22
Kennedy
Thursday morning, I got called into my boss’s office, where I was advised that I’d been removed from the Men’s Advantage project.
I felt my stomach drop, assuming it was because of my relationship with Nash.
I was getting ready to defend myself, to insist that there wouldn’t be an issue working with him, when Chuck continued.
“Upper management is impressed with what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time. They want you to take over one of our biggest projects.”
Oh. Oh.
That was not the direction I’d thought this conversation was heading.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.
“Yes, they feel . . .” He cleared his voice, correcting himself. “We all feel you’re the right person to spearhead this project. We believe you have what it takes to get this one off the ground and run with it.”
“Okay.”
“We need you in the LA office on Monday.”
“LA?” The word came out like a squeak. As in Los Angeles? California? The other side of the country?
“I know it’s short notice, Kennedy, but everything will be taken care of. All you need to do is be ready to go.”
Monday. Four days away.
“Oh wow.” That wasn’t short notice. That was ridiculously short notice.
“We realize this is an inconvenience, which is why we’re willing to offer you a bonus.”
Then he named a number.
I bit down on my lip to keep from squeaking out loud. It was a lot more than I’d expected.
When I didn’t respond, Chuck must have mistaken my silence for disappointment because he quickly added, “I’ll double it, Kennedy, okay? We really need you for this.”
My jaw nearly dropped.
“It’s three weeks,” he clarified when I still didn’t answer.
After that, he launched into an explanation of the project, but his words blurred together.
I heard him say something about it being a great stepping stone, a chance to really advance in the company, which was what I’d always wanted.
These three weeks and the bonus—which equaled nearly a quarter of my annual salary—would be huge for my future.
It was the kind of opportunity I’d be crazy to walk away from.
Saying yes could launch my career to the next level.
And saying no could make me look ungrateful and replaceable.
Six months ago, I wouldn’t even have hesitated.
But LA?
My chest tightened. Three weeks away from Nash.
No more falling asleep tangled in him, waking up to his lazy grin in the morning. The thought of missing out on that—even for something this big—made me ache.
Wasn’t this what I’d always wanted, though? To prove myself? To show everyone, including myself, that I had what it took to climb to the next level? To build a career I could be proud of?
I wanted both. My career and Nash. Right now, it felt like choosing one meant sacrificing the other.
But then again, Nash traveled for work, so why couldn’t I?