Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Logan
W hen the clock hits nine, I loosen my tie. It is my birthday after all. I should allow myself some luxury.
Forty-three. I still have the energy and vitality of a twenty-year-old and if it weren’t for the gray hairs meeting me in the mirror every morning, I wouldn’t believe I was already this old.
The sun is just about finished its beautiful descent behind me, and as usual, I missed it all.
When you’ve seen one New York City sunset, you’ve seen them all.
The world’s greatest city is sprawled out on the other side of my spotless floor-to-ceiling windows, lit up in all its glory, but I don’t tear my eyes away from my three computer screens to admire it.
Not tonight.
I’m combing through the financial records of a struggling division named VANTAGE.
It stands for Visionary Advancement of Next-gen Technology And Growth Engine.
Every advisor I have has told me to cut it loose, but there’s something in my gut telling me to keep it.
Thirty-three employees would be laid off. Jobs lost. Families ruined.
But still, the project is bleeding money. Eva is a virtual avatar that’s supposed to help employees integrate new technologies into their workflows. Only, no one is using it. And it’s costing us a fortune.
I sigh as I scan the records, hoping I see something that prevents me from making that tough call.
My secretary Cassandra steps into the doorway and lightly taps on the doorframe.
“I’m heading out, Mr. Strickland.”
“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I glance at her between swipes of the PDF. She has her laptop bag slung over her shoulder and a little white box in her hand. She walks over, places it on my desk, and then retreats like it’s a bomb about to go off.
“I know you don’t like anyone making a fuss,” she says, “but it is your birthday. So, happy birthday.”
A heaviness hits me as I open the box and see one lone cupcake sitting inside. Now I regret snapping at her over the Jones’ report this afternoon. I can be such an asshole without even trying. It comes so damn naturally.
“Dark chocolate bourbon ganache from The Wellness Bakery,” she says shyly. “Just in case you feel like celebrating after you finish with those financial records.”
“Thank you,” I say with a sigh as I stare at it. “Very thoughtful.”
“Do you have birthday plans tonight?”
“Birthday plans?”
“Yeah,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe meeting your family for dinner or hooking up with some friends for drinks?”
My jaw clenches. “Not this year.”
“Oh,” she says when she realizes how pathetic I am.
“I think there’s a box of birthday candles in the break room,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “I can run over and get them if you want to blow out some candles.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say as I close the box. “Get home safely.”
I turn back to the computer screen and she gets the point.
“You too,” she whispers under her breath as she ducks out.
I hear her heels clip-clopping down the hall and I stare at my screen until the elevator arrives and takes her away.
When I’m finally alone, I lean back in my chair, grab the box and open it.
It’s a nice thought, but I don’t eat sugar.
Fine, maybe one bite since it’s my birthday. I take a small nibble and then with a sigh, I toss the box into the garbage can, turn back to the reports, and get back to work.
Happy birthday to me.