I push down on the top of the french press and pour the delicious-smelling coffee into three generous mugs. Two excited voices banter behind me, and I turn toward them with a smile.
“Here we are,” I say, setting the three mugs down on the kitchen island, “We can’t plot brilliant business strategy without coffee.”
“That, my dear, is a fact,” Riley says, gratefully taking her cup.
“Here, here,” Emerson replies, grabbing one for himself.
I settle down at the island beside them. The entire surface is covered with outlines, graphs, and ideas. A flurry of excited butterflies rally around my stomach as I look over all our hard work.
“This is really happening, isn’t it?” I grin.
“Sure is,” Riley replies, “You guys are ready to launch.”
“I just have one more feature I want to add to the app, and we’ll be golden,” Emerson says, stepping my way and slipping his arm around my slender waist. “You feeling good, Ms. Founding Partner?”
“Good and ready, Mr. Founding Partner,” I laugh, clinking my coffee mug to his.
For the past year, Emerson and I have been hard at work developing a suite of new applications to take the world by storm. The suite will be the centerpiece and first project of our two-person creative collective: Treehouse. We’re the founding partners, CEOs, and only employees—save for our PR consultant, Riley, and our de facto mascot, Roxie. But though we may be small, I feel very good about our operation.
Our first batch of apps is targeted at friends and family of people struggling with substance abuse. There are resources, information, and support available through this modest suite of applications. There’s even a way for individuals to get in touch with each other, share the burden of living with and loving someone who’s self-destructing. Basically, it’s everything Emerson and I wish we had as kids, everything we were eventually able to give each other...only in app form.
Hey, it’s 2015, after all.
“All you need to do is press ‘publish’ and you’ll be good to go!” Riley says excitedly.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Emerson asks, sliding a tablet my way with the suite of apps pulled up, ready to be launched.
“We’ll do it together,” I say, taking his hand in mine. I feel his wedding band brush against my hand and get a little thrill. We only just said “I do” at a small City Hall ceremony last month, so seeing his wedding band is still new.
“Together,” Emerson agrees, “Naturally.”
“Get on with it, lovebirds!” Riley says excitedly, “I want to put out the press release!”
With hands clasped, Emerson and I each lower a finger to the “big red button,” and introduce the world to our latest idea. After months of tireless effort, it feels wonderful.
There may have been a time when starting my own business, launching a brand new product, and subjecting myself to the crazy world of the internet may have been terrifying. But as I look up at Emerson, I realize that I’ve already taken the biggest, best risk of my life. Nothing can stop me now.
Scratch that, I think, as Emerson scoops me up into a celebratory kiss. Nothing can stop us, now.
THE END