Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(4)

Eight years ago, I was graduating early from Harvard and starting business school with a concentration in finance.

On the first day of class, the professor gave us a fairly easy assignment: “Take a business, any current business, and come up with ways to make it better. Develop a new plan that will increase revenues and make the business more profitable.”

While most of my classmates chose honorable things like nonprofit organizations, hospitals, and universities, I chose Starbucks. I took its existing business model and expanded it. I decided it made more sense to fit each one with a viable bakery—to cut off potential competition from Panera, Dunkn’ Donuts, and any other pastry shop.

I explained that every location would feature the same set of freshly baked goods, but each one would have its own specialty items that were specific to its region and locale.

As I was giving an example of my overseas model, the professor cut me off.

“Ethan Lockwood,” he held his stomach and laughed. “Are you telling me that out of all businesses to improve upon, you chose Starbucks?”

“Yes sir. I really feel that—”

“Mr. Lockwood, I would expect something like this from one of my undergraduate students,” he was still laughing, “not someone like you.”

“I’m sorry sir. I don’t understand.”

“Starbucks is a billion dollar company! They’re doing pretty well in my book. I don’t see how adding a bakery, changing the décor, and focusing on local items would benefit them at all.”

“Sir I—”

“You have forty eight hours to change your project. I expect something better. Who’s next?”

I didn’t change my project.

I dropped out.

For over a year, I worked on my business model, rewriting it over and over until I was sure it was perfect. I sought out a few optimistic investors, purchased a small test shop on the outskirts of campus, and hired two employees.

Within six months, my coffee shop—Autumn Wonder, earned a seventy thousand dollar profit. Over the years, the store expanded across the state, the country, and eventually overseas. It grew from being a multi-million dollar corporation to a multi-billion dollar corporation.

In 2010, the year I decided to take a mental break from being CEO and went on an endless party binge—sleeping with endless women, traveling to a different country every week, and deliberately avoiding any real work, the board fired me from my own company.

Barry cast the deciding vote.

It took me a while to get over the heartbreak, to stop blaming everyone else for my mistakes, but I realized that I needed to get serious; that lots of people depended on me to make smart decisions, and the thought of trusting a womanizing and party prone CEO wasn’t the easiest to bear.

When I did come back to the company—after promising the board I would change my ways and presenting them with an unparalleled expansion plan, I came back with a vengeance.

By 2012, I’d expanded Autumn Wonder to more than sixty countries with over twenty one thousand retail stores, easily ousting Starbucks as the largest coffee shop in the world.

I smiled at the memory and called my mother. “Is everything set up for tonight? Does it look Hawaiian themed?”

“Sure does!” she practically screamed. “I’m so excited! My son is finally getting married!”

I was convinced that no one in my family was more excited than my mom. She’d wanted me to find “someone special” and settle down years ago; back when settling down was the last thing on my mind.

“You remembered to leave out the chives in the dip display, right? You know—”

“Jade is allergic, I know. Everything is perfect, Ethan! Let me and your grandmother work on the party and go enjoy your company’s big accomplishment. I’ll see you later tonight. Love you!” she hung up.

I eyed the pretty picture of Jade that sat on my desk and grinned. She was standing in front of a large coconut tree and smiling her big infectious smile. Her strawberry blonde hair was loosely tousled past her shoulders and her skin was perfectly tanned from our most recent trip to Bora Bora.

I told her that I’d booked a weekend villa for us in Hawaii and we were set to fly out tomorrow evening, but I left out the part where we would be staying in a customized “Just Engaged” suite.

Sure, I wasn’t actually “in love”—I’d never understood that concept, but I had really strong feelings for her and she lined up with every requirement on my checklist. I didn’t think I needed to believe in the “love of my life” and “soul mate” stuff to believe in marriage.

To me, marriage meant being with someone I sincerely trusted and admired for the rest of my life. It meant having a caring business partner.

It was also a safety net, a necessary contract to protect my wealth after death, and a way to make sure my assets would be in good hands.

Jade was a perfect match.

Barry poked his head around my door. “Ethan, you’re missing the ice sculptures. You begged me to pay eighty grand for them. Don’t you want to at least see the investment?”

“Right,” I stood up and followed him out.

My mom and grandmother outdid themselves: Palm trees lined the backyard deck, six foot tiki torches burned orange and red fire throughout the yard, and dozens of exotic fruit displays sat on high wood tables. There were even women dressed in grass skirts and leis, serving frozen margaritas and umbrella drinks.