She’s a little taller than Theodora, though still average height. Five-four, maybe five-six. Olive skin, dark hair, and eyes so green they almost look unreal. Striking, in a way that demands notice.
“Colin Montgomery,” I say, offering my hand. “Welcome to Montgomery Clifford & Co.”
Her grip is firm, though delicate. There’s a brief pause, a flicker of hesitation. Her eyes never leaving mine, as if she’s gathering herself before she speaks.
“Maya Fisher,” she says finally. “It’s an honor to work for your company.”
I start to release her hand, but she holds on—tighter, like she’s reluctant to let go. I tilt my head, studying her, and gently pull my hand free.
The realization hits her a second later. She lowers her hand, looking down before meeting my eyes again.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I think I’m just a little nervous. I really wanted this job. I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.”
“Colin, don’t scare her before she’s even started,” Theodora teases, cutting through the tension.
I allow myself a faint smile. “So, Maya. Do you have prior EA experience?”
I never ask where they studied. Not everyone gets the chance at an Ivy League education. I did, but I don’t need to remind people I graduated from Yale. My achievements speak louder than any diploma hanging on a wall.
She names the company where she interned, a respected one.
“Impressive,” I say, meaning it. “And now you’ll be working for the best M&A firm in New York.”
Her lips curve into a modest smile, but her eyes stay on me. Locked on me.
I ask whether she’s met Jonathan yet, the company’s VP and a close friend since high school. He’s still in a meeting, Theodora explains, but they’ll stop by his office later. A few polite exchanges follow before she gestures toward the door.
When Maya extends her hand again, I keep mine in my pockets and give a small nod instead. “I’ll walk you out.”
She hesitates, then drops her hand.
Just before the door closes, she turns back to me.
“It was a pleasure, Mr. Montgomery.”
I nod once. “Likewise.”
The door shuts, and I catch myself lingering on the way she looked at me as it closed. A quick shake of my head dismisses the flicker of unease, and I return to my desk.
The last two weeks have been much of the same. Endless work, little room to breathe.
Between new opportunities, clients demanding attention, and deals that refuse to close themselves, the days blur together. And always, the bureaucracy, the tedious, inevitable weight of running one of the country’s most sought-after merger and acquisition firms.
Some nights I make it home in time for dinner, or find Ceci and the kids still awake. Most nights, I don’t.
They’re used to it. They always have been.
I tell myself that’s just how it had to be, that every sacrifice serves a purpose. Still, there are moments when I wish I’d been there more. For the milestones I missed, the conversations that never happened, for Ceci. But wishing doesn’t change a thing. And guilt? That’s a luxury I learned to outgrow a long time ago. Ethan is sixteen now. Alicia’s twelve. They’re doing fine.
At forty-three, there isn’t much I regret.
Everything I’ve built has meaning. It’s a legacy, something solid they can one day look at and know it was for them.
Lately, another constant has found its way into my days.
Maya. The new junior executive assistant. Somehow, she’s always there. In hallways, in meetings, in passing. There’s something about her, as if she notices more than she should—the way her eyes never leave mine, even during a brief nod.
Three soft knocks pull me out of my thoughts.
