself.

(just don't like those students more than you like me, please. Care about them, but don't like them as much as you do me. That's tiny-hearted, I know, and it's also the truth. Another comforting lie, if you must.)

The thing is, if I pay you back, all we had was your support and my thankfulness. These letters will be about the (albeit one-sided) relationship we had. I want to keep that as my memory of these months together. So when I look back, I think of you as that grandfather figure, more than my benefactor.

Don't worry about my finances, Mr. B. I saved so much of what you gave me, and I am about to receive some healthy deposits into my account that are not connected to you in any way. I will have a great salary at the top end of the market. I'm comfortable now. It's time to give back.

It's also time to let you go. It's not healthy for me to keep this hope that I'll hear from you one day, and then get disappointed each time I try. Maybe I should call you Mr. Smith like you wanted in the beginning to help with the transition.

I hope you will let me go the way I want to go, too. After ten months leaning on you, it's time to spread my wings. I'm making decisions over how I want my future to look like. I'm getting ready to choose the path I'll follow. I just hope the path wants me as much as I want it.

I will send you another letter soon. Until then, please know I will always carry you in my heart.

Nora