Chapter One
Melanie Brunswick’s new shoes made a slight scratching sound on the boardroom carpet as she paced back and forth across the width of the room, waiting for her colleagues to arrive. Every now and then, she stopped, looking out the window of the twenty-first floor of the skyscraper she hoped to make a part of her financial future. The people and cars below reminded her of the toys that she used to play with as a child; she felt as though all she had to do was reach out and pluck them up between her fingers.
Melanie shook her head and continued to pace. She wasn’t a nervous person, usually. She had learned from her father, at a young age, how to keep a cool head. He was the coolest person she knew—but not in the strictly colloquial sense. He was almost emotionless; his mind rarely ever focused on his family or loved ones. Usually, he was mumbling under his breath about work or pasting on smiles for the cameras when he signed a new deal. He only paid attention to Melanie long enough to encourage her to ‘make something of herself’.
Eventually, Melanie grew to resent their relationship, but she was glad that her father had at least instilled a cold professionalism within her. Otherwise, she might have been in the corner by now, hyperventilating over this: her first real step into the world of New York City finance. It was a lucrative business in this city, but if she could make it here…
Melanie stopped again and looked down at the busy streets and sidewalks. At only twenty-one stories, it wasn’t the largest skyscraper in all of New York, but it offered an outstanding viewpoint. It helped that the people and cars all looked so small. It made her feel rather big, standing so high above them.
She felt like a deity on top of Mount Olympus; she could practically feel the electricity running through her veins.
She began to pace again, walking back and forth and allowing the slight scratching of her heels to soothe her fears into little more than a slight hiccup in her chest. She could do this. She knew it. Her mother knew it. Hell, even her father had known it.
She tried not to think of him as she heard the footsteps coming her way and she forced her feet to be still at the head of the table, pretending to look through a file neatly set there as a prop. The only sheet inside was her agenda for the day, and a simple post-it on which her mother had written a messy note of love and congratulations. It was crumpled several times over and had a coffee stain on it. It wasn’t the first, or the most recent, note her sentimental mother had ever handed her, but it was the one she kept on her at all times.
It was the one that gave her that last boost of confidence to look up at her colleagues with a professional smile and welcome them into what she hoped would be the boardroom for her new firm.
The majority of them were men, which didn’t surprise Melanie in the least. Her father had always said that it was ‘A man’s world’, and she’d been forced to believe him whenever she visited his office with her mother and the only women she saw were secretaries and other wives bringing their husbands lunch or, in many cases, dinner.
Her mother was one of those women, though she had a law degree of her own to fall back on when she and Melanie’s father would inevitably divorce.
Melanie remembered holding her mother’s hand and glancing around the big office as men shouted into telephone receivers about money and numbers and deals and felt the rush of adrenaline in her own tiny heart. Her mother had had to tug her along several times, as her feet seemed to glue themselves to the carpet in her sparkly black Mary Janes.
When they arrived at her father’s office, he was on the phone. Every single time. They would wait for close to an hour for his call to finish before spending less than fifteen minutes with him in near silence. Then, they would go home and have dinner, quiet and alone.
This was the life that Melanie had chosen for herself and, as bewildering as it might have been to her mother, this is what made her happy.
Melanie shook the hand of each man as they entered, making sure that her grip was strong and that her spine was straight, as she looked them in the eye. She had dressed carefully that morning to make sure that her blouse wasn’t too low-cut, but also that she didn’t look too much like a prude, completely buttoned-up. She’d worn a gray suit that accentuated her curves, but remained professional. Her dark hair was styled carefully into waves around her shoulders that framed her ebony face well.
She could see that the men took notice with a couple of wandering glances and it gave her a slight thrill of pleasure to know that they saw her as a woman as well as a colleague. She had no shortage of suitors in the city—many of whom had even asked for her hand in marriage, as ridiculously barbaric and medieval as that sounded—but she was uninterested in starting anything long-term, until she’d made her name in the world of high-finance.
Besides, she was young; she had plenty of time to find somebody to build a life with. Now, however, was her time to work and prove herself to all the men—and the two or three women—that had joined her in the boardroom.
The women stood just as tall as Melanie did, and while their hands were slimmer than their male counterparts were, their handshakes were no less firm. Melanie respected that. After all, these women had the same goal as she did and it was always good to support another woman’s goals in the midst of a male-dominated world.
“Thank you,” Melanie said, as the last woman sat down to her immediate left, “for joining me today. As you can probably guess, this is the building, which that I was hoping to purchase with the many investments I’ve made, along with the many investments others have made in my business plan and me. During this meeting, we will go into detail as to what that plan entails, but first, allow me to formally introduce myself.” She took a deep breath and faced them head-on, locking eyes with each person in turn, as she went over her resume. “My name is Melanie Brunswick. I am a recent graduate of Harvard Business School, where I spent my final year contacting investors, as well as working to become the valedictorian with my grades and business thesis. Many of you are also probably familiar with my father, James Brunswick. I don’t plan on using my connection to him as leverage, except to say that I grew up in my father’s office, learning how to make deals and how to negotiate from watching him. I’m no novice here; I’ve been a professional since age ten.”
That got a laugh from her colleagues and Melanie smiled confidently as she continued her presentation, using graphs and charts and a few jokes to lighten the mood when things started to get a little too tense for her liking. She had inherited her father’s charm just as much as she’d inherited his steely-gray eyes and his confidence. They may have not been on speaking terms since her teenaged years, but at least he had given her that.
At the end of the presentation, there was a slight spattering of applause and a few thoughtful murmurs amongst her guests. Melanie stood tall and proud as she took questions and answered them, thoughtfully and succinctly. She could already tell that she had them on the line; she just had to reel them in.
And she did.
One by one, her colleagues stood with their own pens to sign the deal that she laid out on the table for them. They approached Melanie with strong handshakes and warm, professional smiles, congratulating her on her success and offering her their business cards in case she ever wanted to go over more business with them.
Melanie felt a thrill run through her body, though she hid it easily. She’d always been able to hide her emotions well. It was another thing her father had gifted her with.
When the room was almost empty, Melanie was approached by another woman, whose hair was a fiery shade of orange-red and whose eyes were magnified by a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. She offered Melanie a professional smile and a firm handshake.
“Congratulations on your success,” she said. “Especially at such a young age. Though, I would expect nothing less from one of James’ children.”
“Oh, you knew my father?” Melanie asked.
“More or less. I interned for him during my undergrad years. You know, you look quite a bit like him. Though, I imagine all of his kids do.”
They did, it was true, but this woman was becoming too familiar for Melanie’s liking, so she just nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “For your approval of this venture. I will not disappoint.”
“You better not,” the woman joked, still too familiar, but Melanie didn’t let it faze her. They shared one more smile, before the woman walked out of the room on her sky-high heels that clicked against the tiled floor in the hallway.
When she was gone, Melanie let out a deep sigh and finally allowed her body to relax, leaning against the boardroom table. She closed her eyes for a long moment as a smile spread over her lips. When her eyes opened again, she could feel the elation swelling in her and she made her way to the window overlooking the street, staring down at the ant-sized people and cars.
Somehow, everything looked brighter than before.