Chapter 18 - THE YACHT RETURNS
The yacht returned in the strangest way. A charity auction listed a weekend charter on the same vessel, now under different owner and new name.
Grant showed me. “Want to buy it?” I stared. “No.”
Then laughed. Then changed mind.
Not because reclaiming. Because absurd. We bid. Lost.
Good. No forced symbolism.
Then months later, Nora saw a photo of me from news story. “Mommy wet.” I laughed. “Yes.”
“Why?” How do you explain?
“Someone pushed me.” “Bad.”
“Yes.” “Did they say sorry?” “Eventually.” “Okay.”
Children simplify. Then she asked: “Did Daddy push you?” “No.” “Good.”
That was enough. Then I realized I no longer needed story to be secret from family.
Not details now. Someday.
Truth appropriate to age. No false version.
That mattered after seeing Richardson family secrecy. Then I saw Eleanor at industry event.
We nodded. No conversation.
She stood beside actual service staff and said please. Tiny.
Maybe change. Then I spoke on panel about private credit governance.
Someone asked: “Would Northstar invest in Richardson again?” “Yes, if risk-adjusted return justified.”
Audience laughed. I was serious.
Personal history should not automatically control capital. Independent committee would decide.
May you like
Then another asked: “Would you ever date into a portfolio company again?” “No comment.” Huge laugh. Fine.
Then Grant whispered later: “Please don’t.” Agreed.
