Who’d want to read that kind of stuff? He grinned. People who don’t want their companies to implode. So, I tried.
I turned one of my longer rants into a LinkedIn article. The invisible hands that actually hold companies together. I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a few likes from old co-workers.
But within a week, it had 20,000 views. CEOs were commenting. Founders were messaging. I got invited to speak on a podcast hosted by a small business think tank.
It wasn’t fame, but it was something I hadn’t felt in years. Respect. And then the offer started coming. Advisory gigs, short-term turnarounds.
A startup in Chicago wanted me to design their back-end logistics. A sustainability brand in Austin flew me out to consult on integrating ethical sourcing practices into their warehouse model. I wasn’t rich, not yet. But for the first time in my adult life, I felt free.
Still, I couldn’t shake the bitterness. Every wind felt hollow, like I was trying to prove something to people who weren’t watching. Every time I hit a new milestone, I’d wonder if dad had noticed. If Sandra was still chirping about how Nathan has such a modern approach, if Nathan even understood what he’d taken from me, but they weren’t watching because they were too busy drowning.
The first crack appeared when I got a call from Melissa again. This time, she sounded panicked. “Aaron,” she whispered, “I think we’re in trouble.” “What happened?” Payroll bounced twice. I sat up straight.
What do you mean bounced? I mean, half of us didn’t get paid and no one’s answering questions. Nathan hasn’t been in the office all week. Sandra’s been calling everyone negative if they ask too many questions.
And your dad? He’s weirdly quiet. That didn’t surprise me. Dad always disappeared when things went south.
What about the CFO? She quit 2 weeks ago, replaced by some guy Nathan met at a crypto meetup. I nearly choked. You’re kidding.
I wish I was. I thanked her and hung up. Then I checked the company’s site again. Still flashy, still polished, but the job listings were gone.
The client logos at the bottom were fewer. And the contact us page now redirected to a generic form with a warning that response times might be delayed due to restructuring. I knew what that meant, so I waited one more week. Then came the email.
Not to me, of course, to the public. a carefully worded press release announcing that the company was pivoting its business model to focus on digital branding and community development which translated from startup speak meant we have no money and no clue what we’re doing within 48 hours I got three messages from former clients one was livid one was confused one just said now I understand why you left but none of that compared to what I got next a call from my father I stared at the screen for a full minute before answering.
When I did, I didn’t say anything. I just let him speak first. “Aaron,” he said, and his voice already sounded different. “Smaller, I know it’s been a while.” I didn’t respond.