Ambition: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Driven Book 1)

"You have a visitor," Vanessa said, "not on the schedule."

I looked over my work, and noted that for the most part it was just implementing things that Mark and Sophie had worked out the day before. It was a big part of my job, making their decisions look like my ideas. Mark gave me a lot of leeway too though, which I appreciated. It made me feel like part of the team and not just window dressing. "That's okay Vanessa. Who is it?"

"Ms. Berkowitz," Vanessa said evenly, her eyes flickering back over her shoulder. I understood. "From the Union."

It was a rather unique thing about our city, in that while there were many unions, they all tended to align under one association, which after struggling through about a half dozen awkward acronyms just came to be known as the Union, emphasis on the capital letter. The Union was a monolith, and had been very powerful in city politics for many years. Worse, they’d become very corrupt.

Francine Berkowitz was one of the deadliest political enemies in the city. After Marcus Smiley had more or less made a fool of her right before the shit hit the fan with Owen Lynch, she'd laid pretty low on our part, but I could tell she was waiting for a chance to move. Running my hands through my hair, I nodded to Vanessa. "Show her in, please. And if you could, see if we have any coffee or something similar to offer our guest?"

"Of course..... Tabby," Vanessa said, a worried smile on her face. Hey, it was a start.

Francine Berkowitz came into the office like she was queen of the city, in a Ralph Lauren Black Label shirtdress that cost more than most union workers made in a month. "Tabby Williams, it's a pleasure to meet you," she exclaimed in faux good humor, as if we were sorority sisters who just happened to meet at the steeplechase or something. She even spread her arms out like we were going to do air kisses. I had to resist the urge to pretend to puke, it was so nauseating. "I must apologize in not coming by earlier."

"Ms. Berkowitz, have a seat," I replied, offering my hand. She slowed her approach and took the offered hand, her smile disappearing and her eyes tightening at the gesture. I didn't really care if I wasn't this woman's friend, but I didn't need to make her totally pissed off at me either. "What can I do for you today?"

"I just wanted to come by and congratulate you on your new project," Berkowitz said, taking the seat on the other side of my desk. I wasn't looking to be informal with this woman, and while my desk may not have been as intimidating as something in the Oval Office, it had the advantage that my seat was just a bit taller than hers. She had to look up to me, while I could actually lean on my desk and look slightly down at her. It wasn't originally done on purpose, Mark had chosen the chairs due to their design rather than height. I just took advantage of the situation when I needed it.

"Why thank you, Ms. Berkowitz. MJT is just hoping to make a difference in the community," I replied. "If anything, the renovations and opening of the centers themselves is going to inject a lot of much needed money into the community."

"Yes, I agree. In fact, it was those renovations that are the crux of the matter," Berkowitz said. "You must agree that this city has a fine history of construction workers and experts, all under the convenience of the Union banner."

“I’ll admit that Union workers have done some impressive work," I replied. "The Financial Tower, the Hamilton Building, and many others I'm sure were done by Union workers."

"Exactly," Berkowitz said with a hint of enthusiasm. "Nowadays, that sort of quality is important. The Union built this city, Tabby. It should have a role in rebuilding it as well."

Vanessa brought in two cups of coffee in our best ceramic mugs, which were admittedly not too much. The MJT offices were built off of functionality, not flashy appearances. Sophie had, in the one time she'd come by after everyone was gone, called it 'dot-com startup chic.' Whatever the case, I happily took the thick handled mug with 'World's Best Dad' written on the side, leaving the plain red mug for Berkowitz. Thanking Vanessa, I offered my guest the bowl of sugar cubes. "We have cream as well. The real stuff, not non-dairy."

"No thanks, I take it black," she replied, while I loaded mine up with cream and sugar. She arched her eyebrow, and harrumphed. "Well, I guess having a gym downstairs has its advantages."

"It does," I said, not mentioning that most of the time I worked out at home with Mark and Sophie. "But as to your point, I do agree that Union workers did a lot of good for the city. And, I hope they can be in a position to help with our project as well. It all comes down to their bids, really."