I outgrew those flimsy molds before graduating from college. A narrow lane in financial consulting didn’t hold my interest. Why settle for less, when the potential for more was waiting at my fingertips? The old man wore bitterness as a second skin when I refused to be corralled as his successor. My younger brother willingly took my place and appears rather satisfied with his mundane career. If only our dad could see what we’ve accomplished in his absence. As if that would somehow appease him.
Severing his influence that dictated my choices allowed me to prosper. Adding my seeds to another company’s pot is how I continue to expand my empire. The potential of a fresh deal gets my blood pumping faster. There’s something to be said about the rich being overly enthusiastic to get richer. Greed isn’t bad, unless it rules over principle. That’s not my problem. I press the direct line to Walt.
He answers within seconds. “Yes, Mr. Winters?”
“Get the jet secured for a flight to Minneapolis. I need to be there by tomorrow.”
The typing from his keyboard clicks down the line. “Anything else?”
“Ground transportation.”
More tapping that suggests my demands are being executed. “Consider it done.”
I disconnect without another word. He’s capable of managing the details and doesn’t expect a coddling farewell. A glance at my desk reminds me of the paperwork yet to be completed—or started for that matter. The cycle is an endless loop, but idle hands have never done me any favors.
That doesn’t mean I enjoy being constantly buried. Tonight could’ve been designated to pleasure and relief. Instead, I’ll be stuck in traffic heading to O’Hare with the other miserable fools.
These solar panels better pay off, or Jordan’s ass will be removed from the roster of calls I accept.
I tap my pen to the same erratic bouncing as my knee. Waiting for this meeting—whether it reveals a spike or plateau—is scratching along my already short fuse. That phrase about watching paint dry has never been more accurate. When I glance at my boss’s closed door for the umpteenth time, Olivia’s glare is waiting for me.
She makes a point of cutting her gaze to the offending sound, which is still rhythmically rapping against my desk. “Do you mind? Some of us are trying to do our jobs.”
I wince and yank the pen out of sight. “Sorry. I’m a bit nervous.”
Olivia rolls her eyes and returns to whatever task I interrupted. Not that I can blame her for the glower and gloom in this instance. I’m annoying myself with this jittery behavior. That doesn’t stop me from wrinkling my nose at her rude demeanor, even if it’s expected at this point. Many of my fellow real estate brokers are pissed that I’ve climbed the ladder faster and more efficiently than them. Some have been here twice as long, but haven’t made their mark yet. The corporate world isn’t made for wimps and slackers. I’d allow guilt to trickle in if they were nicer about their envy.
Vince whips open his door, effectively cutting off those wayward musings. His authoritative presence ripples across the station of cubicles clumped in our otherwise open floorplan. I flip my mindset to become the calm professional I’m known as. When his hard stare lands on me, I’m ready and waiting. He makes a sweeping gesture into his office. “Can I see you for a moment, Vannah?”
This is it. Whatever he has to tell me could boost or belittle my career.
“Yes, of course.” I don’t let the nerves quiver my muscles as I stand and walk toward him.
“Take a load off.” Vince motions to the empty chairs in front of his desk.
I lower onto the seat in an elegant display of poise and confidence. A dynamite combo. My exhale is slow, rallying against the pounding on my ribs. “I’m hoping you have good news for me.”
Beating around the bush isn’t my style.
His loose chuckle lets me know we’re on the same page. That eases a sliver of coiled tension from my shoulders. “I always appreciate your direct focus.”
“That’s what earns me the big bucks.” I fold my hands in my lap, attempting not to fidget. The sugary scent of victory already infuses the bland air. Taking a long whiff is a reflex I don’t bother denying myself.
“Yes,” he agrees. “You’ve only been with us for a year and are already making memorable impressions. Of the best variety.”
I bob my head, trying to rein in the bubbles of excitement fizzing in my belly. “Thank you, sir.