Page 9 of The Best Man: Unfinished Business

Now she was on a mission to help other Black women begin their own wellness journey.

Her pitch deck was flawless and her sizzle reel looked like a movie trailer.

The scene had been set, and she was in the presenter’s seat now, all business.

Evelyn, her contemporary, was at the head of the table, in the decider’s seat.

This would be her ace in the hole. Everyone in the room knew that they were friends, that Jordan had even mentored Evelyn through the ranks, but they had no idea of the strength of the relationship, one that Jordan was counting on to make this last meeting her best.

Success doesn’t mean just being successful…

. She surveyed each person’s face in a split second, gauging if they were following along and nodding.

She’d said something profound, the payoff of what she’d learned after a very costly sacrifice and perhaps equally expensive therapy sessions.

Now it was time to take what she had learned and do with it what she did best. Turn it into a smash hit, Emmy Award–winning broadcast show.

“I see,” Evelyn said, uncrossing her arms and settling into the cushions of her executive swivel chair. “Very intriguing. Can you expound, Jordan?”

Jordan looked to the other faces, seeing some nods to her left and to her right. She understood Evelyn’s directive; make them understand.

“Of course.” Jordan made it a point to make and keep eye contact as she slowly turned to look around the table, bringing everyone along with her, fully in control.

Satisfied that she’d taken all the air in the room, she continued.

“We are at an inflection point in corporate and career culture. People are unplugging, adjusting, taking inventory. COVID was a wake-up call. We’ve had years of political instability and an insurrection.

And now the reelection of a divisive and polarizing figure in our nation’s highest office.

Who bears the brunt of that divisiveness?

You know who. After generations of striving for a corner office, it’s become absolutely clear there is something to pay attention to outside of boardrooms like these.

And urgently, with more at stake now than ever, that something is the rest of our lives.

Women, and in particular Black women, are no longer willing to show up just to pay the price of success and expect nothing in return.

They want…no…they expect more.” I do too, Jordan thought, and took a breath to reset herself.

She felt this so deeply it was easy to get worked up about it, to have her passion bleed through and have it mistaken for anger.

There was always such a thin line between a Black woman’s enthusiasm and some kind of misinterpretation.

So she was being professional, deliberate with each syllable, each pause, each turn of her head, each set of eyes that she met.

This was her sixth meeting of the day, and intentionally so, making her pitch well-rehearsed by now.

It had been repeated all day long in rooms just like these, full of suits and cynicism.

But this one was different. She’d saved the best for last. She had good connections with all the executives in the room and her reputation was still stellar.

But having Evelyn in this room, with real power now, was worthy of her best performance and she was happy for the questions. Evelyn for sure would getit.

Jordan wound up for the big reveal. “It’s time now, for wellness to go mainstream.

Black women are ready for a show that centers all aspects of wellness—physical, mental, spiritual, and environmental.

The host for this show will bring in guests each week for a panel-style discussion to center the latest developments and discoveries of interest on the topic of health.

” In her career, Jordan had already heard more pitches than she’d ever be able to remember.

Today, she was ready for anything. Each question that even might be asked as a follow-up she already held in her mind.

Who’s this show for? She didn’t even need to think about that answer.

“This show is for Black women, particularly now—feeling betrayed and let down, tired of shouldering the burden of everyone else’s work, who are thinking about the changes they need to make,” she added.

Jordan knew this woman, these women, well.

This woman was her. She’d walked away at the pinnacle of her career.

She’d made a choice and the choice was for a change, a different life, one with herself at the center, where she could enjoy the fruits of her work.

Fully in her flow, she concluded. “This network’s core business is to sell access to consumer buying power.

In order to do that, you do need forward-leaning programming that addresses the needs and interests of key viewer demographics.

And the wellness economy is the largest sector in the world, led by the United States.

That’s a $1.8 trillion market. So people are getting the message—success can’t be enjoyed if you’ve compromised your health.

Yet Black women are still dying to succeed.

Yes, we’re killing it. And it’s killing us.

We’re the growth sector within the growth sector. ”

Jordan winced slightly at her use of the personal words “we” and “us.” She hadn’t meant to bring it so close to home. This pitch wasn’t personal. It was about the right thing to do right now, a business opportunity for an audience of millions, not a vanity project.

She surveyed the faces around the room. They looked interested, intrigued perhaps, but not as excited as she expected. They were processing. Evelyn was the big boss in the room, so the junior execs wouldn’t say anything until she’d said her piece. But for an extended while, she was quiet.

After a moment, just before Jordan started to ask for questions, Evelyn started to speak.

“Thanks so much for this, Jordan,” she said.

“As I’m sure you know, we’re focused more so on news and covering measurable developments relevant to our viewer.

This seems like we’d be doing something outside of our core competence.

A new format, a new approach, and a topic that’s interesting, but still niche, as it would target just a portion of our audience.

Who do you envision as the host?” Evelyn asked her follow-up, leaning forward toward Jordan against the table, an indication of the importance of the question.

The host? They’d just hire a host, of course, like they’d hired so many hosts of so many shows before.

It wasn’t about the host; it was about the concept.

One five-hour flight, three hours of sleep, and six meetings in, six times that she’d done this pitch, this was the first moment that it occurred to Jordan that things wouldn’t be as easy as she thought they’dbe.

“The host?” Jordan repeated. There were so many other much more important questions they should be asking, like who would be prime advertisers, and how would they penetrate their core audience demographic targets.

Questions they’d ask, if they were interested.

Was Evelyn just throwing her a line? Was she drowning?

Was this a prelude to no? But, unfazed, she listed a litany of well-known camera-facing personalities.

Anyone would be glad to helm a Jordan Armstrong show.

She’d generated hundreds of millions of dollars over the course of her career in advertising revenue, maybe even hit a billion.

“Hmmm…” Strangely, Evelyn seemed far less than satisfied with the answer.

While “hmmm” wasn’t a proper word, it was as much of a response as any, and Jordan knew it.

Something about her pitch was unconvincing and Evelyn was trying to convey that to Jordan—she hadn’t sold the room.

They were humoring her, according her the respect her long career and experience had earned her.

This wasn’t what she’d come for. She wanted them to recognize the value in the concept she’d brought forth, and more important, the value in addressing the audience this concept was for.

Jordan leaned down and placed her fingertips on the table in front of her.

She had no hesitation to meet each one of the executives straight in the eye, Evelyn too.

Nobody was going to bullshit her in a meeting.

Not like this. She’d been here too many times, charged with the same kind of decision-making.

She’d brought them a great idea, but if they didn’t get it, then they didn’t getit.

“How about you tell me what you’re thinking,” Jordan said, looking straight at Evelyn now.

Evelyn shifted, looking much less comfortable than she had earlier. She cleared her throat and then seemed to find her grounding. “Well, Jordan, what I think we need to do is circle up on this on our end to discuss and—”

“Ev, let’s not do this.” Jordan cut Evelyn off quickly.

She knew where it was headed. She’d been in five meetings prior and the responses had been similar.

Tepid. Perfunctory. Any warmth in the room was for Jordan herself, but not for her pitch.

It was already obvious that was the case here too.

“Listen, if you like the pitch,” Jordan continued, “then say so. And if you don’t like it, then say that too.

If you’re going to pass on this, then I’d liketo hear that now, in the room.

Let’s not waste each other’s time. You can be straightforward with me. ”