Page 9 of The Comeback Summer

Libby throws up her hands. “Oh, comeon.”

“We have to make a thorough list,” I tell her, mimicking her words.

When she sticks her tongue out at me, I grab the eraser and chuck it at her. She ducks and it sails over her head.

“Loving the professionalism,” Scott murmurs. “Maybe I should call HR. Oh wait, you let them go...”

Libby straightens up, brushing her brown hair away from her face. “Here’s a pro: getting Lou’s business would put the Freedman Group on the map again!”

I write that down:PUT US ON THE MAP. She’s right; Lou is exactly the kind of big, flashy client GiGi would’ve taken a risk on. “I agree,” I say, which is my way of apologizing to my sister for throwing the eraser at her head.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling. Which is her way of apologizing for sticking her tongue out at me.

“Shutup!” Great Scott gasps. I whirl around to see him gaping at his phone. “I swear to God that woman cannot be fifty-five years old, but Wikipedia says it’s true. Put that as a pro.”

“That she looks young for her age?” I ask, confused.

“Flawless skin,” he says in a firm voice. “Anyone who takes care of their skin can be trusted to take care of everything else. Including their professional life. Write it down.”

“Write it! Write it!” Libby chants, clapping her hands.

I know when I’m beaten, so I shrug and writeFLAWLESS SKINunder the pro column.

“Yes!” Libby raises her hand toward Scott for a high five. He grunts in return, and Libby drops her arm awkwardly back to her side.

“We also need to consider Lou herself,” I say. “She’s used to having total control of her brand. Will she listen to us? Will she accept our expertise? She could be difficult to work with.”

Scott chimes in again: “She will absolutely be difficult to work with. Mark my words, besties.”

DIFFICULT TO WORK WITHgoes under the cons.

Libby glares at Scott. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m neutral,” he says. “I’m Switzerland.”

“Another potential con,” I say, on a roll now, “is if we upset Lou, she could go on her podcast and say negative things about our business. One bad comment times ten million listeners adds up to a bad reputation that there’s no recovering from.”

MIGHT PUT US ON BLAST, I write on the board. The con section is longer than the pros now, and my heart rate settles.

I continue. “Another con is—”

“Enough!” Libby marches over to the whiteboard and snatches the marker from my hand. Then she writes under the pro column in huge letters,WILL SAVE OUR COMPANY.

“We have no other options!” She waves her hands at the dozens of Post-it notes on the glass walls. “Are any of these people asking us to work with them? No. And none of them are big enough to make a difference anyway.”

I press my lips together, knowing she’s right.

“Yes, it’s a gamble,” Libby continues, “but as GiGi used to say, ‘if you’re going to climb a mountain, make it Masada.’ ”

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. Usually, I love it when she gets like this. It means that something big is going to happen, somethingexciting.

But it can also be terrifying, especially when the neurotic voices in my head start chattering:This isn’t going to work. What if she gives us some ridiculous, embarrassing challenge? What if we spend twelve weeks trying to convince her, but in the end she doesn’t hire us?

We could spend our entire summer trying to make a comeback, and it could all be for nothing. And I know from experience that the harder you try to hold something together, the more it hurts when it falls apart.

“We’ve been stuck in a hole for so long, and it’s getting deeper,” Libby says, stepping closer. “Lou just dropped down a ladder, Han. I know there are no guarantees, but we’reworthtaking a chance on.”

I have reservations. They’re right there, at the back of my throat, but I feel myself getting swept along in the current of Libby’s passion. I don’t want to let her down. Or GiGi.

---