Earth, Omaha, Nebraska

  Aubrey Hope, Heiress and Director of PR Strategy for Hope Pharmaceuticals

  The Omaha sunrise bled across the sky, casting long shadows that danced over the lush furnishings in Richard Hope’s high-rise office.

  Aubrey Hope braced herself against the chilly air and the inevitable clash of wills. This confrontation with her father would be a turning point, and failure wasn’t an option.

  The rich timbre of her father’s voice hit her ears, followed by crisp footfalls and a gust of air as he strode past her to his desk.

  Her father never simply entered a room. He occupied it. Dominated it. Brought it to heel.

  The blinding sunrise obscured the Omaha skyline in the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aubrey struggled not to squint as her father took his place behind the massive desk, steeling herself to stand her ground.

  For a moment, she was tempted to make her excuses and flee. But she willed herself to stay seated and waited for her father to speak first.

  If it surprised him to see her, he didn’t let it show. Richard Hope took his sweet time settling in as if Aubrey wasn’t there. He turned on his computer and didn’t look up as he said, “Well, daughter—this is certainly a surprise. To what do I owe the honor?”

  With a deep breath, Aubrey tried to sound confident in her reply.

  “We need to discuss our PR strategy.”

  “Oh?” He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t look away from his screen. “I don’t recall requesting a revised PR strategy.”

  He was using his fake bored voice, the one she hated.

  Aubrey clenched her fists under the desk, summoning patience.

  She wanted to pound her fists on the desk and demand that he let her do her job, but she knew it wouldn’t help her case. “We need to discuss the details of the PR strategy for the company’s pivot.”

  “Pivot?” He raised his eyebrows in ‘confusion’.

  He had the nerve to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. Aubrey’s patience snapped. “Dad,” Aubrey said, voice intense. “I’m your daughter. I love this company more than anyone but you. Just give me five minutes. Tell me what we’re up against, and I’ll tell you how we need to spin it.”

  She crossed her fingers under the desk.

  Her father huffed, seemed to think for a minute, and then turned to face her.

  “You want to know what we’re up against? Fine.” He crossed his arms and sat back, and for just a moment, his CEO mask slipped. Aubrey could see her father, weary, sitting across from her.

  Then he started talking, ticking off the points as he went.

  “First, we need to lay off 85% of our workforce—they don’t fit the new direction.”

  “Second, we’re taking on a government contract to field calls on Microbe X—the vacated space from all the people we’re about to fire is becoming a damn call center.”

  “Finally, we’re focusing everything we have on developing treatments for Syndrome Q, since it’s the only chronic illness left. We’re just days away from acquiring a small company with an app to help people manage their health, but we’re actually after the user base and their data.”

  He sat back in his seat.

  “Smart,” she said. “Acquiring Wellify is the best play we have.”

  Ugh. Aubrey cringed every time anyone said that name—whoever named that app should be dragged out back and shot.

  “It’s the only play left. It’s this, or close up shop. Honestly, some days, I’d rather just retire. But this plan buys us two years.” Again, the mask slipped, and he just looked tired.

  For a moment, Aubrey’s heart ached for him. But she couldn’t let emotion cloud her judgment. Not now. The company’s future hung in the balance, and she had to stay focused.

  He recovered his composure just as quickly, his tone taking on a biting edge.

  “So, tell me, daughter—how do we spin this without looking like bloodthirsty bastards who abandon our employees, get fat off government contracts, and prey on the last remaining population of sick people in this godforsaken world?”

  Aubrey leaned back in her seat and made a show of mulling it over.

  She didn’t need the time. Nothing her father had told her was news to her, but she took a few dramatic seconds before divulging her grand plan.

  “Something like this: ‘The medical industry has undergone a shakeup since the discovery of Microbe X. As longtime champions of the sufferers of chronic illness, we at Hope Pharmaceuticals would love to pack up our bags, declare victory over disease, and enjoy a well-deserved retirement.’”

  Aubrey leaned in.

  “But the battle isn’t over yet. While most of the world basks in unprecedented health, we at Hope Pharm have not forgotten those who find themselves afflicted with Syndrome Q.”

  “Hmm ...” he said. “A decent opening, setting us up as the champions of the helpless.” He nodded, expression unreadable as always. “Continue.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Then we juxtapose ourselves with other companies. For example: ‘While the rest of the industry closes its doors or turns its focus to more profitable life enhancement drugs, we choose to continue to fight the good fight. Today, we announce the acquisition of Wellify and the redirection of our firm. As of today, we are focusing 100% of our research efforts on finding a cure for Syndrome Q.’”

  “Okay. What about the bad news?”

  Aubrey gave a slight shrug. “The layoffs? We explain that hard choices were necessary to make the dream of a cure for Syndrome Q a reality. The government contract is easy enough to spin—it allows us to keep a close eye on any developments with Microbe X while buying us time and a source of funding while we search for a cure for Syndrome Q.”

  Time for the mitigation strategy.

  “Then, we announce a comprehensive plan to retrain our workforce for the Microbe X Information team and the Syndrome Q R&D team. We will continue to support our valued employees as we pivot company operations to stay true to our company’s core mission—creating ‘Hope’ for the sick.”

  Her father nodded, then shook his head. “It’s not bad, but there will still be backlash when the layoffs come. I can’t see many research scientists and middle managers taking us up on our ‘generous offer’ to repurpose them as glorified customer service reps.”

  “Well, no—but the optics are much better if we at least give them an option to stay employed. Honestly, Dad, you have to stop beating yourself up—you did everything you could. Every other company laid people off months ago.”

  Her father grunted his assent, but Aubrey could see that she was losing him. He glanced at his computer. Probably scanning his email.

  She needed to seal the deal, and fast. Thankfully, she still had an ace up her sleeve.

  “So that’s when we announce our partnership with Hayley Jo, and our joint campaign to raise visibility for the sufferers of syndrome Q.”

  “The pop star?” He lifted an eyebrow.

  “Sure, Hayley Jo has a hit single, but she also has a huge following. She’s also one of the most vocal sufferers of Syndrome Q.”

  Aubrey was hitting her stride. “Hayley’s the ideal face for our new initiative—and our future customer base adores her. This move also allows us to transition to ad campaigns once we develop treatments.”

  “Sounds like a long shot. What makes you think we can get her?” He looked intrigued, but more than a little skeptical.

  Aubrey sat back in her seat and let a slow smile sneak into her expression. “Hayley Jo is already on board.”

  It wasn’t precisely the truth, but Hayley’s manager had agreed to set up a meeting. Close enough.

  Her father gave her an appraising look, and she could practically see the wheels turning. He was just realizing that none of his ‘top secret revelations’ had been news to her.

  Maybe that would get his attention. It was time for him to see her as the badass business strategist she was rather than the pigtailed little girl he remembered.

  But she could tell he still had his doubts. Time to sell the vision.

  Aubrey leaned closer, all avid excitement and sweeping gestures.

  “Picture it: Hope Pharmaceuticals, continuing to fight the good fight. We will dominate the market for Syndrome Q treatments while garnering the support of its most beloved celebrity sufferer.

  “It’ll be like Michael J. Fox and Parkinson’s—or Sarah McLachlan and puppies.”

  She paused and stared him straight in the eyes. And willed him to see what she saw, to feel it, to fall in love with the idea. To buy what she was selling.

  See it, Dad, see it.

  He leaned forward and looked her dead in the eyes. And smiled.

  “I’m impressed, Aubrey. This is excellent work. Be ready to present this to the board on Friday, and plan to go public next week.”

  A thrill of victory shot through her, but she kept her expression neutral.

  It almost felt too easy.

  No, it did feel too easy. Richard Hope usually put up a fight even when he loved an idea, playing devil’s advocate and trying to poke holes in the plan. It was unusual for him to make such crucial decisions on the spot without even discussing them with the C-suite and board.

  A nagging sense of unease crept into Aubrey’s mind. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Aubrey managed to keep the surprise off her face and responded, oozing competence and professionalism. “I have a five-step plan to ensure everything goes off without a hitch.”

  “Excellent. We need to stay in front of this, Aubrey.” He wagged a finger at her and put on his CEO voice. “Employees hear it first, then we go public. We control the message.”

  He huffed and gave a partial eye-roll. “I’m already fielding rumors about us sniffing around the Wellify app, and I don’t want news of the sale to leak.”

  She matched his no-nonsense tone, hoping to wrap this up before he changed his mind. “I’m right there with you. If we control the narrative, then we don’t get stuck playing defense.”

  “Damn straight. Send Travis in on your way out.” He turned his attention to his computer and started typing away.

  Aubrey booked a hasty retreat to her office, careful not to broadcast her excitement as she went.

  When she returned to her office, she pulled out her phone and saw two more texts from Derrick. Which was fucking weird. They’d never been connected at the hip.

  Derrick: Did you see my post on Insta? Can’t wait for the wedding, babe. ;)

  Derrick: How’d it go? I’m excited to hear all about what you’ve cooked up in that brilliant head of yours.

  Okay, what the fuck? Why the hell was Derrick acting so needy?

  Then it hit her. Derrick was freaking out about his job like everyone else at Hope Pharm. Aubrey was preoccupied with working on her PR plan—meanwhile, all of Derrick’s projects were drying up.

  His people were likely updating their resumes and grilling him for info about the future of the company.

  She was going to need to fix this. Derrick was ambitious and demanding, which was part of what attracted her to him. But she was finding out that when he had nothing to do and no one to command, he was all up in her business.

  And that just wasn’t gonna work.

  Their relationship worked because they let each other have space to breathe. Derrick didn’t get after her for working too much, didn’t try to force her to be ‘nicer’ or expect her to put on a fucking apron and make him dinner.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Aubrey would need to throw him a bone, give him something to sink his teeth into.

  Then it occurred to her—even if Derrick weren’t her fiancé, he’d have been one of her top picks to manage the Wellify Integration Project. It wasn’t an obvious choice—he didn’t come from a tech background—but he could manage anything.

  His attractiveness and oozing charm made up for the fact that he was a brutal taskmaster. He somehow struck the perfect balance of being loved and feared in equal measure.

  And his track record for bringing projects in on time and under budget was notorious.

  It’d be easy to pull some strings and make sure he was the top candidate for the job ... and she realized she may have just found the solution to her little Derrick problem.

  Aubrey: Nailed it! I know the suspense is killing you, but you’ll have to sit tight for a few more days ...

  Aubrey: But never fear—something big is coming down the pipeline, and we’ll need your mad business skills to pull it off. Gotta run, see you tonight!

  That ought to handle it.

  After all, Derrick’s ambition had been at least part of why they’d gotten together. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t qualified.

  Maybe there was a little nepotism going on, but it was her dad’s company. Her father wouldn’t want her fiancé out of a job. Aubrey needed Derrick to be obsessed with work again, so he’d get off her back. Derrick would make sure the project was done right and on time.

  Win. Win. Win.

  Right?

  But as Aubrey settled back into her chair, unease lingered. Her father’s quick agreement, Derrick’s sudden clinginess—something was off, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

  She wished she felt more confident in her decision. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling she’d just been played.

  Aubrey spent the rest of the morning delegating components of the PR plan to her most trusted employees before hopping online for a little quick retail therapy.

  A new pair of strappy sandals could fix anything.