Page 47 of Sunny Side Up
twenty-three
The launch had been a success. I knew that before I was informed we were two hours over the agreed-upon event timing, as I was gently kicking out press while frantically typing their personal orders into my dying phone. But all I could think about was making things right with Dennis.
I didn’t sleep that night. Instead, I read his text, over and over.
I needed to apologize and beg for a second chance.
Of course he was the one. From the very beginning, he’d felt like home.
He made me feel like myself. My truest self, as cheesy as that was.
The closer we got, the more I realized how safe he made me feel, how loved, how special.
But I’d been purposefully distracting myself with Ted.
I’d deliberately let Zack’s bullshit podcast offer consume me.
I’d been obsessing over Lbr and SONNY—looking for things to micromanage and nitpick—despite a capable team that had it handled.
I hadn’t been ready, I guess, to face the terrifying reality that by admitting Dennis was it , I would be opening myself up to heartbreak all over again.
I just had to hope I hadn’t ruined it for good.
Part of me wanted to call Dennis immediately, to write and rewrite and rewrite my apologies the moment I woke up. Unfortunately, I opened my eyes to a different calendar event chiming from my phone, and I knew I had to deal with that first.
Coffee with Ted.
After our awkward public kiss, I’d avoided Ted for the rest of the launch event.
When he reached out last night, offering to meet for coffee this morning, I knew I had to agree. Rip off the Band-Aid, as they say.
Luckily, we were meeting on my turf this time.
I made my way to a table in the courtyard of the High Line Hotel with my dogs and our morning treats.
Our walk over had been filled with humans of all shapes and sizes and styles walking fast, fantasizing, waiting for their next big break.
On a morning like today, I was grateful for this reminder.
This rush of purpose. New York was built for the hearts that bleed.
This was my town; these were my people. I’d chart my way onward, too, one step at a time.
Ted walked over to us, a tiny espresso cup and saucer in hand.
He looked as sharp as ever. Like an Italian businessman.
“I’ve got to get to the office, but I’m glad we’re meeting face-to-face.
First and foremost, congratulations on the launch.
” He rested his palms on our small table, looking straight at me.
“I’m sure you’ve read the emails already, but the metrics are incredible.
The buyers are thrilled. They’re increasing orders.
This is already proving to be a valuable investment. ”
“Thank you, Ted,” I said, and I meant it.
“For believing in us in the first place. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t heard our mission back in your office and joined our team.
” I took a deep breath. “But I have been doing a lot of reflecting these past few weeks, both in and out of the office. And I don’t think our relationship should continue. In either sphere.”
“I’m sorry…” Ted fiddled with his watch strap. He scooted his chair back, then brought it close to the table again. “What are you saying?”
“I would like to exercise my buyback option per our agreement. I’m realizing how critical it is that I have full control over the growth of SONNY. Otherwise, it’s just another company that promises to elevate women, then ultimately lets them down.”
Ted tried to interject, but I kept going.
“Unfortunately, while I understand that the Stonebridge’s deal would be lucrative, the fact that you didn’t find it imperative to mandate that their locations carry our plus sizes in-store shows that you either don’t care or don’t understand the fundamental purpose of the bran—”
“Sunny,” he said, successfully interrupting me this time. “Most women in New York aren’t plus size. In, like, Wisconsin, sure. Everyone’s overweight there.”
My jaw dropped.
“You know what I mean,” he said in response.
“You’re acting childish. Stonebridge’s appeals to a savvy, stylish, wealthy metropolitan customer.
And whether she fits into it well or not, that customer is buying straight sizes—and keeping them.
If she can’t fit into them right away, she has the money to make it happen by her next vacation. ”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Who had he thought he’d been sleeping with these past few months? Who had I been sleeping with? Was he delusional? Purposefully being an asshole?
If he, too, had found out that I’d written about him in Sunny Side Up —that he was in a fairly public race to be my wedding date; that I’d nicknamed him the Silver Fox—if he’d found all of that out, and this was his passive-aggressive way of getting back at me, even this felt low.
I’d been trying to find a way to talk to him about all of that, but now I felt like, Fuck him .
But I also had to regain my composure. I had to close out this conversation, this chapter in my life.
I sat up straight and lifted my chin. “Ted, you’ve been made well aware, from the very inception of this partnership, that in-store options for women of all sizes is the reason I started SONNY.
Maybe it’s not going to make me a billionaire, but I didn’t do this for the money.
I did this—exactly as we proposed it to you—to solve a real problem in the marketplace for women, women like me, like your sister, if you remember.
Clearly, the critical ideals of this brand don’t fit into your business plan.
Which is why I want to terminate this partnership, effective immediately. ”
“Sunny, Jesus,” said Ted. “You’re acting hysterical.
It’s one deal . You don’t understand how these things work.
” He reached across the table and covered one of my hands with both of his in an attempt to placate me.
Or to assert dominance. I was starting to realize that this version of Ted, which I’d only seen occasionally—or had only let myself see occasionally?
—this was the real Ted. The teeth-flashing charmer was known as an industry shark for a reason.
“I understand our customers, Ted. And I understand what I want this company to be: female-led, woman-owned, and 100 percent size inclusive, everywhere SONNY is sold. I appreciate how far you’ve helped us come, I really do.
You got this off the ground, you fueled the momentum, you found the factories, you made things happen.
But we now have cash on hand to repay your initial investment with your preferred return, and I think it’s best we part ways moving forward. ”
See, when I couldn’t sleep, and when my brain had run out of ways to apologize to Dennis, I’d whittled away the rest of the night running SONNY’s numbers.
Ted had invested nearly $200,000 into the SONNY brand.
That was a lot of money, but it wasn’t so much that I couldn’t find it elsewhere even with the increased return we had negotiated in our original contract, especially after the unambiguous success of the launch.
We could do a round of friends-and-family investors (big thanks to Brooke and Noor, who had texted me this morning already offering their support) and look for female-owned finance partnerships.
As much as I had enjoyed the wining-and-dining of it all, I knew that we didn’t need Ted anymore.
Ted’s jaw tightened. He switched his head to the left side, then the right, cracking his neck behind his Windsor-knotted tie.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sunny, on both fronts.
Because I care about you, about the growth of SONNY”—he cleared his throat—“and I feel that I have both a personal and professional duty to tell you that this is ill-advised and irresponsible.”
“Ted, I know this is complicated, because of our outside-the-office relationship, and I’m sorry for that, too,” I said. It was the truth. I regretted the mess, but it got me here.
Ted stood up, pressed his hands together, shaking me and our relationship off like just another bad deal. “Well, when you change your mind about SONNY, you know where to find me.” With that, he walked away.
I sat back down in the courtyard. I drank my latte slowly, savored my croissant. Listened to the sounds of cooing pigeons and my snoring dogs. We had the day off. They deserved it, to say the least. And I needed to clear my head.
I was proud of SONNY, proud of Lbr, proud of both teams, proud of my business-self. And I was relieved: With the SONNY stuff taken care of (for now), I was able to turn all my attention toward making things right with Dennis. The question was just… how?