Nobelpenの小説

CARRIE The next day at noon, the boardroom felt like it was holding its breath.Shane had called the emergency meeting with barely an hour’s notice. The entire executive team was seated. I sat two seats from the end, bracing for a storm, knowing so well that Nathaniel would fight back at Shane, though he already knew I had shown Shane the report.Shane entered the room, calm and confident in a dark suit, no tie, eyes unreadable. Every gaze turned to him as he took his place at the head of the table.“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice cool and clipped. “I will go straight to the purpose of this meeting guys,” he looked around the table. “As of today, the proposed merger with SharpLens Media is officially canceled.”“What?” someone near the center whispered.Nathaniel let out a dry chuckle. “The merger is practically done. What do you mean canceled?”Shane didn’t blink, he repeated, “the deal is off. Effective immediately.”Nathaniel leaned forward, disbelief turning sharp. “We’ve be

NATHANIEL I stormed into my office like a man possessed, my blood boiling so violently I could almost hear it rushing in my ears. The door slammed behind me, echoing the frustration roaring in my chest like a warning bell no one dared acknowledge.How dare she?How dare she.My steps were quick,and purposeful. I made a beeline for the liquor cabinet tucked discreetly in the corner, yanked it open like it had personally offended me, and grabbed the first bottle I touched; Glenfiddich, 18-year-old single malt.I didn’t bother with ice.Didn’t even pause.I poured a full glass, my hand tightened on the crystal tumbler, then I downed it in one sharp gulp. The burn seared down my throat, hot and punishing. But it did nothing to dull the white-hot anger threading through my body.Carrie Dalton! No, Carrie Blackwood now, as if the name entitled her to something had officially crossed a line this afternoon.I slammed the glass back down on the cabinet with a loud clink, the sound barely sat

A few minutes later I sat in the conference room and said, “I want all the ad copy drafts in my inbox by the close of business tomorrow. I glanced up from my laptop and looked at the faces of my team members. “Melissa,” I continued while I looked back at my computer screen, “I need a revised version of the Langford pitch deck. Cut it down to ten slides, and make sure we open with their projected social impact. Not the numbers, they want sentiment first.”Melissa nodded, already typing furiously into her tablet. “Got it boss.”“And Joel,” I added, “you’ll coordinate with Hani on the influencer shortlist for Carmichael. I want a draft strategy plan before lunch break tomorrow. Names, numbers, and proposed campaign duration.”“Will do,” Joel replied, flipping to a fresh page in his notepad. His handwriting was a mess, but he always delivered.I turned slightly to face Tyler, who’d been quiet through most of the meeting. “Tyler, I’m trusting you with media buying projections for both cam

I stared at my phone screen for a moment. My thumb hovering over my contacts list until it stopped on a name that still brought me a strange kind of comfort, Big Bro. Calvin. My only sibling. My anchor. My older brother who was thousands of miles away in Copenhagen but always close when it mattered. He picked up on the second ring. “Carr-Bear. What’s going on? You never call me during business hours unless something serious is happening.” His voice was warm and teasing. “Are you alright?” I let out a soft chuckle and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes. “I’m fine, Calvin. I only need your brain... and your gut.” “Uh-oh,” he said, his tone immediately sharpening. “Talk to me.” I walked to the window, staring out at the city below me but not really seeing it. “There’s something going on in the office.” “Okay,” he smiled tentatively and said, “I'm listening.” “There's this merger we are working on,” I started and then I told him everything. I laid it all

A few weeks later, I stood at the tall windows of my eleventh-floor office, the glass cool beneath my fingertips as I gazed out over the gray sprawl of downtown Chicago. It was immediately after lunch break. Below me, traffic inched along the rain-slicked streets in the usual tiny, predictable ways.Unlike my life.I couldn’t even find the right word to describe what I was going through. A storm had been gathering in my chest for two days, pressing down on my lungs like a weight I couldn’t shake off. My arms were crossed tightly, fingers digging into the soft sleeves of my navy-blue power suit. My nails bit into my skin, sharp little reminders that pain could sometimes help me think.I was at a crossroads. A dilemma that refused to solve itself.I turned and looked at the plastic folder lying open on my desk like a ticking bomb. I didn’t need to open it again, its contents were etched into my memory now. Pages of financial analysis, emails, internal memos. I had read them over and ove

“What the hell, Shane!” I wailed as two figures caught my eye in the dark at the back of the house. I moved nearer and there in the shadows they were.Shane, my husband and Cathy, his ex-girlfriend and now mistress. They were standing too close. Her hand rested on his chest. Her body angled toward him in that flirty, smug way that made my stomach churn. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. Her touch said enough. And Shane… he didn’t look like he was trying to stop her.My breath caught.“Cli…Clinton…I will call you back.” I rasped into the phone to one of my assistants that I was talking to on the phone. No. No, he wouldn’t. Knowing that I was just a few feet away. I walked closer to where they were standing. Then Shane saw me. He straightened, stepped back a bit.Cathy didn’t move an inch.She turned her head slowly toward me, smiling condescendingly; a smug, silken smile that screamed ‘he’s still mine; you’re just a placeholder.’My fists clenched at my si