As I hang up the phone, Michelle walks into my office, like she felt my despair through the glass wall. She launches straight into business, though her short bob and familiar knee-length pleated skirt and white shirt make her look more like a student than a woman of twenty-five.
I drift in and out of the torrent of updates she’s firing off. From up here, you can’t tell that the front of the building looked like a war zone a week ago. The shattered windows have beenreplaced, along with the entrance doors, where Logan’s military-grade security system is now in place.
“I managed to squeeze in meetings with every board member before the general assembly,” Michelle says briskly. “You’ve got forty minutes with each.”
It looks like nothing happened here, but the empty, echoing floors and the gaping pit in my stomach tell a different story. Everybody’s working from home for the foreseeable future, and security’s been doubled at the other facilities. Shutting them down would paralyze operations, and right now we can’t afford it.
For a split second, when I walked in this morning, I half expected to see Dad in my chair, barking orders. He was a force to be reckoned with in times of crisis.
Even with all the redecoration Eliza and I did, it will forever be his office. Just as I remember him, sitting at his desk, scribbling in his black notebook, larger than life.
He pushed Carter to his breaking point and pawned me off on Mom to mold me as she pleased. Some would say he was a bad parent. I’ve been battling with the weight of that truth since his death.
“Daniels has fifteen minutes extra,” Michelle says, pulling me back to the present. “You know how he is—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Jackie.” My assistant sounds worried. “Are you sure you’re ready for all this?”
I shift my attention to her, forcing myself to flash a reassuring smile. “My phone’s been going off at all hours for days. I’m already warmed up.”
Michelle nods, sympathy etched on her features. I’m lucky to have her in my corner. A hard worker, she has my back in any situation. I know she’s my employee, but she’s also become a good friend.
“OK.” She frowns slightly and hesitates for a beat. “Channel Five’s crew will be here tomorrow morning to set everything up for the interview.”
Not one I’m looking forward to. “Great.”
“Briefing points are already in your media cloud.” She taps her tablet. “I had to bribe one of Diane’s interns to get hold of some of the questions they didn’t want to share pre-interview.”
This time, my smile is genuine. “My own operative. Well done.”
She knows about my rules.
I don’t give the media the chance to spin the narrative and paint me in any shade of reckless. Everything about my public image is calculated, down to how I dress.
I never drink alcohol in public.
And I never go out with men who haven’t been thoroughly vetted for skeletons. Adam was the only exception. Thank God that never got out.
Michelle blushes, and for a second, she looks impossibly young. And tired.
“How’s your brother?” I ask gently.
Her finger pauses mid-swipe, a veil of sadness draping over her features. “Not much has changed. My parents are getting old. We might have to move him to a long-term care facility.” She tucks a strand of shiny dark hair behind her ear. “But the support group meetings help. Hearing how other families are coping.”
“Let me know if I can help.” It’s not an empty offer. I hope she knows me well enough by now to accept it if she needs to.
She looks like she wants to say something, shifting from one foot to the other, but shakes her head, laughing it off. “Just…don’t fire me anytime soon.”
“Never. You’re my rock.” It’s something we’ve talked about often. Her potential. The way she keeps everything runningwhile doubting herself every step of the way. “Have you thought any more about the opening in the communications department?”
Her shoulders sag. “You know I don’t have the qualifications.”
“Says the woman who keeps me afloat on a daily basis.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She laughs again, but it feels forced. Her gaze drops to the floor.
“Look at me, Michelle.” I wait until she does. “You have a good head on your shoulders. With a little training, you’d thrive there. You deserve more…if you want it.”
