Page 85 of Worth the Fall

CHAPTER 19

Mia

The sound of champagne popping is so unexpected that I nearly drop the stack of files I’m carrying. I glance toward the break room, where a burst of laughter and applause spills into the hallway. For a second, I hesitate. Linda had said she needed me in there, but the day’s already been packed, and I’m half tempted to slip back to my office and tackle the next round of work.

Before I can turn away, Linda appears in the doorway, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and a mischievous smile on her face.

"Don’t even think about it, Mason," she says, pointing at me with the bottle. "Get your butt in here."

"What’s going on?" I ask, letting her steer me into the room.

"What’s going on?" Linda repeats, her voice rising theatrically. "Only the fact that you crushed that presentation yesterday. And as of this morning, you’re officially heading up the Simmons account!"

The room erupts into cheers, and my heart skips a beat. "Wait," I say, looking around at the grinning faces of my colleagues. "You’re serious?"

Linda rolls her eyes, setting the champagne bottle on the counter. "No, we threw this party as an elaborate prank. Of course I’m serious! Greg overheard the partners talking this morning. Simmons loved your pitch—they signed off on everything. You’re officially running the account."

For a moment, I can’t speak. The Simmons account is one of our biggest clients, a cornerstone of the firm’s portfolio. Landing it is the kind of opportunity I’ve been waiting for—the kind that can change everything.

"Come on, Mia," Linda says, handing me a glass of champagne. "Don’t get all shy on us now. This is your moment!"

I take the glass, laughing nervously as the group clinks their drinks in a toast. "Linda, I haven’t even heard from the partners yet," I say, lowering my voice as I glance toward the door. "What if they didn’t mean for this to be official yet?"

Linda snorts, clearly unimpressed with my worry. "Relax. The partners won’t care that we’re celebrating a little early. They’re probably too busy patting themselves on the back for hiring you in the first place."

"Still," I say, glancing over my shoulder again.

Linda notices and rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine," she says loudly enough to catch everyone’s attention. She waves her glass in the air, addressing the room. "Listen up, people. Let’s keep this quick and quiet, just in case the partners aren’t as fun as we are. Got it?"

Each person in the room laughs, but there are a few exaggerated shushing sounds as everyone lowers their voices—though not by much.

Linda raises her glass dramatically, commanding the room’s attention.

"To Mia Mason!" she declares. "Our very own profit portfolio whisperer, Simmons account superstar, and—most importantly—future firm legend."

The room erupts into cheers, and my cheeks flush. "Okay, that’s a little much," I protest, laughing nervously.

"It’s not enough," Greg quips, raising his own glass. "I say we rename the break room after her."

Linda snorts. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘career milestone’ like your name on the coffee pod cabinet."

"I’m just saying," Greg continues, grinning. "The way you broke down their profit margins yesterday? Flawless. If I had half your focus, I’d already be partner."

Linda doesn’t miss a beat. "Greg, if you had half her focus, you’d still only be two-thirds as good. Let’s be real."

The room bursts into laughter, and Greg throws his hands up in mock surrender. "Fair point. Can I at least get dibs on the leftover cookies?"

"Not a chance," Linda says.

Back at my desk, I can barely sit still. The buzz of the celebration in the break room lingers in my chest, and my mind is spinning with everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. Landing the Simmons account feels surreal, like all the hard work and late nights are finally paying off. And then there’s Miguel, with his warm smile and the way he looked at me last night when he said he wanted to spend his life with me.

I grab my phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe. My fingers hover over his name for a moment before I type out a message:

Me

I have some major news to share with you tonight. Be ready for a celebration—this is big!

I stare at the message, grinning like an idiot, then hit send. For a second, I imagine his face when he reads it—the curious tilt of his head, the soft laugh he does when he’s intrigued.

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