Chapter One

Melinda

Go figure. I took my first vacation in five years, to attend my cousin’s funeral, even though he and I had never even met. Then, sitting at a coffee shop pre-funeral, I ended up in conversation with the owner. It started out casually enough, but one thing led to another and now I was back in my office putting together a portfolio for the guy.

Mom was pissed, but I could only hope that my boss, Mr. Cartucci, was taking notice. With twenty newly-acquired clients under my belt, I could feel a promotion stirring, along with the fulfillment of a longtime dream that started at age nine when my father left my mother and me.

Watching my mom struggle to make ends meet, fixing the last of the eggs and not taking any for herself, I promised myself to one day no longer have to worry about those last two eggs in the carton and to be able to take care of my mom for a change.

With that goal in mind, I worked my ass off all through high school, landed a full scholarship to Berkeley, and graduated in the top ten of my class. Almost immediately, I landed a job at the number one marketing firm in New York City, Creative Nature Marketing.

Now, I looked at the neatly-packaged portfolio in my hands and smiled, closing the embossed front cover and standing up from my desk. I smoothed out my skirt and took in a deep breath before walking toward Mr. Cartucci’s office. He knew I was coming to see him this morning but wasn’t aware of the new client yet.

Anthony Cartucci was an icon in the marketing world. He had started out in the business with a bang, opening Creative Nature when he was pretty young. With a combination of personality, talent, and tenacity, he took his company to the number one slot in a very short amount of time. Now he was recently engaged and I had heard rumors that he was looking for a new Junior VP to help lessen his load. And that job had my name all over it.

“Melinda,” he called as I stood at his secretary’s desk.

She nodded at me and I walked through the door, trying to muster up that courage I had with everyone else. Mr. Cartucci looked up as I entered, briefly looking around his beautiful office and imagining my own corner office one day in the near-future. He put down his pen and closed the file in front of him.

“How are you? Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “And I am really well. I brought you this new client. The portfolio is already complete. I took the liberty of processing it for you.”

He took the file from me and opened it up, flipping through the pages and shaking his head. I sat there nervously, waiting for his reaction, until he finally smiled and handed the folder back to me.

“Melinda, I am seriously impressed,” he said. “I want you to run with that client from start to finish since you’ve developed a rapport with them. How many is that for you now?”

“Twenty, sir,” I said, trying to hold back a smile.

“Very impressive. Do you enjoy working here?”

“Very much,” I replied.

“Good,” he smiled. “You remind me of myself when I first started out. Your drive, attention to detail, and bright personality are key to this position. I want you to keep pushing because I have some big things in mind for you here at the company. I can’t imagine you will be sitting in that cubicle for much longer.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said excitedly.

“No, thank you, Melinda,” he said, standing up and shaking my hand.

I left the office on cloud nine, thinking about the blood, sweat, and tears I had put into my career since getting out of college. Everything that I had put in, all the dreams I’d deferred while I paid my dues, was finally starting to pay off.

Sitting back down at my desk after a few minutes of celebration, I forced myself to focus. As usual, I worked through lunch, eating at my desk, and kept going until I was the last one at the office. That was such a common occurrence that the office manager had actually gotten me a key to the building about four months back. I enjoyed being in the office when no one else was there. It was exhilarating and quiet, and I imagined what it would be like to own a company myself. Until then, I was determined to make a name for myself with Creative Nature.

When I was done for the day I stepped out onto the always-busy sidewalks of the city. The sun was starting to go down and the temperature had dropped just enough to be the perfect summer warmth. I walked down two blocks and ordered some Chinese takeout before grabbing a cab and heading home to Brooklyn. Not much of a chef, I also thought it was weird to cook for just one person. My tiny kitchen didn’t make for easy maneuvering either.

Back when I got my first raise, I could have moved out of my tiny apartment in Brooklyn, but instead I picked up my mother’s mortgage. She fought it at first, but when I insisted, she agreed, giving up all but one of her jobs. I finally started to see her smile every once in a while, instead of always looking so tired that I wasn’t sure how she was still standing up. I counted that as one of my biggest successes so far, even though a heart attack had taken her from me before I could get successful enough to make sure she never had to work another day. Now just one more promotion and I could move to Manhattan, where I had dreamt of living my entire life.

Specifically, my 10-year-plan, which I came up with right after landing an internship with Creative, included getting a big enough promotion to get a place in Manhattan by the time I turned thirty. I was way above the curve with my entire plan, and from the sounds of how Mr. Cartucci was talking, I might get there sooner rather than later.

When I got home, I took off my shoes, spritzed water on my plants, and sat down in the living room. I pulled out my food and plastic silverware and flipped on the news, catching up with what was going on around the world. Watching the news while I ate, kept me in the loop with the real world, which was easy to forget about in the midst of the daily grind. But I never wanted to get too big that I couldn’t remember that there was a whole world around me also doing its thing.

My mind that night, though, wasn’t really focused on the news. It was still reeling from my meeting with Mr. Cartucci. I wished that I had someone to share it with, but I had broken up with my year-long boyfriend, Elliot, just a couple months before. He was great—sweet, kind, and funny, but he had zero drive and no idea what he wanted to do with his future. It just wasn’t working. I needed someone who matched my hunger for success, not someone I had to pull along the way.

Sure, I got lonely sometimes, especially on days like this one, where everything was going so right and I just wanted to celebrate. Relationships were complications though, and I just didn’t have time to be there when someone needed me. Not anyone besides my mom, at any rate. Hell, I didn’t have time to just go out and get laid, much less nurture a growing bond with another person. My focus was, and would continue to be, on my future.

My mom had told me when I was a teen that I had more drive than anyone she had ever seen. I didn’t really believe her, assuming everyone was like me, at least the ones that had career aspirations. However, once I got into the real world and saw how little people did, how little they pushed themselves, I realized that I was going to mop the floor with them. That wasn’t what I was really after, but people who didn’t get out of my way, or who tried to stall me, soon learned to think twice.

After realizing how late it was, I cleaned up, changed, and got into bed. As sleep began to creep over my body, I lay there, thinking about what my boss had said. Excitement filled my chest for just a moment before I fell fast asleep.