Chapter 2
Cassidy paces restlessly through the apartment in an unbuttoned shirt, a towel wrapped around her head, and a coffee mug that's one anxious step away from ending up on the floor.
"Relax, you still have time," Payton says, calm, watching her sister move back and forth, "but if you don't finish getting dressed, dry your hair, and drink that coffee that's probably cold by now, then you really will be late."
Cassidy startles at the sound of her voice and, just as she'd feared, a good amount of dark liquid slips from the mug and hits the floor.
"Damn it," she mutters, taking a few steps back and looking around as if a mop might magically appear to clean up the mess.
"Leave it, I'll get it." Payton rolls her eyes. "Go get dressed."
She closes the laptop she'd been working on and gets up to blot the carpet before the stain sets in forever.
Cassidy kisses her cheek, grateful that her older sister is always there for everything without question, even at the expense of her own needs.
She can't shake the knot of nerves that's been squeezing her chest for a week now — ever since her mentor, Samuel Barnes, arranged an internship she never asked for at Whitestone Consulting Group.
It wasn't part of her plan. In fact, she never would have applied to that consulting firm on her own, because getting into their marketing department apparently requires something close to a Faustian bargain, along with a sky-high IQ and years of experience she doesn't have.
"This research is fantastic, Cassidy, and the fact that you did it on your own makes it even more impressive," Samuel had told her one afternoon while reviewing her senior thesis. "Whitestone would be very lucky to have you."
She'd had no idea that Samuel was one of the firm's partners, because her advisor — up until that point — had always been very private, except for one thing he'd mentioned once as they were leaving campus: that Cassidy reminded him so much of his daughter that he sometimes had to look twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things.
A few days later, Samuel made her an offer she couldn't refuse. He proposed she spend six months as an intern in the business development department — a critical stepping stone toward marketing, which was what she really wanted — and if she worked hard enough, she could get there.
Now that the moment has arrived, her hands are shaking like she's standing at the edge of a cliff, but with the certainty that there's a rope tied around her waist — the one she earned by working without rest her entire life.
She's closer than she's ever been, and now, at last, she has the opportunity she's spent years dreaming about.
"Good luck on your first day," Payton whispers, pulling her into a tight hug. "Don't let anyone intimidate you. You know your stuff, you can do this job, and you've fought so hard to get here."
Cassidy holds on, because her sister more than anyone knows how much she's poured into every single step that led to this moment.
At twenty-eight, Cassidy Collins is finally starting to really live.
Behind her are the nights when she barely slept four hours because the rest of her day was packed — classes, studying for exams, juggling two jobs to save enough money, knowing that the moment she graduated she'd have six months before the loan payments kicked in.
She'd done a double major because she couldn't imagine it any other way, but that had pushed her debt higher than expected.
Her original plan had been to land a job at a small company willing to take someone without experience, something that paid enough to cover her monthly payments.
Being an intern at a consulting firm isn't exactly encouraging — unless you get hired at the end of it.
The pay is usually insulting, dressed up as learning and professional growth, barely enough to cover rent.
But the only thing running through Cassidy's mind right now is signing a full-time contract when the internship is over, because if this falls apart, she won't have a choice but to go back to her old — and miserable — jobs.
● ● ●
Cassidy walks across the marble lobby of Whitestone, and her whole body hums at the feeling of being somewhere like this, of someone like her having any chance of working here.
The space is exactly what you'd expect from the headquarters of a major firm: soaring ceilings, harsh artificial lighting that exposes every pore, and people who carry themselves like they expect to inherit the company by the end of their careers.
"Cassidy." A man's voice comes from the right, and she stops. "Welcome."
Samuel Barnes appears with his warm, easy manner and gives her an affectionate squeeze on the arm, handing her a blue keycard with the company logo and her personal information on the back.
"Professor, thank you for—"
"Here I'm just Samuel," the partner cuts in, correcting her, then gestures toward the elevators. "I wanted to greet you personally and go over a few things that I think are important."
Three other people step into the elevator with them, and silence settles for the few seconds it takes to reach the fifth floor, where Human Resources is located.
Cassidy studies them — two men in immaculate suits, polished shoes, and expensive cologne.
The woman wears a fitted skirt-and-blouse set with understated matching jewelry, which makes Cassidy glance down at herself and confirm that she sticks out completely.
She doesn't look like a mess exactly, but today's outfit may not have been the best call, given the generous size of her chest and that one button that always teeters between slightly crooked and about to pop off entirely.
"You'll need to sign all the remaining paperwork now.
" Samuel stops in a quiet corner near an office just as they step off the elevator.
"I know you feel the pressure, Cassidy, but you were a brilliant student and you deserve to be here.
In these months, I'm certain you'll learn more than you did in your first years of college. "
She looks directly at him and wonders why he's doing all of this for her. She knows she did things right — she sacrificed what little free time she had to make her performance stand out — but she wasn't the best. There were classmates above her who could easily outshine her in a place like this.
"The expectations are high," Samuel continues, his expression softening even further, "but once you get to Clara Fitzgerald's department, you'll know it was worth every bit of effort.
And about your salary — I managed to get it bumped up ten percent, given your double major and your senior thesis.
I know it's not a lot, but it's better than what it was. "
Cassidy's lungs expand. Any extra money is welcome, and coming in as an intern earning more than she made at both of her jobs combined is more than she'd expected. Scrubbing bathrooms, frying food, and dealing with drunks was not exactly the future she'd planned for herself.
"Thank you, Samuel." Cassidy takes a breath that's supposed to calm her down but has the opposite effect. "I hope I don't let you down."
He places a hand on her shoulder, and something in his chest tightens as the image of his daughter settles in his mind.
"You'll do great." He withdraws his hand and points to a closed door a few feet away. "When you're done here, head down to the third floor and ask for Diane Carter. She's expecting you."
She knows the name. Cassidy has spent the past several days going in and out of Whitestone's website like someone obsessed, determined to learn every important face so she could recognize them when the moment came and not put her foot in her mouth.
She knows that Mrs. Carter heads one of the firm's most critical divisions and works closely with marketing on final client proposals.
She's excited. She knows she's going to learn from people with serious experience in the field.
● ● ●
Nearly two hours later — a workplace safety video and a presentation covering the company's internal policies on harassment, misconduct, and discrimination — Cassidy walks down a long hallway on the third floor, new laptop in hand, until she comes to a young woman sitting behind a small desk beside a wooden door with a gold nameplate that reads Diane Carter.
"Hi, I have a meeting with Mrs. Carter," she says, nervous, and she's surprised to find that the person she assumes is her new boss's assistant looks back at her with absolute panic.
Gianna shifts her gaze to her computer screen and pulls up the calendar to confirm what she already knows: her boss has no meetings scheduled for that morning — only one at eleven with a client, and that's off-site.
She wrings her hands, which have already started to sweat, and feels her ribs ache from the rapid hammering of her heart.
Never, in her short life, had Gianna Harris wished so desperately for a coworker to come back from leave, because being Diane Carter's direct line without Tatiana as a buffer is the worst nightmare she has ever lived through.
"I'm sorry, but her schedule doesn't allow for changes, and unless there's been some kind of mix-up, she doesn't have any appointments at this time."
Cassidy tries not to let her smile falter. Wasn't she supposed to be expected?
"Today's my first day, and Samuel Barnes directed me to come here and meet with her directly.
" She checks her watch with a discreet glance and realizes she may have arrived much later than planned.
"I was with HR for two hours — is it possible she was expecting me earlier? My name is Cassidy Collins."
Gianna shakes her head and wipes the sweat from the back of her neck.
"She has no planned meetings with internal staff today."
The new intern starts to lose her patience. This might be a scheduling mistake, but someone is going to have to let her boss know she's out here.