“We have projects of all kinds under development, across the world, and here in New York. Big ones, small ones, lucrative ones—pedestrian ones…” His eyes go to mine. “I need someone with the…forgive the expression, dear, but—the balls to take on new and exciting and daring ideas.”
I could see where he was going with this. “You want me as your risk-taker.”
He smiles. “Indeed. You will answer to me, and to James in my absence. You will have a discretionary fund at your disposal, and you will be required to find, pitch, and develop your own projects. You may have a select number of my employees moved over to work for you, but you are responsible. You know my expectations where risky ventures are concerned, and I think you share my viewpoint on such things.”
“There’s no reward without risk, but risks must be carefully calculated,” I answer.
He nods. “Precisely.” He smiles at me, and I know that smile—a tiny little mischievous twist of his lips; it meant he had something else up his sleeve. “You realize this will be a test for you, don’t you?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning BRED—” the in-house acronym for the real estate arm, “has been operating without a permanent leader for some time. The person currently heading it is able to run it perfectly well, and it is profitable, but he’s not a forward thinker, nor is he creative. He chooses projects that are sure to succeed, within his scope of experience.” He taps my portfolio—which includes the list of projects I’ve worked on, as an intern, as a new hire at a different firm right out of NYU, and then as senior project manager here. “You were not lead on any of these, obviously, but I see your fingerprints all over each of them. Location, architect, certain stylistic and functionality elements…you have talent, and all you need now is room to really stretch your wings, a little—to be creative. And to do that, you have to have room to fail.”
“Dad, I—”
“So, you will work for me on a probationary status—I’ll be watching. I’ll be there to guide as necessary. But you’ll have the full weight of my expectations, because you’ll be playing with my money—my personal money, rather than business capital.” He pauses. “Prove yourself to me, and you’ll be CEO of Bellanger Real Estate Development before you can blink.” A slow grin. “And, assuming you succeed in this, which you will, of course, you’ll be up there in a matter of a few years—” He points at the adjoining wall, meaning the office of the vice president of Bellanger Industries. I know he’s always wanted to see me there—and it’s where I’ve always wanted to end up, I just hadn’t expected to see that office being so attainable so soon.
I suck in a breath. “This is not what I was expecting this morning, Dad.”
“I know.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to play games, Brooklyn. I don’t have the patience for such things. I’ve spent the last ten years of your life readying you to work with me—” He taps the table in emphasis. “Withme, Brooklyn, not justforme.”
I sigh, nodding. “I know. I should’ve known you’d have other ideas than to let me slog through the ranks.”
He nods, grinning. “I’m glad you see this from my point of view. I’ll leave James and Harriet to fill you in on the details. James will draw up the contract for you; fill you in on the particulars. I’ll expect your first pitch within…say, two weeks?”
I blink at him—or rather, at his receding back, his broad shoulders, salt-sprinkled brown hair. Two weeks? To pick my team, decide on a project, and work up a pitch for him? I stare at James, who reads my mind, it seems; that’s not enough time. But that’s Dad, for you: load you up with privilege and responsibility, and then expect the world from you. Funny thing is, it works.
“Two weeks. Spend most of that choosing your team. We have compiled a list for you, of the most talented and promising individuals from our roster—keep your team small, would be my advice, a dozen people, at most.” He slides over a folder containing the details of my new job.
I read it over—the sum Dad is allowing me to work with is…mind boggling. I don’t expect to use it all on the first job, of course. Start small, get my feet wet as the lead. I have two quarters to develop the first project, and I’m expected to have at least three projects finished within the first two years. It’s an aggressive schedule, and a sign that he wants to me stay small and focus on quality rather than scrabble hard and fast for the biggest numbers.
James passes me another folder, this one much thicker, containing the entire list of development projects in process or recently completed, as well the pitches on the table being considered—research, so I know what to look for and what to pitch. He wants something outside the box.
I sign the contract, slide it back to James, and gather the materials he’s given me. “I’d best get to work then, hadn’t I?”
He nods, and then tilts his head to one side. “Would you like to see your new office?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Office? I get a new office?”
He chuckles. “You get several. Most of a floor, in fact. The contract with the company leasing floor space in this building expired, leaving that space open. Mr. Bellanger has allotted it for your use. A corner office, three smaller offices, a kitchen, a break room, a multi-use flex space, and a conference room, its own receptionist desk.” He slides over a set of keys. “Follow me.”
Three stories down from Dad’s top-floor warren, I have my own little corner of office space. As we get there, I see that the space is partitioned off as a separate set of offices—the previous tenants’ branding has been removed, and Dad has had his people stencil “Bellanger Real Estate Development” on the door, with his logo, and my name in all capital letters beneath it.
I frown at James as we pause at the door. “My name is already on the door?”
James smirks, shrugs. “He’s been anticipating this for some time.”
I sigh. “Figures. Dad is always ten steps ahead.”
James laughs. “Ten? Try fifteen or twenty.”
“So he knew I’d want this opportunity, and he got this ready for me.”
“The list of staff I’ve given you were handpicked by your father to work with you—to workforyou. When you’re CEO, they will be your team, and these next few years will be your trial by fire as a unit.”
“So, no pressure.”
James narrows his eyes at me as I unlock the office door. “I understand that you’re kidding, Brooklyn, but make no mistake—thereispressure. A lot of it. And expectations—very high ones. CEO of real estate within two years, vice president of Bellanger Industries in five…” His pale blue eyes fix on mine. “President and CEO before you’re forty.”
