I took my laptop and phone and sat down on the couch. Before working, I was going to give myself a solid opportunity to figure out what was going on with Jason… and Lana.
Surprisingly enough, the texts between him and Lana weren’t romantic. At first, I thought maybe I’d misunderstood. But the texts were constant. Obsessive. And Jason asked for a lot of reassurance.
“Are you sure I’m doing okay, Lana? Am I cut out for this?”
Dozens of messages a day. Voice notes. Screen shares. PDFs. Excel files. There were folders on folders, client scripts, marketing guides, sales funnels. Phrases like “pitch psychology” and “closing energy.”
Lana was older, judging by her photo. Mid-forties, maybe. She called herself a “business mentor.” But nothing about what she was selling looked legitimate. Jason had been paying her thousands of dollars for her “services.” $19,000 to be exact. For a coaching program that promised to turn him into an “online millionaire.”
“What the hell is this?” I muttered. “Is this a bloody scheme? Another pyramid scheme? Damn it, Jason.”
The last time Jason had been caught up in this, he had bought five boxes of face serums which were supposedly “liquid gold.” Honestly, other than our family and friends, nobody had bought any of those serums. Eventually, I gave them to everyone at my book club, just eager to get rid of the stock.
“I don’t understand what went wrong, Maya,” he’d muttered. “Everything was perfect… I read the proposals! They were destined to sell! I don’t know what to do!”
“Well, we’re not keeping them,” I said. “We can’t have this type of product just sitting around in the garage.”
He sighed, like it was my problem he was in this position.
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