Gotta love this guy. He often deflects praise—such a rarity in business. But the man deserves it. His cheery attitude and nice-guy approach work so damn well when striking deals. Sort of the opposite of the conventional wisdom on how being a prick can land you better terms. Zachary snags the deals we want by actually, gasp, negotiating with a smile and making sure everyone wins.
And I want him to know that. “We need you. We think you’re fabulous, and you’re, what, one deal away from the bonus we didn’t think you’d earn till the end of your first year? Credit given where credit’s due,” I say, then take a drink of this delish cocktail the bartender whipped up. Mmm, it’s tropical with a splash of tequila, and it’s fabulous. Like Sassy Yoga right now.
“And Zachary,” Olive prompts, shooting him an appreciative smile, “don’t hold back from Katie. Tell her what you told me in the office earlier today.”
Zachary straightens his shoulders, sets down his glass. He pushes his glasses up on his nose. “We’re in talks with the San Francisco Dragons. It’s early days. But I’m hopeful. I’ve been talking to the new owner and she’s amazing,” he says. “And, just like the Renegades, they like the idea of having a high-profile yoga expert teaching the team. I’m telling you, YouTube has turned yoga teachers into celebs, practically, and you’re one of those.”
I dip my face, both embarrassed and proud.
He’s not wrong though.
The online videos we’ve created have raised our profile, and I lead most of those videos.
But there’s another emotion swirling in me too—regret. For what might have been with Harlan. I wanted the chance to explore possibilities with him. To take my time getting to know him. Is there a way to have it all? Or maybe . . . eventually?
I shift in my chair, feeling a little awkward asking, but needing to anyway. “So, how long is the Renegades contract for?”
Part of me hopes he says it ends when the season does, and I can seize the chance to see Harlan then. Another part hopes he doesn’t say that at all.
Surely, this is the universe’s way of telling me to slow down, right?
Universe, why are you so hard to read? Just give me a sign.
Zachary clears his throat. “Till the end of the season, with an option to renew for next year. But they already expect to renew it. The contracts department said as much.”
Olive claps gleefully. “See? You’ve already impressed them.”
I fix on a big grin, grateful the client is happy, even though my silly heart already wrote a reunion scene for Harlan and myself at the end of the season. Best to get my red pen out and slash that possibility. Perhaps that’s the sign. The universe is slamming the brakes on my hopes. The universe knows I was going too fast.
Fair enough. Message received.
“And the Dragons would be a huge coup,” Olive puts in. “I would love to add them to our client list.”
My business brain snaps me back to the deal-celebrating moment. “Absolutely. You’re going to get us deals with all the major sports. This could be huge expansion-wise,” I say, imagining our potential if we add a pro baseball team to our list of corporate clients.
That’s where it’s best to focus. Not on my Prince Charming fantasies. Besides, I learned the hard way where too much attention on a man can lead. Especially a man you don’t know really well.
“Just keep being an awesome yoga empress, Katie. And I’ll keep getting the deals. You make it easy,” Zachary says.
The three of us toast again, then order appetizers and brainstorm the next steps for the business.
When the meal is over, we say goodnight to Zachary, and Olive and I wander through Hayes Valley to our favorite ice cream shop.
Which makes me think of Harlan and our Sexual Tension Swirl ice cream.
Which makes me miss him.
Which makes me wish our timing was a little better.
Damn.
I sigh in the San Francisco November air, the fall breeze whisking by us.
“Hey,” Olive says, linking her arm with mine. “How do you feel about this partnership? Are you truly okay with it?”
I whip my gaze to my mind-reader of a sister. “Was it that obvious?”
“Obvious that you were thinking about your guy who got away? Yeah,” she says, with a bob of her shoulder. “I can kinda read you. Sister intuition.”
If only she’d seen me yesterday when I lost my mind over Harlan’s big play in the Seattle game. She wouldn’t have needed intuition, that’s for sure. But she was doing a long bike ride in wine country to prep for a charity century ride, and now’s the first time we’ve had a chance to truly connect.
“To answer your question, I’m all good with the partnership. It’s huge for us, don’t you think?”