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“This is the Manhattan Youth Center,” Marco explained. “The city is sponsoring a design competition run by the Department of Buildings. Amultimillion-dollardesign competition. They want to take this crumbling youth center and rebuild it. And I want Poletti’s to throw our hat in the ring. It would be excellent exposure for the firm if we win. It would also look good in a portfolio for whoever’s design gets chosen.”
Whispers erupted around the table.
“Competition deadline is November 1,” Marco said, rubbing his peppery beard. “So, let’s say proposals are due to the leadership team by the last Monday in October at the latest. They’ll vet them and I’ll choose the best design out of those to put forth as our submission.”
A hand shot up. “Sir, do you want individual projects?”
Lydia turned to Jack. He was on the leadership team himself, though his question told Lydia that this announcement had been a surprise to the entire firm. Jack lowered his hand, sweeping it through his chestnut-brown hair. The tousled locks fell like unruly waves, parting on either side of his forehead, framing his face: Wide brow. Sharp jaw. Aquiline nose. And eyes so dark she’d always wondered if she’d find flecks of color buried within them like stars. With great effort, she dragged her eyes back across the table.
“Partner up or go solo,” Marco was saying. “Whatever you want. Just bring me your best work.”
Excited chatter whipped through the room like a summer breeze. It was the beginning of June. That gave them all about four and a half months before the deadline. Anticipation stirred in Lydia’s gut. She’d wanted a chance to prove that she could be great, and here it was, practically falling into her lap.
Jack stood, replacing Marco at the front of the room. Lydia’s heart thumped unevenly in her chest as his gaze passed around the table. He took control of the slideshow. “After all that excitement, I’m sure everyone is eager to find out what our office outreach event will be for the latter half of this year.” He flipped through some slides from previous years—soup kitchens, animal rescues. “We’ve had a lot of really great volunteer opportunities in the past, but this year, we think we’ve come up with something pretty special.”
Jack changed the slide to a photo of a man crossing a finish line, arms outstretched, mouth open in triumphant relief. Or excruciating pain—it was hard to tell.
“Poletti’s is going to put together a team to run the New York City Marathon.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Erik whispered under his breath for only Lydia to hear.
Silence followed Jack’s big announcement. Lydia herself would have been unnerved by the reaction, but Jack remained perfectly composed. “I know you have questions. I can see them burning in your eyes. So fire away.”
“Isn’t it hard to get into the marathon?” someone piped up.
“It can be,” Jack said. “But Poletti’s would be entering on behalf of a charity. I was going to put the charity to a vote, but now I’m thinking we should run for one that supports the Manhattan Youth Center. I looked it up while Marco was talking. They still have charity race slots available. Seems to me like a really good way to combine both the design competition and our outreach project.”
Lydia pressed her lips together, keeping her thoughts to herself. It was a nice idea. Poletti’s just wasn’t exactly the kind of firm that went running together...
“Hear me out before you say no,” Jack said, ticking points off on his fingers. “It really is for a good cause. We would do a lot of fundraising. There are wonderful health benefits that come with training for a marathon. And it’ll be great for team bonding.”
Erik lifted his hand. “I will give you money just so I don’t have to run.”
“I will double it,” someone else said.
A chuckle wrapped around the table, but Jack still looked so ridiculously hopeful standing up there with his eager smile.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Lydia said before she could stop herself. Next to her, Kirsten snorted and lowered her head.
“See,” Jack said excitedly. “This is what I’m talking about. Enthusiasm. Where’s that team spirit?”
“I left it in the hospital with my last knee replacement,” someone muttered.
Jack laughed, humoring the group. “Okay, I get it. Not everyone is going to run. Not everyonehasto run. We’ll put together a small team of interested people. Me for starters. Lydia, thank you for volunteering.”
Erik turned to her, perplexed. “I didn’t know you were a runner.”
Kirsten was practically wheezing beside her while all Lydia could do was gape.
“Anyone that can’t or doesn’t want to run can help with fundraising,” Jack continued. “You can also be there to support the team on race day and you’re free to join any office training sessions. I’ll need to coordinate with the charity and get us registered as soon as possible, so I’ll put out an email blast this afternoon to confirm details.”
Marco stood, hands on his hips, grinning at them like an overeager track coach. “This is gonna be really great for Poletti’s.” He pointed to Kirsten. “Definitely going in the newsletter.”
Kirsten gave him a thumbs-up. “You got it, boss.”
Jack closed out his presentation and walked around the table to high-five Lydia. She lifted her hand on autopilot and his fingers tangled with hers. “All right, running buddy. Marathon here we come.”
Lydia’s pulse danced in her throat. How was this both the best and worst day of her life?
