Chapter 3
Chapter Three
CHARLOTTE
My first meeting with both the new and existing leadership teams was officially in the books.
My heels clicked softly against the tile, the sound echoing in the open expanse as I made my way from the conference room toward the corner office at the end of the hall.
I’d kept it efficient, with introductions, expectations, and a kick-off for the week of integrations.
Of course, it hadn’t been without its surprises.
Like being called a “girl boss.”
I rolled my eyes, recalling the quip, still amused by the looks on the faces of Ray, John, and Gabriel when they realized exactly who I was. Priceless.
As for Gabriel looking better in person than in his headshot, well, I refused to waste brain space on the thought.
Finally, I arrived at the big corner office.
My office.
Arrow Communications occupied the top four floors of a twenty-eight-story glass tower in the heart of San Diego. It was only a fifteen-minute commute if I left my house early, which I often did to steal some quiet hours before the day began.
Shutting the door behind me, I spent a moment taking in the significance of having this larger space, the office of the CEO, acting or not. I ran my hand over the large walnut desk, remembering all the times I’d been here as a guest, but never as the owner before now.
As I gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor, I sat behind the desk and let appreciation wash over me. I’d worked hard for this and would at least take a moment to enjoy it.
Leaning back, I sipped my black tea, which my assistant had graciously set on my desk for me, needing the extra boost today since a mix of nerves and adrenaline about my first official day in charge had woken me before dawn.
Caffeine in hand, I tried to settle into my inbox, but my cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. Oddly, it was from my son. With a sixteen-year-old, texting was the usual currency.
“Good morning. Everything okay?” I asked, already bracing. Austin split time between me and his dad, and this weekend had been his father’s turn. Right now, he should be at school.
“Yeah, Mom.” His voice carried a new depth, a rich baritone which still surprised me.
He might tower over me now, but in my heart he was still the boy who’d slip into my bed after nightmares.
“I’m between first and second period and wanted to call to wish you luck today with the promotion and stuff. ”
Biased or not, I knew I had the best kid on the planet. “Thank you. It means a lot to have you call. You’ve got a game tonight. How do you feel about it?”
I’d long since accepted that no parent made every field trip, class party, practice, or baseball game.
Given my demanding career, the reality was missing things.
The guilt prickled, but I was past the days of apologizing for every absence.
My son knew I showed up when I could, and when I did, I was fully his.
“Good,” he answered, launching into a full breakdown of the playoff picture, rattling off stats with the easy excitement only teenagers could carry. I closed my eyes and let his words center me.
“Amazing. I can’t wait to see you pitch in next Friday’s game.” I prioritized attending the games where he was starting.
“Same. Hey, uh, do you care if I come over tomorrow for dinner and to do my homework?” His tone was casual, but I wondered at the more frequent drop-ins over the last few weeks on his “father’s nights.”
“It’s your house, too, and you never have to ask,” I answered quickly. “You’ve got your own truck, and keys to the house, so you’re welcome anytime.”
Technically, he split his time between me and his dad, according to the custody agreement drafted years ago.
But now that he could drive himself, I believed he should be free to choose where he wanted to be.
And truthfully, I could hardly blame him for wanting some quiet time for homework.
At his father’s house, he had three younger siblings competing for attention. At mine, it was just us.
“Thanks. See you then. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
A soft knock came at my door, and I answered with, “Come in.”
Olivia Roberts, my executive assistant, walked through the door, all smiles.
Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a trendy dress with her signature patterned tights and oxfords.
With catlike glasses perched on her fresh face completing the look, she was a breath of fresh air walking into the room.
She set a box wrapped in festive ribbon on the table and slid it toward me.
“For me?” I asked, touched by the gesture.
“Yes, please open it.” Her hands clasped together, and her eyes were bright with the eager anticipation of a child waiting for a gift to land just right.
The weight and shape already hinted at a book, but curiosity quickened my hands as I pulled away the paper. Inside lay a leather-bound notebook, soft to the touch.
“Open the cover,” she urged.
I complied, reading my name gleaming across the first page, followed by the title Chief Executive Officer embossed in elegant gold leaf.
“This is beautiful,” I murmured, emotion tightening my throat. “Thank you, Olivia.”
She knew me well. In a world of tablets and styluses, I still preferred pencil to paper, never stepping into a meeting without a notebook at my side. This one wasn’t simply practical. It symbolized how well she knew and believed in me.
“My pleasure. So how is our new CEO feeling?”
“Acting CEO,” I clarified with a small smile. I hated to burst her bubble, but a fact was a fact.
There were few people with whom I let my guard down in the office, but I’d known Olivia for five years and counted her as a trusted colleague.
She might only be in her mid-twenties, but she was a vault when it came to confidentiality.
She also kept me organized and, best of all, provided the rare opportunities for laughter.
She only shook her head with a smile. “For now, but clearly they’d be stupid not to make it permanent.”
She took a seat in the visitor’s chair. It’s how we started each morning. A quick chat and overview of the day before things got busy. “Will you have to interview against other candidates for the job?”
“Afraid so.” I hoped they’d start the process soon. Frankly, I wanted to put the “acting” part of the title behind me and know my future with certainty.
Her eyes widened. “They’ll post the CEO job online? That feels…disrespectful.”
“They’ll be more discreet, and use an executive search firm to quietly recruit.
” My mind immediately went to Jill Evans, an old friend from college and one of the best recruiters in the region.
I made a mental note to reach out, see if she had any intel she could share, even if it was just about the timing of the posting.
Later that morning, I sat behind my desk and sifted through recent performance reviews of Arrow staff.
I sorted by team, making notes on who I’d need to follow up with in the coming days.
The bottom five percent would be brutal to lay off, no matter how I sliced it, but performance was the fairest lens for the decision I had.
After that, I started to review Juniper’s staff, ranking them in order of title and tenure. A reminder I needed to schedule a trip across the Atlantic sooner rather than later to meet the people based in the London office, the former Juniper’s headquarters.
A sharp knock pulled me out of my focus, and I suppressed the inward sigh clawing its way up. I’d counted on some quiet time before the afternoon meetings.
“Come in,” I called, already bracing myself for whatever new demand awaited.
What I wasn’t prepared for was Gabriel Chambers filling the doorway. Of all people. I’d assumed he’d be buried under onboarding, which was why I’d pushed our first meeting to tomorrow. Clearly, I’d assumed wrong.
He stepped inside, wearing dark slacks, a crisp, baby-blue shirt, and eyes the color of rich coffee. He didn’t look uncertain or out of place. He looked like a man who belonged anywhere he chose.
“Hello, Charlotte,” he greeted smoothly. “I wanted to stop by and say hello before the larger meetings today.”
I rose, smoothing the skirt of my navy dress, a gesture as much about composure as appearance.
I hadn’t grown up caring about fashion, but climbing the corporate ladder had taught me the importance of appearances.
At this level, an impressive wardrobe wasn’t optional; it was armor.
Anyone who claimed clothing didn’t matter for a woman in power had clearly never stood center stage in corporate America with every eye trained on them.
“I’m glad you had a moment,” I fibbed smoothly. “Are you getting settled in?”
“Yes. The orientation is going well, and I’ll be setting up my office today. I was told it’s near yours?”
It was the very space I’d vacated. “Yes. Right next door, to the left of this one.”
His carefully constructed confidence slipped a notch, unease flickering across his features. “I wanted to—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish. Olivia poked her head through the open doorway. “Hi, I was told the new COO was up here. Have you seen—? Oh.”
Gabriel turned toward her, and Olivia froze mid-step. Her wide eyes and parted lips made her appear as though she’d spotted a celebrity rather than the new COO.
To be fair, one could argue Gabriel’s face belonged more on a billboard than in a boardroom. But I’d never seen Olivia at a loss for words.
Gabriel tilted his head, a crease forming between his brows as if puzzled by the attention.
I was about to initiate introductions, but Olivia snapped out of her daze with a huge grin. “Talk about a small world. Mr. Chambers?”