Chapter 1

Huge panes of glass, seamlessly connecting two adjacent walls, made one feel like a bird looking down on New York Harbor. The office filled one top corner of the downtown skyscraper, and on a clear day Sue Holloway had a breathtaking view of the Statue of Liberty in the distance, not that she gave it any notice. What she preferred to stare at were the wide eyes and open mouths of people sitting in her visitors' chairs gaping at the sight. She had literally made it to the top.

But even now, alone in her office, Sue wasn't staring out the window. She opened and slammed drawer after drawer in her massive oak desk, rummaging through the contents. Where the fuck is it? her mind screamed inside her pounding head. Goddamn that asshole! He'll pay mightily for screwing up again! Her hand darted to the intercom.

The door opened quietly and a young man appeared. Trevor shifted from foot to foot, his eyes fleetingly meeting his boss' glare.

"Where's my fuckin' aspirin?" she shouted.

"In your right upper drawer." The response was soft, timid. His eyes dropped to the toes of his brightly polished black shoes peeking out from navy cuffs like a pair of turtle heads. At that moment he envied turtles, wishing he could pull back into the safety of a shell.

"No they're not, moron! I looked there! Why can't you--?"

"Ms. Holloway, the intercom."

Annoyed at being interrupted, Sue's eyes nevertheless shifted. The area around her polished fingernail was a pinkish-white. Lifting her finger from the intercom button, she withdrew her hand.

"May I?" Trevor continued in his soft voice knowing his coworkers had heard her yelling and the annoying buzzing. No other assistant's desk was equipped with that damn device.

Trevor walked slowly towards Sue, stopping momentarily when she stiffened. Taking a deep breath and letting it out silently, he stepped around her chair and opened the top right drawer. A knot formed in his gut, his heart pounded, and the clammy feeling in his palms that he hated so much appeared. Stooping, he peered inside, not daring to glance to the side. He had seen that look too many times. Wiping his hand on his pants, he carefully shifted some papers and other objects, reaching toward the back of the drawer. His slightly trembling hand reappeared with the green bottle held delicately between his index finger and thumb. Placing it noiselessly on the desktop, Trevor stood and scurried back to the other side of the desk. He stood there with fists clenched behind his back.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get out!"

Spinning on the ball of his foot, like a soldier doing an about-face, Trevor took the few steps and shut the door behind him, collapsing against the solid wood. The whoosh of air from his loud sigh blew the lock of hair dangling on his forehead as he glanced around the room, seeing what he hated most, the pity in his coworkers' eyes. His gaze dropped to his shoes once again. Like so many times before, the recent graduate wanted to storm into his boss' office and yell, "I quit!" or more accurately, "I quit, you mother-fucking, scum-sucking bitch!" But there was a recession and someone with no experience stood little chance of finding employment. He'd put up with anything not to move back in with his parents.

"Is Shrew in one of her moods?"

Trevor's chin rose from his chest and he turned to the desk next to his, at the cute redhead. It was said in a whisper, but just loud enough. Nodding, Trevor's shoulders slumped as he walked slowly to his desk and plopped into the chair. When he had first heard the play on his boss' name he had chuckled, but it was no longer funny. The reality of Sue's behind-her-back nickname was too painful. Sighing again, Trevor returned to work.

In her office, Sue Holloway's fingers ruthlessly twisted the plastic cap, squeezing more tightly than necessary to overcome the childproof mechanism. Dumping the white round tablets onto her palm, her hand crashed into her open mouth as her head tilted back. One loud unladylike gulp began the healing process; at least she hoped it would. Lately her headaches were coming more frequently and were more difficult to dispel.

With a groan, Sue's body slumped forward, her open hands catching her face, her elbows digging dents in the black leather desk pad. She closed her eyes and sighed. She was proud of her success, but it came with overbearing responsibilities. Difficult decisions had to be made every day, all the time. One mistake and she'd tumble from the ladder of success much faster than it took her to climb it.

Sue had always been driven, always competitive. As a child she failed at sports, her petite girlish body a great disadvantage -- and Sue Holloway didn't like losing! So she competed academically, becoming an A student, captain of the debating team, captain of the chess team, editor of the school newspaper, and so on. She finished at the top of her class at every level, reveling in her success. But it came at a price. Even when she was little her peers called her names -- back then to her face -- such as, "nerd the turd," "ass-licker," "teacher's pet," "Suzy losey." As she got older and her body molded into a luscious woman with striking dark wavy hair and bright blue eyes highlighting a face destined for Hollywood, for Sue Holloway it was the same. She could have been popular -- captain of the cheerleaders and prom queen -- but the earlier name calling deeply scarred her. She became a loner, not needing anyone. Some boys couldn't resist her beauty, but after she viciously humiliated them in public no one else dared approach her. Sue had had no social life -- no friends, no dates, nothing. To her, the others were bugs ready to be stomped on. And after completing her degrees she competed in the workplace, doing whatever it took to reach the top -- working harder than anyone else, working more hours, lying, stepping on anyone and everyone in her way. At 33 years old, Sue Holloway was the youngest Executive Vice President the firm ever had.

But success came with responsibilities and never ending decisions. Gut wrenching decisions. Career breaking decisions. It was so overwhelming that simple, everyday decisions became a burden, taxing her mind and causing her to reach for the bottle of aspirin often.

Sue Holloway looked up when she heard the tapping on the door. The red marks her fingers left on her forehead shifted as her brow furrowed. Who the fuck can that be? Please, no more problems.

"Come in." The door swung open and her eyes narrowed when she saw Trevor. To her he was just another insignificant bug. "What the fuck do you want? No, get out! I don't give a shit what you want."

Trevor's body turned slightly, wanting nothing more than to leave. But he stopped and faced his boss. "Um, Mrs. Anderson called and, um, she said Mr. Willard, um..."

Sue leaned forward. Just the mention of the CEO's name, and that of his administrative assistant, caught her attention. "Well, what does Willard want? Come on, moron, you're paid to take messages and give them to me. Don't just stand there like an idiot."

"She said he wants to know what you are doing about the Universal account."

Sue covered her eyes and slowly shook her head from side to side. Then she reached for the bottle and ripped it open, popping two more little tablets into her mouth. The pounding inside her head increased, sounding like blasts of a tuba, and her thoughts screamed to be heard over it. I don't know what the fuck to do. It's not my fault Jack's plane got grounded. Shit, we can't lose the Universal account. We just can't. What am I going to do? I'm brain dead. A blank. Shit, I gotta tell Willard something. But it has to be right. I can't make a mistake. Why do I have to make all the decisions?

Trevor swayed from side to side, two fingers inside his collar tugging it. He stared at his boss. It was the first time she looked helpless. Her elbows were on her desk and her face buried inside her hands. Her breaths were as ragged as his. He thought she might even hyperventilate or -- something totally inconceivable -- cry?

"Ms. Holloway..." Trevor waited, holding his breath. And then Sue's palms slid partway down her face, dragging the skin under her eyes down with them, exposing the red blood vessels normally hidden. Her distorted eyes stared blankly at him as if she forgot he was still there. "Ms. Holloway, Mr. Flemming is in St. Louis winding up his meetings. I'm sure he can swing by and meet with the Universal people."

"Flemming? Who needs Flemming? I need Jack Wondling. It's his account, idiot!" Sue's eyes closed, her fingertips pressing on her temples.

"Yeah, but Universal used to be Mr. Flemming's account. He knows all the players. He--"