It’s 6:30pm in London, and one by one, they start to arrive.

“They” are nine sharp, motivated fellow alums from my business school, each with impressive corporate backgrounds and representing many industries:

Insurance, fintech, shipping, talent sourcing, public health, aviation tech.

So. Much. Domain expertise.

All gathered around one table in the private dining room of a posh Sri Lankan restaurant in Shoreditch.

All here to hear my take on leaving corporate and going solo.

And while the expertise in the room was diverse, the underlying mood was common — humility, introspection, curiosity.

Quickly, themes starting opening up:

• What would it look like to go solo?
• What would I even “do”?
• Where would I find my first clients?
• How would I charge?
• How much could I make?
• Could I do this?
• Do I want this?
• Is it “time”?

We talked through as many of these as we could, squeezing in Q&A and cross-table shares as more dishes and drinks kept emerging through the privacy curtain.

And before I knew it, it was 9pm already.

We needed to wrap it up so folks could catch trains home.

So, I thank everyone for coming out.

We pay our bill, we say our goodbyes, and we scatter home across the city.

On my way back to my friend’s flat, a few feelings emerge:

Excitement, from all the new faces and entrepreneurial energy.

Relief, to catch my breath after three hours “on”.

But then, some unease. A mild panic.

Did they get what they came for?

I only gave them a taste!

There’s so much to share.

Hordes of nooks and crannies to explore.

What all did I fail to mention?

But then I remember…they have the book.

Yes, how could I forget?? THE BOOK!

The book is what had prompted the dinner in the first place.

The book was written to be my synthesized, portable POV -- the vehicle that transfers my insights and advice cohesively in a way that sending a list of Lightbulb links never could.

And the book can facilitate that transfer at scale in a way I simply can’t through conversations alone.

Now it’s with them, where it’s supposed to be, doing the job it’s supposed to do.

Perhaps they flipped through it on the way home -- filling in the canvas between the tentpoles I stood up for them over dinner.

Perhaps they’ll act on it soon. Or maybe they’ll internalize it for years.

Either way, it’s literally in their hands now.

And I can’t wait to see where it takes them.

💡

-Wes

P.S. Haven’t picked up The Expert’s Privilege yet? Check out the new reviews on Amazon and grab your copy. It’s received generous high praise from tenured consultants and the solo-curious alike!

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