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“I want it to reflect you.”
What? The words hang between us. I start in surprise, my gaze flickering over to Uncle Bill’s face as my eyebrows shoot up. He smirks at my expression, and I school my face into what I hope is a more neutral look.
Uncle Bill nods to me. “After all, you are the face of Haven Property. It’ll be your company one day. It’s high time that the company’s image reflects that.”
I’m extremely gratified at what is, without a doubt, a massive vote of confidence in me. In the manner that I have conducted myself at Haven Property over the last eight years. In the wayI’ve run the company. I have been waiting for this moment for what feels like my entire life.
“I have a designer in mind,” Uncle Bill continues. I nod. Of course he’d have his fingerprints all over this project. It’s no skin off my nose. It’s an enormous compliment to me he’s even suggested this project. I don’t care who he chooses to implement it. If he’s picked them, they’ll do a fantastic job.
Uncle Bill clears his throat, still watching me as he drums his fingers on his knee. “I’ve already arranged for her to fly into New York. She’ll remain here until you both have come up with something that satisfies me and the Haven Property board.”
“Of course, Uncle Bill.” I sit back, nodding to him. “I’ll work with whoever you suggest. I’m sure if you feel they’re suitable, they’re the best person for the job.”
Uncle Bill smirks over at me again, silence reigning as he studies me for a long moment. “I want to make sure that these new designs truly reflect your personality.”
I am in complete agreement. Absolutely. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with some design that feels nothing like me for the next ten years.
Uncle Bill smiles warmly at me, drumming his fingers again. “You are the face and future of the company.”
It’s always been implied, ever since Uncle Bill told me I’d be studying at Northwestern and moving to New York to work with Haven Property. But it’s never been so explicitly stated before. Even when I was transferred 30% of the ownership. This moment is a culmination of my life’s work so far, and it is fucking beautiful.
“Thank you. Your confidence in my abilities at Haven Property means everything.”
I’m completely sincere in my thanks. I’ve been waiting my whole life for Uncle Bill to say those words to me, and he’s finally sitting on my lounge, saying them. It feels like it’s been almost twenty years in the making.
“I feel the best way for Ms. Kasan to get a feel for your personality is to stay here with you, of course.”
Say what now? She’s staying… where?
“I’m sorry?” I lean forward again, sure that I’ve misheard him. Uncle Bill smirks again before pokering up and nodding sagely.
“She’ll stay here. In one of your guest bedrooms. Until the job is done to everyone’s satisfaction. I trust that you’ll see she has everything that she needs?”
My jaw drops, but I manage to get it under control so I don’t gape at him. A strange woman. Staying in my penthouse. What kind of living hell am I getting myself into? I haven’t shared a home with anyone since I moved out of my frat house at Northwestern. I certainly have no desire to start now. Especially not with some mysterious woman whose entire purpose of being here is to watch and appraise me. I can’t live here feeling like I’m constantly under a microscope. It’ll drive me fucking mental.
My thoughts are broadcast across my face, and Uncle Bill frowns. He opens his mouth, probably to tell me that if I’m not happy with this turn of events, maybe I’m not ready for the responsibilities that he’s trying to give me. I quickly smooth outmy face to a blank mask and force what I hope is a charming smile.
“I wouldn’t have your guest staying anywhere else,” I assure him diplomatically, and Uncle Bill smiles, placated. He stands, so I quickly shove to my feet too, accompanying him back to the front door.
“Ms. Kasan arrives in a few days. I’ll have Cathy email you her flight details.”
“I’ll be sure to make her feel as welcome as possible.”
He claps me on the shoulder and strides out the front door. Closing it behind him, I press my forehead against the door, gritting my teeth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What a nightmare. Shoving away from the door, I stalk back through the penthouse, heading for my shower. There’s no way I’m going out tonight. I’m in too much of a bad mood.
Anica
“Folks, we’re on our final descent into New York City,” the pilot announces. Turning, I press my nose against the window, staring out, drinking in the sprawling city below me.
From the air, New York City looks exactly like you think it would, based on TV shows and movies. It’s my first time on theeast coast. I was born and raised in Oregon, on the other side of the country, so our big holidays were mainly to LA.
I moved to Chicago to study design at the University of Illinois, but before now, I’ve never made it any further east than that. I did toy with moving to New York after graduating and trying to get a design job here. But then I was offered a job at Haven Enterprises in Chicago. I wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity like that. Haven Enterprises is the first company started by the billionaire businessman Bill Westerhaven over forty years ago.
His business has expanded over the decades, and now he has five other businesses, each one run by one of his dreamy nephews. But they’re all underneath the Haven Enterprises umbrella, and Mr. Westerhaven still pulls all the strings. It’s an open secret at his companies but kept under wraps outside of it. It was even stated in the NDA I signed with my employment that I wasn’t allowed to talk or post on social media about who runs the companies.
It being the umbrella company is one reason I accepted the job in the first place. Everyone in Chicago knows that if you started at Haven Enterprises, you might eventually end up at one of the other companies scattered around the country. Everyone at college wanted to work for Haven Enterprises because it opened doors.
The door that it’s opening for me right now is the one at the front of the plane, leading out toNew York City! Straightening my favorite baggy woolen sweater, in my favorite color (bright red), I grab my purse and retrieve my portfolio bag from the flight attendant as I join the queue shuffling off the plane.
