Page 10 of Let it Breathe
I nodded and followed her, my father and brother following me.
The stage in the main hall sat in the middle of the vast conference center. Chairs arranged in a semi-circle lined twenty rows back, and most of the seats were full. I swallowed and hoped the sweat under my arms wouldn't seep through my dress.
The dress fit perfectly, and my black leather peep-toe pumps gave me a few inches and made my ass look amazing. I tied my hair back but let a few pieces fall around my face. When we reached the stage, an attendant helped me attach the wireless microphone.
"Listen, Bella. You just go out there and give the presentation like we wrote and answer the questions as open and honestly as you can," my father said.
"Okay."
He leaned over and kissed me on both cheeks. Another thing he picked up in Italy.
My father scurried to his seat.
"Don't mess this up. It's only our family’s legacy." My brother cackled and followed my father. My brother, with his scruffy brown hair and light brown eyes, was a younger version of my father. All the Darielle men were handsome, and they knew it. I channeled their confidence.
Oh God, I need to throw up.
"It's my pleasure to introduce you to the COO of Darielle Vineyards, Chai Darielle."
Too late.
I can do this. I can do this.
I paused for another few seconds then took a deep breath. I exhaled and walked out on stage.
"Good morning. Thank you, Mr. Jansen." The host of the summit leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I walked to the middle of the stage. Sitting in the middle in three larger chairs were the panel of judges they had invited to give the summit aShark Tanktype vibe to this presentation. The production assistant gave me tips beforehand on how to make my presentation more dramatic. I ignored her and laid out the facts.
I regarded each one of them, held my hands out in front of me, and began.
"Like Mr. Jansen said, my name is Chai Darielle. I'm the COO of Darielle Vineyard in Sonoma, California. My family has run Darielle for over one hundred years. We have twenty acres of the prettiest countryside in Sonoma Valley. Our vine is full of grapes—we plant them, harvest them, and make the most amazing wine in three flavors; Riesling, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Shiraz.
We hired two gorgeous women and one hot guy to deliver a sample of the wines to the three judges. The hot guy was my idea. When he flashed the older women his million-dollar smile, I knew our wine would taste like the best wine in the world to her. I winked at her, and she grinned and turned back to the hot guy.
What we had going for us was the wine was good. My grandfather got that one thing right. He created a quality product; it was his business sense that sucked.
"There are samples available for everyone at our booth if you want to invest ..." I paused for dramatic effect. "Your time, that is."
The judges smiled. I peeked over at my father, and he grinned and nodded his head in encouragement.
"Judges, potential investors, we are seeking two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for ten percent equity in our vineyard."
All three of the judges nodded, and I continued my presentation without a stumble.
"What do you think has happened to the business in the last three years? Why isn't it thriving?" one of the male judges asked.
"We tried to be Beringers." I paused. A little drama couldn't hurt. "But on an amateur, backyard weekend winemaker's budget." The audience laughed. "I mean it's all relative. We had some good years and some bad years, but we never caught up."
I paced the stage with my fingers laced.
"My grandfather had a vision, but the execution was flawed. The business was successful on a regional level because of our personal touch and enthusiasm for our product. Instead of our own sales team, we lumped our brand in the big book with other distributors. We got away from our vineyard being a destination and our wine an experience."
"What would you do with the money?" the older male judge asked.
"We would hire an in-house sales team and concentrate on re-establishing our brand regionally first." I counted off on my fingers. "California, Oregon, Washington, Nevada, and Arizona. Then I would use the money to make renovations to the vineyard and add a restaurant and eventually a bed and breakfast. I want our vineyard to be a destination for great events and great food, and that will sell the wine when our guests return home."
The attendant signaled for one more question from the audience. When she passed off the mic, my eyes grew wide, and I held my stomach as it did a summersault.
He flashed me a knowing smile and proceeded to ask his questions.
