“Oh, hey, tell Lena hi for me,” Byron says. “But what are you doing pitching to Cal-Mart. I thought you guys only did Oscar movies and stuff.”
“Yes, Yinz Entertainment used to only work with prestige brands and Oscar movies. But you know, companies like Aardman Animations actually make the bulk of their money on commercials, not the Wallace & Gromit and Shaun the Sheep stuff. So we’re looking to expand into Brand Content—hold on, Ronny…”
Seeing the toll booths for the Lincoln Tunnel, I slow and pay the price to get into the city.
And just like the internet promised, there’s plenty of coverage in the tunnel. I easily pick up the conversation with Byron again as I drive through it. “Lucky for Yinz, Luca’s best friends with Holt Calson, the Cal-Mart CEO, so he was able to get us this opportunity for a series of animated commercials they want to do. And if we nail down this Cal Mart deal, Yinz will make enough money to keep us in the black for a whole year. So, I really, really want to get it.”
Byron gives me an impressed look over FaceTime. “Whoa, a few months ago, you didn't even know how to drive. I had to talk you through plunging a toilet. But now look at you. Driving yourself to New York to pitch Holt Calson.”
“Actually, we’re pitching the ad agency that does all of the Cal-Mart stuff. Cal-Mart does have offices in New York, but they outsource all their advertising stuff.”
“Still, I'm really impressed,” Byron insists. “Mom and Dad didn't think you’d last a month on your own. But you're killing it.”
I smile, realizing every word he’s saying is true. I’d been scared I wouldn't be able to hack it in the real world too. But here I am, real worlding like a boss—even though I was smart enough to appoint Lucy the president of Yinz Entertainment and give her the big office so that I could do the work of a regular animator and learn as I went along.
But Lucy was beyond thrilled when I got us this pitch. And I’m getting all sorts of comfortable wearing my Boss Lady panties on the daily—literally, I found a pair with that moniker emblazoned across the booty, and I bought ten so that I could wear them every day.
“Yeah,” I say, agreeing with Byron. “I'm getting an A+ in adulting, right?
“Yasss!” Byron agrees with a laugh. “Good luck with your pitch, sis.”
As it turns out, I don’t need any extra luck beyond getting the opportunity to be in the room. Lucy and I totally nail the pitch. By the time we’re done with our meeting, the ad execs are not only talking about securing our services for the Cal-Mart deal, but they also want us to float a few ideas for other ad campaigns they’re planning to animate.
Lucy and I are ecstatic as we walk out of the enormous 6th Avenue ad agency.
But, you know, adulting. We manage not to squeal and jump up and down until we’re all the way outside the building.
“Honestly, that couldn’t have gone any better,” Lucy tells me. “It was so nice not to have to sit through dinner and drinks while Greg chummed it up with his old Carnegie Mellon crew. And I know, we're not supposed to speak his name, like he's Voldemort or something, but I'm so glad your evil ex bought you this company.”
I tell her the truth, “Victor might've bought the company. But you're the reason it's running so smoothly.”
I’m not just gushing to gush. Under Lucy’s management, the Yinz staff is already much happier. As it turned out, she had a whole host of ideas she'd been sitting on for years. Including coordinating with the local daycare to make Yinz Entertainment a lot more family-friendly, which will be extremely important to me here soon.
We knock around a few more ideas about our follow-up thank you letter to the ad agency. Lucy thinks we should soft pitch a few more ideas for the other campaigns they mentioned, just to let them know we were listening.
I fully agree, and instead of going out with her and a few of her old Val-Arts friends that night, I stay in with room service and work on the first draft of the follow-up email.
Adulting!
Which is why I hate that I still have trouble getting to sleep that night, despite all the delicious accomplishment swirling around my chest.
I could blame it on the baby. My belly is swollen and unmistakably a baby now. There’s also all this anxiety around buying a house before I become a mother.
But those two scapegoats can’t explain the bone-deep loneliness that sweeps over me every night before I go to bed. Still.
This is crazy because I used to go for nearly a year without any nighttime companionship whatsoever. Plus, I'm living my best life now that I'm no longer with Victor. There’s absolutely no reason why I should feel sad whenever I think about him, which is still way too much.