CHAPTER FOURIt was Pitch day.I stood in the Martinez Architecture conference room at 7:45am, fifteen minutes early, wearing my best armor: a tailored black suit that I hoped said “take me seriously,” heels that added three inches to my height, and my hair pulled back in a sleek bun that meant business. My presentation was loaded and ready. My notes were organized.I could do this even if my hands were a little shaky.The conference room was all glass and steel, with a view of lower Manhattan that usually made me feel powerful just made me feel exposed. The presentation screen dominated one wall. A long table sat twelve people comfortably. By eight o’clock, it would be filled with the people who would decide my future.My father arrived at 7:50, coffee in hand, and pulled me into a quick hug. “Ready, mija?”“As I’ll ever be.”“You’ve got this. I’ve seen your work. It’s good.” He pulled back, his expression serious. “But I want you to know, whatever happens today, I’m proud of you. Fo
Last Updated : 2025-10-28 Read more