“And if it’s both? If Maya and I share values that extend beyond Highland’s preservation?”
“Then you pursue those values after the Highland situation is resolved. After you’ve proven you can make objective business decisions despite personal feelings.” Harrison’s expressionsoftens slightly. “I’m not saying Maya Navarro isn’t remarkable. I’m saying that remarkable women can be career-ending distractions if you handle them incorrectly.”
He checks his watch. “I have another meeting, but I want you to think about something—What would your father say about your handling of the Highland situation?”
His question follows me out of the club and into the early-evening traffic. What would Maxwell Pierce say about his son learning traditional dances and falling for community organizers? About boardroom decisions influenced by storage room kisses and collaborative meetings that feel more like dates?
He’d say I was weak. Compromised. Allowing sentiment to override strategic thinking.
He’d also say that business success requires sacrifice—that some things matter more than personal happiness.
But driving through downtown LA, passing the arts district where Highland sits and Maya works, I realize I’m tired of living up to my father’s expectations. Tired of measuring every decision against what Maxwell Pierce would have done.
For three years, I’ve been CEO Declan Pierce, carrying forward a legacy that prioritizes profit over everything else. Tonight, I want to be just Declan—the man who’s falling for a woman who fights for what matters, who challenges everything I thought I knew about building things of value.
My phone sits in the passenger seat, Maya’s address programmed into my GPS from when she mentioned the Meridian Apartments. I shouldn’t go there. I should drive home to my empty house in the Hills, review Highland’s financial projections with professional objectivity, and prepare for Monday’s board presentation without personal complications.
Instead, I find myself taking the exit toward Figueroa Street.
The rational part of my brain lists all the reasons this is a mistake—Harrison’s warnings about appropriate boundaries, the board’s skepticism about my judgment, the professional complications of getting involved with someone whose organization I might have to disappoint.
But the part of me that’s been coming alive over the past month—the part that learned Highland community members’ names and helped with cultural festival cleanup—doesn’t care about rational arguments.
I need to see Maya. I need to find out if what’s building between us is real or just proximity and shared goals. I need to stop being the CEO who makes careful, calculated decisions, and be the man who takes risks for things that matter.
The Meridian Apartments are exactly what I expected—modest, well-maintained, the kind of place where real people live real lives without pretension or corporate luxury. I park across the street and sit in my car for a moment, noting how different this neighborhood feels from the Hollywood Hills.
This is Maya’s world. Community-focused, authentic, grounded in relationships rather than acquisitions.
Harrison’s voice echoes in my head:Career-ending distractions if you handle them incorrectly.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my professional life. Maybe falling for Maya Navarro will compromise everything my father built, everything I’ve worked to maintain.
But sitting in my car across from her building, windows glowing warmly in the evening darkness, I realize I don’t care about maybe anymore.
I pull out my phone and type
I’m across the street from the Meridian Apartments.
The response takes forever—long enough for me to second-guess everything, to wonder if I’m making the biggest mistake of my career.
Then—
Maya:
What are you doing here?
Declan:
I needed to see you. But if you want me to leave, just say the word and I’ll go. No questions asked.
Another pause that feels eternal. I watch the lit windows of her building, my heart hammering against my ribs like it did when I was seventeen and calling girls for the first time.
Maya:
I don’t want you to leave.
Relief floods through me, followed immediately by anticipation that makes my pulse race.
