Tearing into his sandwich, Oliver replies, “On his way – caught the red-eye back last night.”
The sound of footsteps hurrying toward the conference room distracts me from my thoughts. I turn my head in time to see Mr. Douchebag-at-the-Door waltz in.
He appears freshly showered and cleaned up, he’s lost the baseball cap, and his hair is slicked back and tidy. He is wearing a FIRE polo, the same one I have on, and khakis. He looks every bit the polished professional. Not the troll-like guard who leaves people sweating in the sun with their arms full that he is.
“Sorry I’m late,” he announces, not seeming especially contrite, and takes the seat opposite me.
It isn’t until he sits down that our eyes lock. I catch a brief expression of shock before he composes himself. His dark brown eyes turn stormy, as if he still doesn’t quite believe that I belong here. As ifI’man intruder. He shoots Oliver a look.
“Declan,” my uncle begins, “this is my new executive assistant, Charlie Ross.”
I smile and nod at the various executives now seated round the table. My title may be executive assistant, but my primary role is to help Oliver do his job. Today that was to finish my onboarding and make sure the executives had lunch. Tomorrow it could be tracking down delayed event incident reports or getting a shipment of finisher medals through customs.Keep the plates spinningis what Oliver told me. After helping my dad as his assistant coach for years, I knew I could tackle this too.
“Everyone, Charlie is my new right hand. Anything you need from me goes through her first.”
I can still feel Declan’s gaze boring into me. When I lift my eyes to his, I want to shout,I told you so!at him, but that wouldn’t exactly be professional. Instead, I say, “I think we met downstairs earlier.”
He swallows, and for a moment I feel the same exhilaration I used to get when I passed someone on the track. But that feeling is quickly replaced with disappointment. The person who didn’t let me in the building is a senior-level member of the team.Declan Davidson. I recognize the name from the empty office opposite my desk. He’ll be sitting across from me every day. Silently judging my ability to do basic tasks, I’m sure. Seated beneath the most befitting quote:Quitters never earn a line in the history books.
“Welcome aboard,” Declan mutters, his words insincere.
The meeting commences and beneath my pasted-on smile, I feel myself deflate. All that confidence and excitement for starting a job at FIRE seeping away. I contemplate throwing in the towel, telling Uncle Ollie this was a terrible idea, but then the quote above my desk becomes an epitaph. And Declan, who clearly thinks I don’t belong here, would be proven correct. How long until they find out anyways?
That I’m the girl who forfeited her spot to race at the World Games in Auckland four years ago. I’m the girl who took an assistant coaching job and had to see the looks of pity on everyone’s faces. The girl who quit said coaching job because she couldn’t stomach watching her dad coach another team to victory at this summer’s World Games when it wasn’t something she’d ever be able to achieve herself.
Charlie Ross:the girl who quit.
And if I leave now, if I let even one person here see me back down, then it becomes true. I need to prove to this team – including Declan Davidson – and more importantlymyself, that I can do this.
I will not be the girl who quit. Not anymore.
4
DECLAN
Well, this doesn’t happen often. But I was wrong. I don’t plan on admitting it aloud any time soon.
I grimace at the memory of leaving Oliver’s new assistant locked outside in the midday heat, then try to cover it by cracking my knuckles.
She should have clarified who she was. And Oliver should have let me and Ian interview her as well. There were a lot of mistakes along the way that led to this situation.
Ian gives his update: “Our new servers have been installed and the team is making sure we have more than enough capability for all our events this season.” The need for new serversdoessupport the race-day app that will allow loved ones to track their athletes on course. They also support the new massive firewall we had to install after a series of hacks into our secret database compromised our encryption. At least Ian’s update doesn’t require him to lie or carefully place his words. Nothing the new assistant can’t hear without revealing our clandestine operations.
Charlie is across from me, taking notes. She is focused.That’s a positive. I assess her once more. Instead of seeing her as a potential threat, how could she be as a coworker? A possible asset for our covert operations? But first, can we even trust her?
She has changed her attire. The forest green looks good on her. Not that I care what she looks like.
Finn is boasting about the bottom line: “The latest merchandise campaign has boosted quarterly revenue.”Good. We need all the extra revenue we can get if we are going to combat the Order.
Each of the executives provides their update. I’m debating how to handle mine. We have sensitive items to address and with a new person on the team who has not been read in on our covert operations this will get tricky.
“Declan, can you update us on your trip to Helsinki?” Oliver prompts.
I relay the same information I told him over the phone to the rest of the team. The permits for our midnight finish have been secured.
“Are all the documents signed?” Ian asks.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlie’s head pop up. She must have caught this question. Because to the uninitiated it sounds like Ian wasn’t listening to my update and is asking a redundant question. But I know what he is really asking. He is confirming the peace treaty.
