There was no way Matt—who couldn’t keep the names of their vendors straight and who complained that reading blueprints gave him a “headache”—got promoted over Farrah.
No freaking way.
“Wow, thanks so much.” Matt grinned, not appearing at all surprised by the news. “This is such an honor.”
Jane smiled tersely. “It was Kelly’s decision. Matt, can you give me and Farrah some privacy? I need to speak to her alone.”
“Of course.” Matt patted Farrah’s shoulder on the way out. “Better luck next time.” He oozed condescension.
Farrah flip-flopped between the urge to throw up and the desire to clock Matt in the face.
No. You are not a violent person. Take a deep breath. In one, two, three. Out one—aaaargh!
Jane examined Farrah with a worried frown. “How are you feeling?”
How do you think I’m feeling? Farrah bit back her caustic reply and forced a smile instead. “I’m fine. I’m happy for Matt.”
Her manager sighed. “Farrah, you and I both know you’re supremely talented. That’s why we promoted you to a mid-level role so quickly after you joined the firm. You did exceptional work on the Z Hotels project. Exceptional.” She shook her head. “Please do not take this as a negative reflection of your work or your role here at KBI. You’re a valued member of the team.”
“But not valued enough to receive the promotion.”
Jane hesitated. “The final decision wasn’t mine to make.”
“I know. It was Kelly’s.” Farrah met the other woman’s gaze. “Tell me the truth. Did the fact that Matt is Kelly’s godson play a role in her decision?”
Jane didn’t answer, but the look on her face said it all.
Disappointment snaked through Farrah. She’d idolized Kelly since she was a teenager and had been over the moon about interning at KBI after she won the National Interior Design Association’s student competition in college. Sure, Kelly as a person was more aloof, competitive, and demanding than she’d expected—not exactly mentor material—but Kelly was also one of the top interior designers in America. She had to be demanding.
But Farrah thought Kelly valued talent. Hard work. Meritocracy. It was one thing for her to push up Matt’s promotion to a mid-level role. There were no limits on those. It was another for Kelly to promote Matt over someone who’d given the company everything she had these past three years.
Matt hadn’t given a shit about the Z Hotels project. He’d seen it as an opportunity to schmooze with a hotel heir and add a line to his resume without doing any of the hard work. Farrah was the one who’d burned the midnight oil every night, scrambling to pull things together. She was the one who’d spent hours on the phone with contractors, smoothing over issues and misunderstandings. She was the one who’d ensured they delivered great results on time, even if Kelly received all the glory.
Farrah didn’t think she was entitled to a promotion, but dammit, she’d earned it.
“There’ll be another promotion opportunity in two years,” Jane said. “Be patient. Your time will come. I promise.”
Maybe that was true, but Farrah knew she’d never win in a game where nepotism ruled. Still, she wasn’t a risk-taker by nature, which was why the next words out of her mouth surprised her as much as they did the woman sitting across from her.
“I quit.”
Chapter Two
“This place is sick.” Blake Ryan took in the matte hardwood floors, high ceilings, and wall of windows offering spectacular views of the Hudson River and city skyline. “Thanks for hooking me up.”
“Any time. Glad to have you in the city for good.” His oldest and best friend Landon Zinterhofer clapped him on the back. “Besides, I’m not the one who paid for it.”
Blake laughed. His new two-bedroom, waterfront West Village condo cost an arm and a leg, but it was worth it. He’d been flitting around the world for too long, never staying in a city for more than a few months at a time. It’d been fun at first, but now he craved stability, and there was no better place he’d rather settle down than in one of his favorite cities in the world: New York.
“How’d the hotel turn out?” he asked.
Landon had fought his mother tooth and nail on the revamping of her precious New York flagship hotel, but he’d worn her down and spent the past year running around like a crazy person. Between his project and Blake’s constant travels, this was the first time they’d seen each other face-to-face in half a year.
“Great.” Landon raked a hand through his black hair. “We got fantastic press and the new interiors are amazing. Even better than I’d imagined. I could refer you. The design firm did a top-notch job.”
“The bar design is set,” Blake reminded his friend. Besides buying his apartment and ending his nomadic lifestyle, he had another reason for coming to New York: Manhattan was getting its very own Legends.
Since Blake’s original Legends sports bar took off in Austin four years ago, he’d expanded the brand into a renowned international chain at a breakneck pace. From London to L.A., Legends was the place to go on game days. Even on non-game days, it buzzed with activity thanks to its bar Olympics, theme and trivia nights, and celebrity guest bartenders. It was a rite of passage for NFL, NBA, and MLB players to do at least one stint behind the bar of their local Legends. Blake had even bought back Landon’s share of the company last year.