Brad sat on the edge of her desk. “After the contract’s signed, absolutely. You’ve earned a vacation.”
“It’s not a vacation. I’m taking family leave. Starting tomorrow.”
His smile faltered. “You can’t be serious.”
“My grandmother’s turning eighty and running a business alone. My brother has to leave, and there’s no one else.”
“Meg.” Brad lowered his voice as if sharing a difficult truth with a child. “We all have family obligations. The difference between associates and vice presidents is knowing where to draw boundaries.”
Something in his tone—the patronizing certainty—sparked a flare of defiance in Meg. “My grandmother has run this restaurant for over fifty years. It’s her life.”
“This isn’t about your grandmother. It’s about your commitment.” Brad straightened, his voice hardening. “The committee votes in three weeks. If you walk out now, what message does that send?”
Meg’s gaze drifted to her tablet, where her calendar displayed back-to-back meetings for the next two weeks. Then to the sunset painting on the wall.
“I’m not walking out. I’m requesting family leave while continuing to work remotely. The presentation is done, the materials delivered. I can handle client communications from anywhere.”
“And the daily strategy meetings? The creative reviews? The committee interviews?” Brad shook his head. “Your timing couldn’t be worse.”
“I’m aware.” Meg began gathering items from her desk—laptop, tablet, phone charger. “But I need to be in Laguna tomorrow.”
Brad watched her pack, incredulity gradually giving way to resignation. “You’re really doing this.”
“I’m handling both responsibilities,” Meg corrected him, sliding her laptop into its case. “I can finish up this committee meeting. I’ll fly out first thing in the morning and call into the debrief from the airport.”
“And if the committee interprets this as lack of commitment?”
Meg paused, the weight of years of sacrifice pressing on her shoulders. “Then they misunderstand what commitment means.”
Brad’s expression suggested he thought she was making a catastrophic mistake, but he merely nodded. “I’ll tell them you had a family emergency. Try to minimize the damage.”
“Thank you.” Meg shouldered her bag. “I’ll email you my flight details and be available by phone. The San Clemente presentation was perfect—they’re going to sign.”
She fielded the committee’s questions, outlined thenext steps, and ducked into her office to grab her things.
As she walked toward the elevator, Brad called after her. “Meg?” She turned. “Whatever this beach place is—I hope it’s worth it.”
A memory flashed through her mind—sitting at the Beach Shack counter as a child, watching Margo flip perfect grilled cheese sandwiches while telling stories about the shells embedded in the ceiling.
“It’s just a little grilled cheese stand,” she said. “But it’s been in our family for fifty years.”
In the Uber to her apartment, Meg booked a flight, emailed her assistant with instructions, and sent a message to Tyler:On my way.
She was putting her career on hold for a grilled cheese stand. No. For Margo.
CHAPTER FOUR
Meg leaned her forehead against the airplane window, watching the Southern California coastline come into view. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been preparing for the most important presentation of her career. Now she was flying toward the place she’d spent years distancing herself from.
Her laptop was still open, San Clemente email half-written, waiting to be dealt with.
Brad had texted twice already.
Committee meeting at 4. Will tell them you had family emergency. Need timeline for yourreturn.
And then:
Reeves called. Concerned about remote management. Need to reassure him ASAP.
