Chapter 3 - The First MondayMonday morning arrived with the bright, fierce Texas sun beating down on the streets of Dallas.
Madison woke up early, the scent of freshly brewed coffee pulling her out of bed. When she walked into the kitchen, she found Ethan already dressed in a clean, casual button-down shirt and dark jeans, sitting at the desk with his laptop open.
“Morning,” Ethan said, looking up with a welcoming smile. “Sleep okay?”
“Better than okay,” Madison admitted, stretching her arms. She looked at the kitchen counter, where a mug of coffee had been set out for her, already fixed just the way she liked it—a splash of oat milk, no sugar. “How did you know how I take my coffee?”
Ethan paused, a slight flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You mentioned it once yesterday while we were talking about your favorite breakfast spots. I pay attention.”
Madison felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest. In her father’s house, people listened only to reply, never to understand. Being noticed—truly noticed—felt like breathing fresh air after years in a sealed room.
“So,” Madison said, taking a sip of the coffee. “What’s the plan for today? I need to find a job. My savings account from my college internship is nearly gone, and I refuse to ask my father for a dime.”
Ethan closed his laptop halfway and leaned back in his chair. “Before you start pounding the pavement with a stack of resumes, we need to talk about logistics. Do you want to work in corporate administration again? Or is there something else you actually enjoy?”
Madison hesitated. “When I was studying business management at SMU, I always wanted to work in boutique real estate development and historical preservation. But my father forced me into a low-level accounting role at Whitaker Holdings so I could stay out of sight while Savannah took the public relations spotlight.”
“Historical preservation,” Ethan repeated, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “There’s a firm downtown called Vanguard Properties that specializes in restoring old commercial spaces. I happen to know they’re looking for a project manager with a sharp eye for asset organization.”
Madison raised an eyebrow. “You know people at Vanguard? Isn’t that run by Marcus Vance? He’s one of the most ruthless real estate moguls in the Southwest.”
Ethan’s lips twitched into a mysterious smile. “Marcus and I have crossed paths a few times. Let’s just say he owes me a favor or two. Why don’t you send me your resume? I’ll pass it along. See what happens.”
Madison looked at him skeptically. “Ethan, I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t want handouts. I want to earn this on my own merit.”
“It’s not a handout, Madison,” Ethan said gently, his voice carrying an undeniable authority that surprised her. “It’s an introduction. What you do with the interview is entirely up to you. But I promise you, you’re qualified.”
Trusting him felt easier than it should have. Throughout the morning, Madison updated her resume, pulling together records of the projects she had secretly managed for Whitaker Holdings—projects her father had taken credit for, but which she had run down to the last penny and blueprint.
May you like
By noon, she had sent the file to Ethan.
Little did she know, within ten minutes of hitting ‘send,’ that PDF was sitting in the private inbox of Marcus Vance, CEO of Vanguard Properties, accompanied by a single, encrypted text message from Ethan: Hire her. Give her the Heritage District portfolio. If she fails, blame me. She won't fail.
