Paige

PAIGE

Today is the day. My team has finished their initial assignments and I've put it all together for our presentation to the board and top investors.

I've been practicing every free hour, walking around my apartment reciting and revising what I'll say. Tweaking my slides and printouts until the last minute. The stack of them printed and waiting on my desk for our eight o'clock meeting.

I fan myself in the elevator on the way up, trying to channel my nervous energy into confidence. Although I've had a lot of practice at this, I can't shut it out until I'm in front of them and the presentation has begun. It happens the same way every time.

That's when I will shine.

Shaking out my limbs, I glamour stomp through the office, wrapping the version of me I need to be around myself. Boss bitch extraordinaire.

My armor is thick and stylish, and when I'm greeted with Sabrina's glare, I don't miss a step. The promise of her friendship got me through my first week here, but slowly, she's pulled back and been nasty to me in subtle ways. Something her boss doesn't notice, but as a woman, I see all of the little things she does to undermine me with Henry.

I shake it off and beeline to my office to pick up my presentation supplies. Last night, I set everything out on my desk for an easy grab and only brought the electronic parts home with me to study for today.

But when I step up to my desk, it's clear. No supplies.

Maybe someone moved them to the conference room for me?

Pushing down the rising alarm in my center, I walk three doors down to the conference room where several investors are already waiting. I peek in and wave, giving a quick look around.

No. My materials aren't here either. Avoiding the impending panic attack, I ask if the men there need anything. I'm not sure of their answers, but I nod and send Vanya to grab them coffee and water and whatever else they need.

She's on it like the mini boss she is.

And I return to my office, pacing around my desk for the extra five minutes before I step in front of the board unprepared.

But after a minute, I let the worries settle. There's no time to do anything other than go on with the show.

Tapping on my tablet, I forward all of our prepared packets as PDFs to Henry for him to send on to the investors. He meets me at my office door.

"Hey. Are you ready?"

I suck in a deep breath, and his woodsy scent fills my lungs. "Yup. Did you get my email?"

"I did."

"And you sent it along?"

Henry's brows furrowed. "I did, but I thought you had?—"

"Had. Don't anymore. Don't want to talk about it, let's just get in there and kill it."

He smiles and he looks so dapper in his suit, hair slightly mussed from his fingers. I want to climb him, but I can't entertain that thought.

He escorts me into the conference room and I give them all a demure smile. It's best not to seem so fresh, young, or eager. My presentation is pulled up on the screen, and Henry has Sabrina hand out tablets to the attendees.

Her features are schooled, but she lays down the gauntlet when she meets my gaze. A small smile on her lips before she leaves us.

I welcome them all and jump right in. A little thing like missing packets isn't going to sabotage me.

And they don't. I rock the presentation, showcasing the digital designs submitted as preliminary ideas for the contest we plan to launch in full force once this project is voted on and approved. We have modern color-themed rooms. A classic black and white conference room highlighted with some modern bling. We have bungalows that utilize themes but stay sleek and efficient.

Every one of them creates plenty of photo opportunities. Shareable moments. Places that feel like a spurge for a day or two visit, and others that are meant for longer stays. Big spaces for small families. And someplace that can create a comfortable networking environment for people who can bring their work wherever they please.

"I always brought my work with me, and I don't need a fancy place to do it in," Eli's father grumbles under his breath. Or at least, that's the effect I'm sure he was going for.

I don't even trip. "See, the thing is. You do. You have your high-end office. Your posh house. The comfortable car with a driver. The nice hotel rooms this company already offers. And you have the hotel bar. But that's not where young people hang out anymore. Not to do business anyway."

Planting my hands on my hips, I hit a power pose. It doesn't always work on old, privileged men, but it's one of my best bets. "Young entrepreneurs, successful ones, find interesting places they can show off to others. Places meant to sit and work and maybe share your productivity with each other. Have brainstorming conversations or sit in the corner and sink into your own project."

Senior Mr. Rockwell rolls his eyes.

"And new business owners don't just travel because they need to for business. They can travel, linger and do their work wherever there's a Wi-Fi connection. And most likely, add in some caffeine and pastries. Something pretty. Shareable."

I point to the designs again, clicking through some. "These can't be found anywhere else. You have to go to a specific location and book that room amongst many. It creates scarcity, which increases demand. But you're a savvy businessman, I'm sure I don't have to explain the concept to you."

The red that blooms across that dour man's face is a small reward. I don't mean to be feisty, but I can't stand down. I can't show weakness. Not as a woman. He doesn't need to be a fan. One lost vote won't pop my dreams.

Because I'm good at this. And I know it.

By the time I'm done, everyone else in the room knows it too. They aren't unanimous, but they are the majority when they vote and we've done it.

I shake a couple of hands, exchange a couple of business cards and march out of that room like I'm a busy woman with things to do.

Which I am. I have an entire project to orchestrate. I have to start spending real money, which means a shitload of work before I spend a penny.

Time to go through my spreadsheets, obtain some invoices and schedule some promotions to be able to jump into this headfirst. The rush from a good performance gives me a spring in my step. Confidence is my new lifeblood until my feet slow, my focus narrowing on how Sabrina is turning the corner to return to her desk.

She isn't returning from Henry's office. Or the break room for coffee. Or the bathrooms. The only thing that might interest her in that direction, other than our meeting, is one of my team's desks. I stop at my office door and peek at my desk.

The pile of presentation packets are back on my desk where I left them last night. Like they were never missing.

I narrow my eyes at Sabrina, who hasn't sat, before I go in to inspect them. Other than being set in the opposite direction from how I stacked them there, nothing struck me as out of place. Folding my arms across my stomach, I glare at them.

Ninety-nine percent sure Sabrina is the one who took them. But I have no proof.

Sighing, I take an armful and place the first stack on my couch. I catch another glimpse of her standing at her desk before I return for the second stack. Needing to go around to not knock over my clutter, I pull the second stack against my chest.

Sabrina appears in my doorway, a fake smile on her face. "Oh, you found them. Where were they?"

"Wherever you put them. I know it was you. Taking them before my presentation and sneaking them back onto my desk after." Frankly, I don't have the energy to have a catfight. And I'm just not interested. If she doesn't like me, fine.

But stay out of my way.

"Prove it."

"It's just too bad I nailed it anyway. Isn't it? That's the thing about competent people, we don't let jealous people sabotage us. We pivot."

Red spreads across her porcelain face, features scrunching in frustration. Her hands fist at her sides. "You can't pivot that well every time."

I raise innocent eyebrows at her. "Oh. But I can."

"Miss Zinke," Henry's voice behind her makes Sabrina's spine stiffen, her eyes wide and full of fear.

Slowly, she turns to face him, blinking like she can magic him away.

Dark blue fabric cuts a fine figure—I mean, his figure is fine underneath it all, which helps. But more than that, he radiates power. Those icy blue eyes ready to freeze and shatter her with one blow.

And he does.

"You're fired. Have your desk cleared by lunch and vacate the building."