The Perfect Blend by Allie Pleiter Page A

problem.”
    â€œThere’s where you’re wrong.” Will draws a long line from one end of the whiteboard to the other. He makes a big dot at the left end and writes Launch above it. “I’m not saying you won’t make millions, Josh, but you can’t assume you’ll make millions.” He makes a mark two-thirds of the way down the line. “It’ll take you six months to find an adequate facility that can grow as fast as your company can.”
    Will draws a squiggly line back from the two-thirds mark to a new mark one-third down the line. “You’ll need to know exactly when you’re six months out from expansion, what benchmarks you’ll hit when you get to that stage and how much extra capital you’ll need to make it happen.” He puts a question mark over the one-third mark he just drew. “In short—and this lesson is for all of you—you can’t just make it up as you go along. Business is too unforgiving for that.” Will stares right at me. “For someone like Maggie, with very high start-up costs and high customer variables, it’s absolutely crucial. Your plan, Maggie, may be the most crucial of all.”
    He’s never called me Maggie in front of the class before. And he’s singling me out. As someone who needs the most help. I think I’m entitled to get my dander up in this circumstance. Why couldn’t he go pick on Mr. Mushroom Pasta Sauce over there? He’s got to buy a whole industrial kitchen and packing facility. That’s got to be more complicated than a coffee shop.
    So now you understand why I stomped down thehallway after Will the minute class was over. “What’s the deal singling me out?”
    â€œMaggie, I…”
    â€œAnd you called me Maggie in class. Forget the Miss Black? All of a sudden it’s Maggie?”
    Will thumps his stack of books down on his office desk. “Very well then, Miss Black, I’ll be more careful in the future.” His eyes darkened over in a split second.
    â€œFine.”
    â€œAnd I did not single you out.”
    â€œYou did. Jerry Davis has the same issues as me. If not more. I didn’t see you pointing at him.”
    â€œI did not point at you. And Jerry Davis has already turned in a comprehensive financial plan. With his first loan application. Unlike you.”
    That was a low blow. “So what on earth is he doing in class?”
    â€œBecause he needs to learn marketing and salesmanship. Unlike you. ”
    Earl Grey must have been captain of the debate team. He just put me in my place and complimented me at the same time. That’s not fair. “I hate that planning stuff. I’m terrible at it. Most of it seems useless to me when you factor in all the stuff than can affect a business like mine.”
    Will simply glares. He could silence a pack of my nephews with a single glance.
    â€œI hate this stuff,” I repeat. “I think you know I hate it. It takes all the faith out it.”
    Will looks both surprised and exasperated. Likehe thinks I’m blaming him—which, of course, I sort of am. “This is business,” he says, his glare softening into something more like concern. “This has nothing to do with faith.”
    â€œYou’re wrong.” In fact, he couldn’t be more wrong.
    â€œAm I?”
    Okay, I wasn’t going to get into this with him, but he’s asking for it. “You read my application. You know this is a coffeehouse with a Christian atmosphere. It has everything to do with faith. You told me on the rugby pitch that you’re a man of faith. You, of all people, should respect the fact that God gave me the vision to open this coffeehouse. I’ve not been able to think about anything else since He gave me this idea. This is God’s plan and I trust Him with the rest of it. Trust, Will. Surely you get that. Trust and faith, even in business. Maybe especially in