“But you miscalculated.” She smiled. “People like you throw money at a problem and expect it to right itself. But at the heart of that method is a lack of vision. Money can’t go anywhere without vision.” She took a liberal gulp of his whiskey. “So instead of muting me, you’ve amplified my message.” She looked pleased with herself, and pointed to the whiskey, “I like this better.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not against your message. I’m against your method. It’s all vision, all luck, all movement. It’s a bull with no cock.”

“Help me navigate your masculinist analogy. By no cock, you mean without . . .” Liza raised her brow.

Dorsey met her eyes. “Power.” He played with the mug in his hand. “Force. Weight.” He finished her smoky cocktail and ordered her another whiskey and himself another Mexican Sunset a fuego. “Let me give you an example. I was given this job with no real qualifications or desire to lead the company.” He settled into his chair. Liza took long looks at him, and the color rose high on his cheeks. He could get used to her attention.

“Sounds like falling up.”

“I know to you that makes me sound like even more of an asshole, but I’ve never seen myself as CEO of anything. After I joined the Peace Corps, I saw firsthand that clumsy development organizations did very little. Idealism does not work.” The waitstaff returned with their drinks but placed the Mexican Sunset in front of Liza and the whiskey neat in front of Dorsey. Honest mistake. When Dorsey moved to switch them, Liza took a small sip of hers, then slid the drink over. He followed suit and took a sip of the whiskey and placed it in front of her. It felt like a kind of truth ritual. The warmth in his chest was definitely just the whiskey.

“You know what works?” he continued. “Money. Cold hard cash changes circumstances—nothing else. My mother’s foundation is tied to the strength of Pemberley. I would hate to see that work ruined. It helped me, my brother, and my sister. It can help a thousand more like us if I keep my eye on the prize. Without money, vision is impossible. Thus, my vision has power behind it.”

“Wow, I got a ‘thus’ out of you. Well, my vision isn’t a bull. It’s . . . just a nice cow, but it still has power. It’s got a womb and udders.” Dorsey nearly spit out his drink. “Don’t you dare laugh! I mean it. I want to build a coalition and create something together with the community—to nurture ideas, create a self-sustaining model. Think about how sustainable your model is. How long will the board pay for the WCO’s entire operation? A cow can provide milk to all the calves she births. At some point you will have to build and create.”