Page 6 of On The Edge

When you stop trying to make me live up to your unrealistic standards.

“Work hard. Play hard. Isn’t that the motto?” I ask. “Last I checked—not that I need to or anything—I’m allowed to have fun.”

Silence hangs on the line, the smart-ass smile on my face fading with every second it stretches on.

A slow response is never good when it comes to him.

“El patriarca,” he says, referring to my grandfather, my idol, and our affectionate name for him—the patriarch.

“What about him?” I readjust my sunglasses and stop in the middle of the hallway, my chest starting to tighten.

“El patriarca said not to bother coming home to visit before heading to Zandvoort.”

CHAPTER TWO

Maddix

“Wow. Um.” Kevin’s eyebrows knit together as he looks at me from across my cubicle. The CEO of Genesee Capital isn’t exactly used to employees, tiers below him, asking him something like this. “Maddie, is it?”

I’m surprised he’s even that close. “Maddix.”

“Right.” A tight smile. “Yes.” A glance around as if he’s waiting for someone—my manager—to rescue him from my question. Good thing my manager is out sick. “I stopped to ask you to run these folders to the conference room and now you’re . . . I guess I didn’t think you’d be interested in something like this.”

I grit my teeth and smile despite my irritation. “Of course, I am. Isn’t that why I’m here? To learn and—”

“Sure, but . . .” He scratches the side of his head as he angles it and narrows his eyes at me.

It was ballsy to out and out ask the CEO of the company if I could join the big meeting every intern here is talking about in hushed tones. It’s one thing to be hired by a company as a low-level staffer tasked with every job no one else wants while trying to gain experience in branding and marketing. It’s a whole other thing to request to be in on one of the biggest deals this company has ever facilitated.

While it’s expected for my male counterparts to request to take part in events like this, it’s quite different when one of us females do, as is quite apparent by the look on Kevin’s face.

Well . . . guess there’s a first time for everything. And that first time is right now.

I’m not going to further any part of my career by being satisfied with taking the back seat. Isn’t that the realization I had come to last night as I sat across from Michael? That I was nowhere near where I had planned to be at this point in my life?

I love him, but not in that soul-owning, heart-fulfilling way I thought love was supposed to be. I enjoyed my work, but felt like I was on the hamster wheel, continuously chasing my tail, with no upward growth in sight. I adored my town and where I grew up in the outskirts of Austin, but it was over a thousand miles away from Manhattan where all the top opportunities to become a branding or creative manager are located.

I’d marked today for action. I’m acting.

“You’ve never taken interest in this sort of thing before, so why start now?” Kevin asks.

This sort of thing? As in the reason I’m here to learn and gain experience?

I blink several times as if it’s going to make his comment make sense. For a savvy, forward-thinking CEO, who I do happen to like, sometimes I think he’s so busy with what’s in front of him, he can’t see anything else around him.

He’s not dense, he’s just . . . a man.

“Kevin, this is what I’m here for at Genesee. To learn the marketing aspect inside and out and grow so eventually I can move up the ladder.”

He looks out over the dozen or so cubicles of who we call the first years—me, being one of them—and I can see the indecision coloring his expression.

“A lot of people are wanting in on this meeting.”

“I know. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“I’ve already assembled a team,” he says and checks his watch.

“What does one more person hurt? I’ll sit along the wall. Observe only.”