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She puts her head in her hands and walks toward the door, preparing to open it. It seems she has misunderstood the pictures of Addison and me in my office.
I know I don’t have to explain myself, but a strange feeling of compassion drives me to do it nevertheless.
“Please don’t run,” I say with a laugh, grabbing her by the arm. She turns and lifts her gaze hesitantly.
“First of all, the school usually contacts our nanny since she's the one who handles pick-ups. But Megan took a sick day today and will be back tomorrow,” I say, unable to stop myself.
“I'm so sorry for upsetting you like this. I truly didn't mean anything by it,” she mumbles, embarrassed.
“Don't worry about it. There's no way for you to know this,” I reply. “My wife passed away after giving birth to Addison. It was a challenging time, and I don’t like talking about it.”
“That must have been hard,” Ana says in a low voice. “Addison probably asks about her all the time.”
Ana's words resonate with me, and I appreciate her understanding.
“Addison asks about her mother from time to time. It's a delicate topic, and I try my best to answer her questions.”
“How old did you say she is?” Ana asks softly.
“Twelve.” I smile at her. “But sometimes it feels like she's going on twenty.”
There's something about Ana that makes me want to share, as if my well-being depended on divulging what I knew and how I felt.
“Well, now that you’re in the know, please excuse me,” I say. “I need to pick up the very person I've been gushing about.”
I hurriedly leave and call Tony from the elevator, confirming that he will be waiting outside the building. The drive to the school feels agonizingly slow, but when we finally arrive, I rush to the nurse's office without wasting a second.
As I make my way there, my recent conversation with Ana weighs heavily on my mind. I can't help but feel a pang of regret for keeping the project she suggested on the backburner for now. The Indigenous Initiative project that I’m presenting to the board is intended to facilitate the acquisition of a new pipeline, a decision pushed by my father. It's a situation where I'm being compelled to do something I'm uncertain about and deceive someone who doesn't deserve it.
Shaking off those thoughts, my focus shifts entirely to Addison. “I'm here, pumpkin. Daddy's here,” I say with a reassuring tone as I scoop her into my arms. Despite nearing her teenage years, she curls up in my embrace, seeking comfort. After signing her out for the day and receiving instructions from the school nurse, I bring my precious daughter home to take care of her.
CHAPTER11
ANA
Humming to myself,I check my bank balance on my way to work. Seeing my first paycheck from Sanders International, I realize that I've been immersed in the corporate world for a solid two weeks. Surprisingly, I haven't turned into a stone statue or transformed into a flying monkey, and I'm proud that my core values remain intact.
My thoughts of returning to entrepreneurship have been pushed aside over the past couple of weeks, as I have immersed myself in the blockchain energy trading project. On top of it, I’ve been enjoying working with Brando. While he’s undeniably physically attractive, it's the small things in his quietest moments that truly captivate me.
“Ana, do you have plans this Saturday afternoon?” Brando asks, leaning on my desk and revealing a more relaxed side to his typically composed demeanor. There's a hint of happiness in his hazel eyes that catches my attention.
“That depends on what you have in mind,” I respond, well aware of my own plans to participate in a protest against yet another pipeline.
“The company is on the verge of closing a complex and successful project… the Indigenous Initiative,” Brando reveals, wearing an enigmatic expression on his face.
“You mean the top-secret project that you've kept me in the dark about, all under the code name 'II'?” I blurt out, a mixture of curiosity and frustration in my voice.
He smiles. “That's the one.”
“How can I agree to celebrate something when I don't even know what it entails?” I ponder aloud.
“I don't think you're going to like it, but the 'II' project is a pipeline development. Nevertheless, I want to invite you to lunch to celebrate its closing,” he offers cautiously.
“That’s the secret project?” I exclaim, the shock reverberating through my bones as I realize that this is the very thing I plan to protest this Saturday. “You know how much I’m against it. Why would I want to celebrate it?”
I look up at him with anger. The nerve of him, asking me to come celebrate, as if he doesn’t know it goes against everything I believe in. Meanwhile, he had me working on the blockchain energy trading project, despite never intending to present it to the board.
As much as I appreciate the financial stability this job provides, I can't bring myself to pretend to rejoice in a business deal that goes against my values.
