The Risks we take

One

Sloane

Lovely New York City. With it's smog, constant noise and nonstop traffic. Whoever would opt to live here must be out of their damn mind. Though London wasn't much better but at least I could commute in back there. I wasn't stuck in some high rise apartment. The views were good. I will give them that. Looking out the bedroom window at 1am at a sea of lights below fascinated me. I'd still much rather rolling hills though. And sweet little song birds rather than planes.

Another person pushed passed me as I stood curb side letting out a sigh of relief when Stan finally showed up. I'd be an hour. He's supposed to be here waiting. Save me from being murdered before I get to the office.

"Sorry Miss Windsor, traffic-" He pulled the door open for me and I ducked my head, slipping into my spot and dumping my gym bag into the footwell on the other side.

"No worries. It's always traffic isn't it?"

"One person isn't focused on the light change and it ruins the whole dynamic." He smiled. "I'll avoid as much as it as I possibly can." I gave him a single nod before sinking down a little in the chair and scrolling through countless emails from the UK office. I'd been here for a week out of a potential year and I was already home sick.

'Make this your first solo project Lizzie'
'It's good starter. Well established, not many problems. Nothing you can't handle darling.'

I was on a plane out here barely 3 weeks later with a list of names and numbers of people dad trusted when he lived here. Stan was one of them. He'd been my dad's driver for years, when I came over a few years ago with Eden he was the one tasked with making sure I got wherever we wanted to go, helping us with anything we needed. How dad had talked him into dropping all his other plans for 2 girl's post Uni trip I'll never know. Either way, Stan was great. Always had a smile and some kind of gossip or interesting fact to pass on. Today's for instance, was that a platypus doesn't have a stomach. Something about the definition of a stomach and it falling short or something. Never a dull moment.

"Sorry Stan, dad's calling." Stan smiled in the rearview mirror and leaned over, closing the privacy glass and answering. "Father."

"Lizzie." He chuckled, deep and warm making me miss them all even more. "Good morning Angel."

"Afternoon to you guys. How's everything over there?"

"We're okay. Nothing to update on. How's New York? Sorry I didn't call this weekend Darling. Your mother dragged me to-"

"HE DRAGGED ME." Mum shouted from her desk across the office. She picked up his phone line. "Hello sweetheart."

"Hi mum." I sunk into the chair, closing my eyes softly. Even living in the city mum spent most of her life in, surrounded by people with her exact accent, nothing beats her voice. "He dragged you somewhere then?"

"To the golf club. Under the premise of a spa day."

"I bet he sent you off for a massage and then decided to have a round."

"See, even she knew what you were planning Matthew." Mum scoffed and they began bickering and laughing at each other before she gave up and put me on loud speaker. "Sorry Darl, we asked about you. How's the big apple? Did you do something this weekend?"

"I did. I met up with Drew and a few of her friends Saturday afternoon, spent Sunday finishing unpacking before a virtual movie evening with Eden who passed out because of the time difference. Pretty uneventful." There was a quick tap on the glass, Stan letting me know we were here. "Two seconds guys." I put them on mute and slid the glass open, leaning my head half way through the glass. "Thanks Stan. I'm leav-"

"Leaving your gym bag in the footwell and you'll take it home with you tonight. I know the drill Miss Windsor. I'll be here to pick you up. 5.30 on the dot."

"So, 6.30 with traffic?" He chuckled. "I'll see you this evening. Have a good rest of your day. Don't work too hard." He got out, pulling my door open for me and I put my feet onto the solid sidewalk before unmuting my parents and slapping my game face on. "I just got to the office. Can I catch up with you guys later?"

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll give you a call on our way home. Your calendar's open today."

"It is but I'm wanting to look over the expenditure a little more. I am busy." I scanned my pass, pushing through the security gates and hitting the button for the lift.

"I never said you weren't poppet. We'll speak to you this afternoon. Have a good day." I hung up the phone as it went dead, climbing into the lift a little later than I'd like to have been. I liked being early but with Stan's delay picking me up and then traffic getting here, I was almost half an hour late. It wasn't a good look. It was fine. I was in far too early every day last week to get familiar with where everything was before people got in. It'd thrown Drew off when she got here at 8am and I was talking to myself about desk positioning and reeling names off like a roster. I'd had meetings with Drew weekly since the acquisition. She wasn't a new face. She was in every meeting when it was all in talks and me and her were often the first ones online so we had a familiar relationship when she was handed over to me as my new PA.

I walked out of the lift, lifting my eyes from my phone if only for a second. It was important to look busy when you start something like this. People feel less panicked somehow. Like you know what you're doing and you're dedicated to keeping them in a job. Honestly though, this place could essentially run itself once I was on top of everything. It would be handy for me to be able to go home and just visit for a week 3 or 4 times a year. Manage it from home with everything else. Appoint someone as a figure head here to relay everything back to me. Easy.

"You look concerned Drew." I spoke, taking the coffee out of her hand carefully.

"I - uh-"

"I need words."

"Lawson. Reed Lawson from The Echo. He dropped by first thing this morning wanting to see you."

"To see me?" Don't react Sloane. Not out here.

"He wanted to see who the 'new face of Rise Weekly' is." I set the paper cup down on my desk, watching the solid wood door close before dropping my bag and phone and slumping onto the sofa at the other end of the room. "He's a piece of wor-"

"I am very aware of Reed Lawson being a piece of work." Drew sat down opposite me, a little more elegantly in her black mid-thigh shift dress. Looking as flawlessly put together from her capsule wardrobe as always.

"You know him?"

"Yeah. You could say I know Reed." I grumbled and laid my head back, staring at the tiled ceiling I hated. It looked cheap and flimsy and was stained in places a nasty brown from a leaky AC pipe. At least I hoped it was an AC pipe. "We had a fling when I was here a few years ago. The prick told me I'd never amount to anything and left me in upstate New York without a ride home. I got robbed at gun point when someone saw me calling Stan." I laughed at myself before sitting up and staring at Drew with a sadistic smile. "He wanted this place then?" She nodded. "Wonderful. He's probably coming to see if I'm able to hold onto this place or if he's going to be able to get a deal on it because he doesn't know my name."

"He doesn't." I smiled and stood up, dusting myself off and flicking my hair onto the back of my blazer. "Said he'd come back at lunch time if you bothered to turn up to work today."

"Perfect. Make him sit in the waiting room and call me when he's here. Don't let him know I know who he is either. The guy could do with a hit to his precious little ego."