Sailing at Sunset - Cindi Madsen
Chapter One
A happy ping echoed through the cubicle, and Danae’s heart beat faster. This was the moment of truth, and no matter the outcome, it meant doing one of her favorite things in the world: crossing off a to-do list item.
In glitter pen, of course.
People who thought organization was boring simply weren’t doing it right. Tingles coursed through Danae as she flipped open her planner and found the goal digger sticker she’d placed next to the neatly written “Meeting with Mr. Barton.”
Red was a power color, so she decided to go bold and use it to check the box.
Apprehension twisted her gut as she smoothed a hand down her hair. Thanks to the humidity in Newport, Rhode Island, she’d given up straightening her dirty-blond locks long ago, embracing loose curls as her signature style. She bent and checked her teeth in her computer monitor, ensuring that none of the raspberry seeds from her smoothie had gotten stuck.
This wasn’t just a meeting. It was the meeting. The one where she found out whether or not she’d be the new Chief Marketing Officer. If it went well, she’d be able to flip to the very front page of her planner and cross off one of the long-term goals she’d made six months ago—at the very beginning of the year.
That’d call for glittery orange ink, the color of success.
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There was a difference between confidence and presumptuousness, and Danae knew better than to rely on anything that wasn’t a certainty.
As she pushed to her feet, her hand automatically went to the golden Athena charm on her necklace. Although she wasn’t superstitious—people were responsible for making their own luck—she rubbed the trinket. Mostly out of habit and because it reminded her of her mother.
Mom’s obsession with Greek mythology was how Danae had ended up with her name. Dad had been unsure at first, but Mom mentioned the part of the tale in which Danae and her son, Perseus, were set adrift at sea, had help from Poseidon, and found refuge on a fishing island.
Everything came down to sailing and fishing with Dad. A bittersweet smile curved her lips, residual grief drifting up and squeezing at her chest. He’d passed away nearly two decades ago but missing him occasionally caught her off-guard.
Danae readjusted her chunky black frames, inching them up her nose, and then tugged at the red cardigan covering her black and white dress. In a sea of sensible, her red patent leather pumps were her one impractical indulgence.
The clack, clack, clack they made on the beautiful wooden floors of the Barton Boating Company office made her feel more confident, her chin automatically hitching higher. Each step was a punctuation, a reminder she could be firm and powerful, even if it’d taken her thirty-six years to get there.
Her pace faltered as she passed by Mark, who glanced up as she neared his desk. Like a deer in ex-boyfriend headlights she froze, and awkwardness crowded the air. Silly, considering they’d broken up before Christmas of last year.
Mark skimmed a hand over his trim, sandy brown hair, as if ensuring each strand was still in place. Naturally they all were, much like his suit, tie, and shirt, which appeared to be right out of a glossy magazine ad. “Best of luck to you on your meeting, Danae,” he said, and while she searched for any hint of disingenuity, she came up blank.
Yeah, the other person up for the promotion was none other than her ex. Since Mark had dumped her out of the blue seven months ago, they’d done an odd sort of dance at the office, following the boundaries he’d made: no personal talk at work, always use a polite tone, and avoid being alone in a room if possible so they could remain amicable.
The guy loved his boundaries—namely ones that prevented people from getting too close. He had always been better at repressing his emotions, too, whereas she’d worn hers on her sleeve. Now she played things closer to the chest. “Thank you, Mark. To you as well.”
“…been doing it this way for five years. Our target market doesn’t care if their nail polish matches the boat.” Paige’s voice drifted over to them, and Danae peeked over the top of Mark’s workstation to see Vanessa, Barton’s social media manager, standing next to Paige, the head of PR.
The two women were opposites on every side of the spectrum. Paige was young and petite, with red hair and a fair complexion, and