The Billionaire’s Last Clause
"We need a compelling narrative around the Westside development project."
"Of course." I pull the folder closer, grateful for the distraction.
Luca is kind. Mid-thirties, married with twin daughters whose photos cover his desk.
"You have a gift for this," he says, reviewing my work from yesterday. "Most analysts just regurgitate data. You tell stories that make people want to invest."
"Literature degree." I smile, though it feels fragile. "Turns out it's useful for something besides coffee shop employment."
"Well, we're lucky to have you." He heads back to his desk, calling over his shoulder, "Team lunch at noon. You're coming this time, right?"