After Robert left, three more people approached. Two other CEOs and a director from a technology investment firm.
Word had spread through the party that the owner of Mountain Crest Resort was not merely a silent investor. He was present. He was the birthday host’s son. He was the man Thomas Richardson had tried to exclude.
The irony was not lost on anyone.
At nine-thirty, my father found me on the terrace.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Making a spectacle at my birthday party.”
“I walked into a party at my own property. You made it a spectacle by trying to have me removed.”
“I didn’t know you owned the resort.”
“Would it have mattered?”
He said nothing.
“Would you have treated me differently if you had known?”
Still nothing.
“The answer is yes,” I said. “You would have treated me differently because you only respect success you can see and understand. You respect Victoria’s surgeon title. You respect James’s law partnership. But you never respected what I built because you didn’t understand it.”
“I don’t understand computer stuff.”
“It’s not about computers, Dad. It’s about respect. I have been building businesses for ten years. I have been successful for ten years. You never once asked for details. You labeled it an internet hobby and dismissed it.”
“I’m your father. You should have made me understand.”
“No. You’re my father. You should have tried to understand.”
He looked out at the mountains.
“I received three business cards tonight from people asking about your company. Robert Chen wants a meeting. Patricia mentioned you were featured in a business magazine.”
