Page 1 of Strictly Business

Part One

"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

Jane Austen, “Pride and Prejudice”

Chapter One

MICHAELA

WHAT SHE DOESN’T KNOW won’t hurt her…or me. Caitlin hasn’t sent me a warning text yet. I must be safe, I hope so, because I am so late. Shocker, I know. Me, late? Never.

I zigzag through the crowd on Columbus Circle, regretting my choice in heels this morning — these things are not made for running through the streets of Manhattan. Crossing over Eighth, I throw a stern glance at the tourist who bumps into me, almost spilling my coffee. I do not have time to deal with a coffee stain on my white shirt. Again, probably not my best fashion choice for mid-July weather. I can feel sweat already wetting certain parts of my shirt as I walk into our office building.

Each time the elevator dings, I feel the anxiety rising in my chest because I’m not sure what awaits me when I get there. Twentieth Floor, the robotic voice announces. The doors part to reveal DV Designs in big, bold letters. Caitlin leans over the front desk, reaching for something, and Bella rolls her eyes before handing her the office phone. Bella’s eyes glance to the elevator when she hears the door open and motions for Caitlin to turn around. Meeting my stare, Caitlin breathes a sigh of relief, “You’re here! Finally. Bethany called, she said—”

“Cait, stop. Is she here?”

A grimace, “In your office.”

“Shit,” I sigh. “Of course, she’s running early when—”

“You’re late,” a familiar voice says from behind her.

Caitlin offers a sympathetic smile before I take a deep breath, put a smile on my face, and look over her shoulder to see my boss and best friend, Nina Villa. Owner of DV Designs and co-owner of Villa Inc., with her older brother Kai. We’ve been friends since my freshman year at Rosecliffe University. She stands with a smirk by the reception desk, a little girl clinging to her black blazer.

The girl’s face lights up when she recognizes me. “Aunt Michaela!”

“Hi, Leia,” I bend down to hug her.

“Caitlin, can you take Ophelia? Michaela and I have some things to discuss,” Nina instructs.

Dead. I’m so dead.

“C’mon Leia, I’m pretty sure I saw some popsicles in the freezer yesterday. Then we can go bother Jaime.”

“Who’s Jaime?” Ophelia asks taking Caitlin’s hand and following her down the hallway.

Without a word, Nina turns on her heel and expects me to follow. The one time (okay, maybe not the one time, but still, the one time) I’m late, Nina decides to show up on time. Not just on time, early. It’s very Nina…

Her corner office overlooks the expansive cityscape, but more importantly, it overlooks Central Park — her favorite place in all of Manhattan. Not surprising, say I blame her, considering it’s where she and her husband finally stopped trying to act like they weren’t made for each other. It only took a little push from yours truly. A glass-top desk with marbled legs faces the door. Bookshelves line the wall to the right full of books and knicknacks she has picked up throughout the years. A conference table sits in front of the shelves, offering a private meeting space away from the prying eyes that lurk outside the usual conference rooms — she typically reserves it for more private clients. In the far-left corner, a white sofa with an extra-long chaise. Blue-gray pillows are set to appear as if they happened to land that way. A blue oriental rug rests beneath a marble coffee table. She designed her space, but let me handle the rest of the office. Her office is much grander than mine, but I suppose that’s to be expected since you’re the big boss.

I close the door but don’t turn to face her yet, I can’t.

Trust me, I deserve what’s coming. Nina has given me a lot of “second” chances, and I keep messing them up. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t fire me, but I think my luck is about to run out.

I twist the locket around my neck between my fingers and finally turn to face her. She sits on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, with an expectant look on her face. “Let me just start by saying I’m sorry, I know—”

“How many times this month?” she asks.

“This is only the fourth time!”

Nina scoffs, “Fourth time… Questa settimana. The fourth time this week, Michaela.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. Rightfully so. I didn’t think she knew how often I’ve been late lately, but things have been… Look, I have a good excuse, I can’t tell her. I should tell her, she is my best friend, and she’d understand, it might even save me the lecture, but I’m not ready to share it with anyone. "Do you know what day it is?” A rhetorical question. “It’s Thursday, the fourth day of the week. I didn’t promote you so you could come and go as you please. I need someone who’s going to be here. Someone I can trust. What kind of an example is it for everyone else if you’re showing up late every day?”

Excuses start swimming through my mind, and I’m grasping for anything that will keep me off the ledge for a bit longer. “I have meetings, I have—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Nina sighs, “Yes, you have duties and responsibilities that require you to be out of the office, but the days you don’t, you’re supposed to be here. On time. You’re supposed to be available because I can’t be. I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I’m sorry, Nin. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don't — I just have a lot going on right now.”

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