Page 2 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
Was it the shade most closely related to flying off the handle in a fiery rage?
Roger, that!
But she had to risk it. Red was her ticket to achieving success. She required an injection of confidence. A booster of boldness! Standing in the restroom of a downtown Denver skyscraper with barely fifteen minutes to go before the biggest meeting of her life, she had to let go of her fears and welcome red’s properties of kicking ass and taking names—metaphysically speaking, of course. She, in no way, condoned violence.
Dressed in colors to psychically slay, she had a date with destiny. Even her horoscope was in agreement. As a Libra, Friday was her day—the day of the week Venus ruled, and Libras should, hypothetically, win.
And sweet Buddha’s belly, she needed a win.
It was a stroke of luck she’d even come upon this opportunity a few weeks ago.
She rarely perused the internet.
It wasn’t that she was opposed to technology—the length of her text strings with her best friends, Penny Fennimore, Harper Presley, and Charlotte Ames, could circle the entire planet at least once, if not twice. She loved connecting with her girls at the drop of a yoga mat. But when it came to her career as a yoga instructor, she sought connection through movement and meditation. That’s why it was so miraculous she’d learned about this opportunity on social media. But once she saw it, the post rattled around in her mind until she couldn’t help but fill out the attached application and hit send.
She could see it now.
Denver-based venture capitalist group, Tri-Derrick International, is looking to promote the next female wellness and fitness sensation, age 21 to 26.
Prize: twenty thousand dollars plus seed money of one hundred thousand dollars to invest in the winner’s business plan.
This money could change everything.
She’d dreamed of working with children and adults in her own yoga and meditation center—and now it was within her grasp. She’d drafted a stellar business plan and had finalized her pitch last night. She’d also dressed the part, and as long as she could keep her wobbly chi in check, she truly believed sweet victory would be hers.
But there was more. This prospect would make all the difference for her brothers as well.
She unzipped her yoga bag and reached between her rolled-up mat and portable gong and found her cell phone. Scrolling through her text messages, she landed on a line of text and a picture that reminded her of why she was here today. And why she had no other option than to go big and turn this interview into an offer—an offer that included a bonus of cold hard cash.
She studied the image on her phone, and a lightness came over her. Four years her junior, her twenty-one-year-old twin brothers, Anders and Alec, stood together grinning with a group of children and a half-built structure in the background. Then she read the message accompanying the jovial photo.
We were accepted into the study abroad program in Quito. Pre-med, here we come.
Her brothers had spent the last few months building a medical facility in a remote village outside of the Ecuadorian capital as a part of their university’s study abroad program that partnered with a local nonprofit. They’d been accepted into their college’s accelerated medical track to study medicine abroad in Quito.
Seemed like a dream come true, right? Young men wanting to become physicians to give back and help those who needed it most.
Here’s the kicker.
The wholehere-we-comepart only worked if she could pony-up sixteen thousand dollars in sixty days. Eight thousand each for the twin’s room and board. And while her brothers had received grants and loans to pay for most of their education, not everything was covered. And it wasn’t like they could depend on their father for help.
She was it. She was all they had. And she’d made a promise to watch out for them, to be the big sister. And if one thing were true in this life, it was that Libby Lamb didn’t break promises.
That was her father’s department.
So far, thanks to her yoga teaching gigs, she’d been able to help support her brothers in their studies—an accomplishment she truly treasured. Did it mean renting a tiny apartment under dubious ownership and zipping from class to class in a hunk of a rusty, aging Buick? Yep, it did. And she got it. The gas guzzler was the height of earth unfriendly, but her brothers came first. She’d pretty much raised them since she was twelve, and they were raven-haired, knobby-kneed, eight-year-olds. This opportunity in Ecuador was everything she’d wanted for them. And come hell or high water, she’d make it happen. And maybe, if she convinced the venture capitalist group to invest in her idea, she could pay for her brothers’ schooling and follow her dreams in the process.
Two birds. One stone.
But that was a lot easier said than done—especially with the off-kilter energy she’d been grappling with for the last wretched seventy-five days, which could be broken down into one thousand eight hundred hours. Or one hundred eight thousand minutes. Or six million four hundred eighty thousand seconds.
Not that she was counting.
Fine! She’d been counting since that monumentally awful day when a beefcake had jacked up her life force, screwed up her guiding energy, and had caused her steady vibe to go hysterically haywire.
Goodbye, balance and serenity.
And hello, raging yoga bitch.
