CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Susan Hayes finished the last bite of her banana and dropped the peel into the small waste basket beside her desk.
The salad bowl from lunch sat empty next to her laptop, and she made a mental note to take it back to the main house before she forgot about it.
Her home office tended to accumulate dishes if she wasn't careful.
She returned her attention to the contract on her screen, reading through the terms one more time before sending it to the client.
Leadership transition consulting had turned out to be more lucrative than she had ever imagined.
In the eighteen months since launching Hayes Consulting Group, she had worked with six major corporations and had three more contracts pending.
Her main office downtown was professional and polished, perfect for client meetings.
But this space at the back of her house was where she did most of her actual work.
The office had its own entrance from the side yard, which meant clients could come and go without disturbing her family.
Not that there was much family to disturb anymore.
Her husband traveled for work more often than not, and her daughter was away at college.
Most days, Susan had the house to herself.
She saved the contract and pulled up the business plan she had been revising earlier that morning.
The document outlined her services, her pricing structure, and her unique approach to helping companies navigate periods of executive change.
It was a solid plan, one that had proven successful in practice.
But looking at it now, Susan felt that familiar twinge of guilt in her chest.
She had first heard concepts like these discussed in the Second Act Success program two years ago.
Not this exact approach, but similar ideas about identifying corporate pain points and positioning yourself as the solution.
Crawford had walked them through case studies of successful consulting businesses, had shown them how to package their expertise into marketable services.
Susan closed the business plan and leaned back in her chair.
She had developed her own unique approach.
She had taken what she learned in the program and built on it, added her own experience from twenty years in corporate human resources, created something that was entirely hers.
The guilt was unnecessary. Lots of people learned concepts in training programs and then applied them in their own ways.
That was how business worked.
She stood up and stretched, feeling the stiffness in her lower back from sitting too long.
The office was small but comfortable, with built-in bookshelves on one wall and a window that looked out over her backyard.
The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, creating patterns of light and shadow on the hardwood floor.
She was reaching for her phone to check the time when the doorbell rang.
She paused, surprised. She wasn't expecting anyone, and most people who came to see her professionally used the main downtown office. It was very rare than any clients or soon-to-be-clients came to her home office.
The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
Susan walked through the small hallway that connected her office to the main house.
She could see a figure through the frosted glass of the side door, the one that led directly to her office entrance.
A woman, from what she could tell, though the glass distorted the details.
She opened the door and found a woman standing on the small concrete landing outside.
She appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, with dark hair that hung loose around her shoulders.
She wore jeans and a simple sweater, and she held her purse in front of her with both hands like a shield.
"Can I help you?" Susan asked.
"You’re Susan Hayes, right?" the woman asked. Her voice was quiet, almost timid.
"Yes, I am."
"I'm sorry to just show up like this." The woman looked down at her purse, then back up at Susan.
"I got your name from a friend. She said you help businesses with transitions. I was wondering if you're accepting new clients right now. I’m in sort of a pickle and… well, honestly it’s sort of an emergency and I could use some guidance. "
Susan glanced back toward her office, at the work still waiting on her desk.
She normally didn't take walk-in clients at her home office anyway.
But something about the woman's demeanor made Susan hesitate.
She looked nervous, uncertain, like someone who had worked up the courage to come here and might lose it at any moment.
"What kind of transition are you dealing with?" Susan asked.
"I'm trying to start a consulting business," the woman said. "But I'm not sure how to structure it or how to price my services and the timeline I’m on… well, it’s a real bitch. I heard you're really good at helping people figure that out."
Susan had never advertised herself as someone who helped with business launches. Her focus was on established corporations dealing with executive changes. But she seemed genuine in her need for help, and Susan had been in a similar position not that long ago.
"I don't usually meet clients here at my home office," Susan said. "But I have a few minutes. Come on in."
The woman's face brightened with relief. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate this."
Susan stepped back and held the door open wider. The woman walked past her into the small hallway, looking around with interest at the framed degrees on the wall and the professional photos Susan had hung there.
"My office is just through here," Susan said, leading the way back down the hall. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.”
“Oh, that’s because I didn’t give it.”
Curious, Susan turned around. She had just enough time to notice the strange, silver thing in the woman’s hand. Not a knife but something shorter… and then it was coming right at her and Susan barely had time to react at all.