Lines We Cross

Chapter 8

The buzz of the alarm was just a formality for YN that morning; she was already awake, staring up at the ceiling as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains. She had gone over the details of the weekend in her mind a hundred times, running through different scenarios and conversations, anticipating the questions that might come up during the business meetings. It wasn't just a golf weekend—it never was. This was about proving herself, about showing her father and his colleagues that she could hold her own in any setting.

After a quick shower, she pulled open her closet doors and began selecting outfits, tossing a few options onto the bed. Polished but not too formal—she needed to look the part without seeming overdone. She was in the middle of folding a crisp white shirt when Maya and Nina wandered in, each with a coffee cup in hand.

"Going somewhere fancy?" Maya asked, eyeing the neatly laid-out clothes on the bed. "Or just running away from us for the weekend?"

YN smirked, slipping a pair of tailored slacks into her suitcase. "Florida," she said simply. "Business trip with my dad. A couple of his executives are flying in for meetings, and he wants me to be there."

"Golf weekend, right?" Nina asked, perching on the edge of the bed and picking up one of the blouses. "So, this is more business than pleasure?"

"You could say that," YN replied, carefully packing a pair of shoes. "He wants me to listen, maybe speak up if I have something to contribute. It's all about these new projects he's been working on."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "No pressure, right?"

"Always pressure," YN corrected with a dry chuckle. "But it's nothing new." She zipped up the suitcase and glanced around the room, mentally ticking off the last few items she needed to grab.

"It's kind of badass, though," Nina said, leaning back on her hands. "You know, hanging out with executives and talking business while we're all here cramming, getting ready for midterms."

YN shrugged as if it were no big deal, but there was a glint of something in her eyes—pride, maybe, or the familiar edge that came with being a Sterling. "Just another day in the office e," she replied, slinging her leather jacket over her shoulder. "But trust me, I'd rather be here with you two watching Netflix than being in on those meetings."

"Sure you would," Maya teased. "Have fun being a young corporate shark, and don't forget to bring us back some sunshine."

YN gave a small laugh, shouldering her bag. "I'll see what I can do."

———

The drive to the airstrip was smooth and uneventful, the early morning traffic light enough that YN could let her mind drift a little. As she pulled onto the private road leading to the small airport, she could already see the jet waiting on the tarmac, sleek and pristine against the backdrop of the sky. It was a familiar sight—she'd been flying this way since she was a child, and the experience had long since lost any sense of novelty.

She handed the keys to the valet, grabbed her luggage, and made her way toward the plane. The pilot gave her a polite nod as she climbed the steps, and within minutes, they were airborne, the world below shrinking into a patchwork of fields and highways. YN settled into the plush leather seat, reaching for the files her father had sent her the night before. It was filled with notes and projections about the new projects they'd be discussing—investments, potential partnerships, all the details that made up the bigger picture of the Sterling empire.

The flight passed quickly, and before she knew it, they were descending toward a private airstrip just outside of Palm Beach. As the wheels touched down, YN braced herself, the familiar mixture of anticipation and resolve tightening in her chest. This was her element, in a way—a place where she knew exactly what was expected of her.

YN's father was waiting near the hangar, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they always were. Alexander Sterling was a man who commanded attention without needing to demand it, his presence alone enough to make people stand a little straighter. He greeted YN with a brief hug and a pat on the shoulder.

"Good to see you," he said, his voice carrying the same calm authority that had become his trademark. "How was the flight?"

"Smooth," YN replied, adjusting the strap of her bag. "Ready to go?"

Alexander gave a small nod, his gaze briefly drifting toward the approaching car that would take them to the golf course. "We've got a few meetings lined up over the next couple of days," he said as they climbed into the back seat. "The first one's at the club. It's casual—just a few rounds of golf while we discuss the basics. Nothing too formal."

YN's brow arched slightly. "And the game plan?" she asked, her voice steady.

"I want you to listen," he replied, his tone measured. "Observe how they handle the discussions, get a feel for their priorities. But don't hesitate to speak up if you have something to add. They'll be expecting you to contribute. You're not just here to watch."

"Understood," YN said, glancing out the window as the car sped along the coastal road, the ocean glinting in the distance.

———

The club was everything one would expect from an elite establishment—immaculate greens, towering palm trees, and a clubhouse that looked more like a luxury resort than a typical country club. YN could already see the executives gathered near the first tee, chatting amiably as they waited for her and her father to join them.

The rounds of golf played out as her father had described: casual, but with an underlying intensity as each man subtly tested the waters, gauging reactions and feeling out potential deals. YN listened carefully, chiming in with observations that were well-timed and measured. She could see the approving glances exchanged between the executives and her father, the way they responded with slightly more deference than when they first started.

At one point, as they walked toward the next hole, one of the executives, a man named Reynolds, glanced over at YN and said, "You're quite sharp for someone your age. You seem to have a good grasp of the broader picture."

"I've had a good teacher," YN replied smoothly, nodding toward her father.

Alexander gave her a brief, approving glance before turning back to Reynolds. "She's got a mind for it," he said. "Not afraid to get into the details."

The rest of the day continued in much the same way, and by the time they wrapped up, YN could sense that the tone had shifted. The men weren't just speaking to her as a young woman there for the experience; they were starting to treat her as a legitimate part of the discussion.

———

Later that evening, YN found herself sitting across from her father at a high-end steakhouse, the table set with crystal glasses and fine silverware. It was the kind of place that exuded old money, where the waiters moved silently and every meal was prepared to perfection.

Alexander raised his glass, a rare flicker of warmth crossing his features. "You handled yourself well today," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "You were listening, reading the room. More importantly, you spoke up when it mattered."

YN met his gaze, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. "Just following your example," she said with a small smile.

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine. "I could see it," he replied. "You reminded me of myself, actually. The way you kept control of the conversation, but knew when to let them talk. It's a skill, knowing how to balance confidence with restraint."

The compliment carried more weight than most people would realize. Coming from her father, it was high praise—an acknowledgment not just of her abilities, but of her place within the family's legacy.

As they dug into their steaks, the conversation drifted toward lighter topics—upcoming events, recent travel, a bit of news from the business world. But in the back of YN's mind, there was still the quiet satisfaction of knowing she had met her father's expectations, at least for now.

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1410 words

I'm sorry for posting less than usual, I'll be sure to write some more today :)