Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Absolutely,” he replied. Andrew was a rich man. His family were well off, but Andrew was rich. And he’d done it himself, jumping from idea to idea, building successful business after successful business. So, although I wanted to dismiss his romantic idea that I needed some kind of visceral connection to a business, he’d already proved he did it the right way. “The question is, do you love working with secondhand furniture?”
“I love having sex with women. I’m not going to turn that into a business,” Tristan said.
Tristan was a dick at times, but I saw his point.
“Never say never,” Andrew replied. “You might need those gigolo stripes at some point in this economy.”
Everyone around the table chuckled. Dexter opened his mouth to say something, and Tristan raised his hand to stop him.
“Spare me the obvious gags, Dexter. I know, I’ll be bankrupt by the end of the week. Etcetera, etcetera.”
“You know what, Tristan? I will spare you. What I was actually going to say to Gabriel was that he should do whatever makes him happy.” Dexter turned to me. “Tune everything out. Ignore what you think you should do for Bethany. Ignore your reaction to your father’s poor parenting and what you think people think about you. If it was entirely up to you, how would you spend your time?”
“In my workshop,” I replied, without missing a beat. “But it’s fun. Doesn’t mean I’m good at it. And I know I’m a good lawyer.”
“You’d be good at anything you set your mind to. It’s who you are,” Tristan said.
I playfully punched him on the arm and glanced around when I didn’t hear the good-natured put-down coming from one of my brothers. Instead, they were all nodding.
“And no one’s the best at anything straight off the bat,” Joshua said. “Practice and you’ll get better. That’s just a fact.”
They made it sound so simple. But I thought about it—Dexter loved his business. Loved jewelry. He always said it ran through his veins. There was nothing that lit a fire in Beck like redeveloping real estate. In fact, they were all like that. Tristan tried to pretend he wasn’t, but he was a passionate geek. What exactly that he geeked out about I wasn’t sure—something to do with technology. But they were lucky—they’d managed to find the holy grail where their passions and their careers aligned. Most people weren’t so fortunate. I’d been vaguely considering resigning and maybe taking a couple of non-exec directorships of companies a bit like the older partners did when they retired. But these guys were telling me to rip up the rule book. “What? So I just resign and make the way I blow off steam my job?”
“Why not?” Joshua said.
“I’m a good lawyer. I’ve worked really hard for years and—”
“You might be a lawyer, but I know you understand your way around the business world enough to understand the concept of sunk costs,” Joshua said. “If you’re done, get out now. Don’t give any more of your time to a career you don’t enjoy.”
“Right,” Andrew said. “Not every business I invest in works. When it doesn’t, I get out. And sometimes it works for a while and then I need to move on because I’m bored, or the business needs to move on because it needs someone else. What worked yesterday doesn’t necessarily work today. Law served you for a while. If it doesn’t any longer, move on.”
Move on and give myself a chance at a second career? It seemed so out of character. But something was pulling me toward the idea.
“If you had to put food on the table for Bethany, it might be different,” Dexter said. “But you’re in a position that most people can only dream about. Don’t waste it. You should role model that for Bethany—making the most out of life.”
I hated to think of Bethany doing a job she didn’t like, especially if she believed her father had taught her a “grin and bear it” mentality. With the amount of time everyone spent at work, it would mean she’d spend most of her life unhappy. I tried to picture myself in my workshop every day. I liked the idea of not having to put on a suit. Not having to wedge myself into an overcrowded tube train. More than that, the idea of getting to spend an entire day on a project was like the sun breaking through thunder clouds. My mind started to race with ideas of what I’d like to work on. I’d seen a Victorian bedframe online I’d love to have a go at. It would involve some cane work, but it was something I’d been meaning to try. And I’d always hoped that one day, I’d actually make something—a chair or a table—from scratch. “I wouldn’t know how to start.” A new venture sounded completely daunting, but at the same time there was a feeling of freedom that began to unlock the pressure around my heart.