68. Natalie

68

NATALIE

T his can’t be what I think it is, surely? I look up at him, but he shakes his head smilingly.

‘Take a look inside.’

I do as he says, opening the heavy cover to see that it’s divided into sections:

The Pitch

The Numbers

Wright Holdings

I turn to the first section. If the house keys had my heart thudding, now it’s beating wildly beneath my skin. This looks like Adam’s pitch to acquire—or take a stake in—Gossamer, and my head is spinning with possibilities.

‘Just keep an open mind, that’s all I ask,’ Adam says, squeezing my hand. ‘I’m suggesting a minority stake to allow you to avail of all the opportunities I believe are out there for you, nothing more. It would still be your brand.’

The first page is a montage of beautiful products with the logos of Adam’s luxury goods brands superimposed on each product. Vega’s there, obviously, as are Elysian, Obsidian and Whitechapel Leathers. Front and centre is a Gossamer campaign shot from last summer’s collection. Below the montage is a single line:

Demi-couture brand Gossamer aligns well with the rest of Wright’s high-end luxury portfolio.

‘I think it looks good there,’ he murmurs next to me as I stare at the montage. He’s right. Whoever’s put this together has a good eye. The Gossamer dress is palest pink, and the other brand shots are also heavy on pink, blush and cream. Not only is the overall effect cohesive, but Gossamer pulls its weight in the montage.

‘It does,’ I whisper, brushing the glossy paper with my fingertips.

I flick on.

This first section is a suggestion of the doors that being a Wright brand could open for me by way of their expertise, connections and cash flow, and it’s glorious. More than glorious, actually—it’s like looking at some insane version of my brand on steroids. Adam has reached inside my brain and reproduced my most ambitious, outlandish fantasies for Gossamer.

There’s a mockup of a trunk show in a fancy hotel attended by elegant women. There’s one of a concession in Selfridges, the Gossamer space chic and feminine with thick white carpet and chunky brass fittings. And, best of all, in a section entitled Product Extensions we pitch hard to the big soft furnishing brands for a licensing agreement; we get you some PR, and boom. Given your size, the growth could be very fast and still be very manageable.’ He slides his hands up my shoulders so they’re cradling my jaw. ‘I am not acting with my heart here. Your brand equity is incredible. We just need to light a fire under all that latent potential and watch you take the world by storm.’

‘Do you mean that?’ I ask, furiously blinking away the moisture in my eyes.

‘Yes, I do. I mean every word. You seem to think I’m some gracious benefactor, when really, I want to get my grubby mitts on your beautiful brand. I’m itching to dial it up and see what we can achieve— together. ’

‘Okay,’ I whisper, as much to convince myself I understand as to convince him.

‘You should take a good look at the numbers,’ he tells me. ‘Get some advice. Talk to your dad, Gen, whoever else you tend to bounce decisions off. The next few pages have a full breakdown of how that capital could be allocated, but I will say this. The people who run my brands don’t do it for the good of their health. They compensate themselves properly. There’s a suggested salary for you, and hopefully it reflects the fact that you’re both the CEO and Creative Director.’ He nods. ‘Take a look.’

I leaf through with shaky hands, because a salary, as he knows well, has been an indulgence too far for months and months now. I squint as I attempt to decipher the financial tables in front of me—reading complex financial statements on sight is not my forte.

‘Here.’ He turns over a new page, and there it is, spelt out for me.

Holy fucking shit .

I gape at him. He has a stern look on his face.

‘It’s what you deserve, Nat. Nothing less. And that’s just a starting point. As the brand grows in scale, this should, too.’ I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. ‘Just know that if we were to hire an external candidate for both of these positions, we’d be looking at more than this.’

‘I know you’re right,’ I murmur. ‘It’s just a lot to get my head around. Could the brand really afford this?’

‘It has to. And I’m confident it can. We’ll be stripping cost out in other ways, remember? Once we take out some of the operational functions, we’ll actually free up quite a bit of cash. But my CEOs don’t work for free, nor do my Creative Directors.’ He jabs the page with his finger. ‘Talent gets rewarded. That’s really important.’

I nod, looking back down at the number he’s proposing. My head is spinning. It’s just so much. With every page of this book, he’s removing stress from my life. Adding value and pleasure and opportunity like I can’t even imagine.

‘I know how it feels to undervalue yourself,’ he whispers now. ‘Believe me, I’ve been there. I know it’s been a tough few years for you, but you’ve done the hard work to get this far. You’ve built an incredible brand, and it’s time to have some fun. Please trust me when I say you are absolutely everything I look for in a leader when I consider investing in a brand.’

I nod again. Jesus, I’ve lost the power of speech. I’m going to need to lie on a sofa for a full day and allow myself to daydream about all these gifts he’s throwing my way. The future was bright when I woke up, but this dazzling vista he’s painting for me in both my personal and professional lives is stealing the breath from my lungs. On one of the shortest, darkest days of the year, everything feels vibrant. Blinding.

‘There’s one more thing,’ he says. ‘I’ll never tell you what to do, but when I came up with that salary number, I hoped it would give you the financial freedom to give up Alchemy. As your investor, I’d like to know you were free to focus on growing Gossamer.’ He hesitates. ‘And as the man who’s hopelessly in love with you, I’d like to free up your time and energy. I know we’re both pretty work-focused, but at the very least, maybe we can work together in the evenings before we crash in front of Ted Lasso.’

I smile. I appreciate that he hasn’t brought up my type 1, but it’s there between the lines of what he’s saying. Alchemy has been a lot of fun, but God knows those late nights take their toll. It’s been a means to paying my personal bills and supporting Gossamer, but the cash injection and six-figure salary Adam’s suggesting put paid to both those headaches.

‘That makes sense,’ I admit. ‘I feel like I’ve been hanging on by a thread, to be honest.’

‘Of course you have. It’s bloody exhausting, doing what you do. Also, think of it like this. My goal is to give you choices and freedom. I’d love to know that all the work you’re doing aligns with your purpose and brings you joy. If not—delegate it. You’re a CEO, Nat. Own it. Focus on what you’re the best at, and outsource all the other shit.’

‘Say that again,’ I murmur, shutting the book and laying it carefully down on the coffee table. I clamber up so I can straddle him, slinging my arms around his neck and nuzzling the skin just under his ear.

He wraps his arms around me and laughs. One hand slides down my back to cup my bum through my robe. ‘You’re a fucking CEO. Own it, and start acting like it.’

‘Or what?’

‘Or I’ll put you over my knee until you do.’

There he is, ladies and gentlemen.

My boyfriend.

My new investor.

My partner in love and business.

My best friend and my greatest cheerleader…

… and a kinky bastard to boot.