the logic and then we can start testing it with real data.”
“Did they give you an ETA?”
“End of the month.”
“You think they’ll meet that target?”
“I’m cautiously optimistic.” She ventured a smile. “They’ve been good at hitting milestones so far.”
“Good.” His impeccable British accent, as usual, gave no clue as to what he might be thinking or feeling. If he had feelings. Daniel Carling made blizzards seem warm. He was good at his job but not someone who believed in being friends with his coworkers. “How long have you worked here now, Amelia?”
“Five years,” she said, knowing full well he knew the answer to the question. Daniel had joined the bank only a year ago, taking over from her old boss when he’d jumped ship to a rival firm. Iceman or not, he understood economics and so far hadn’t tried to micromanage the team of economists she worked in. But he had put each of them through a series of seemingly casual lunches with him when he’d first arrived, grilling them not so subtly about their job histories and more.
“That’s a long time,” he said.
It was, in a way. But she liked working for Pullman. The money was good, and they’d made it through the global financial crisis less battered than many other banks, so she was happy to stay for now. She waited as Daniel studied her with ice-gray eyes that matched the silver starting to show in his hair and the polished cuff links at his wrist. He took cool, calm, and collected to an art form. But she had gotten somewhat used to his act over the last year. He didn’t completely intimidate her anymore.
“Are you still interested in working in one of the overseas offices?” he said eventually.
Yes! She almost shouted the word but that was hardly the impression she was hoping to give. She took a breath, tried to sound calm. “If an opportunity came up that was suitable for me,” she said, “then, yes, I’m interested.” Pullman had offices in Hong Kong, Saigon, and Sydney. She’d wanted to travel for as long as she could remember, but apart from one distinctly shoestring-budget trip to Mexico one spring break, she’d never left the United States.
“Good to know,” Daniel said.
Amelia studied him. He didn’t know how she’d grown up. How tight things had been after her dad had left. Her mom couldn’t afford fancy vacations when Amelia had been little, and then she’d gotten sick. Expensive sick. Breast cancer. Complications. Years and years of not enough money and too many bills. It had only been the kindness of the Castros—who’d insisted Amelia live with them when her mom had been in the hospital, who’d given them the garage apartment at their house when there’d been no rent money, and who’d given her mom work when she’d been well enough to work—that had kept them from complete disaster. Not to mention what Finn had—
No. She pushed the memories away. She had to focus on Daniel. On her goals. On what she’d been slaving for since she’d left college. She’d paid off the small student loans she’d incurred despite her scholarships and she’d saved enough for a deposit to help her mom buy a tiny apartment. Between all of that, the New York cost of living, and buying the kinds of clothes she was expected to wear for work, there’d been no money or time for travel.
One day. One day she’d visit all the places she’d read about and seen on TV. Until then, she would stick to her plan. She’d given herself six years on Wall Street to make sure she’d built a nest egg, taken care of her mom, and added some weight to her résumé. If she couldn’t get a transfer with Pullman by then, she was going to woman up and apply for jobs in London or Hong Kong or Australia. Anywhere that wasn’t the United States.
She’d been here just on five years but so far an opening hadn’t come up. Not one that they seemed to think she was qualified for anyway. There had been a few in the first two years she’d
“Did they give you an ETA?”
“End of the month.”
“You think they’ll meet that target?”
“I’m cautiously optimistic.” She ventured a smile. “They’ve been good at hitting milestones so far.”
“Good.” His impeccable British accent, as usual, gave no clue as to what he might be thinking or feeling. If he had feelings. Daniel Carling made blizzards seem warm. He was good at his job but not someone who believed in being friends with his coworkers. “How long have you worked here now, Amelia?”
“Five years,” she said, knowing full well he knew the answer to the question. Daniel had joined the bank only a year ago, taking over from her old boss when he’d jumped ship to a rival firm. Iceman or not, he understood economics and so far hadn’t tried to micromanage the team of economists she worked in. But he had put each of them through a series of seemingly casual lunches with him when he’d first arrived, grilling them not so subtly about their job histories and more.
“That’s a long time,” he said.
It was, in a way. But she liked working for Pullman. The money was good, and they’d made it through the global financial crisis less battered than many other banks, so she was happy to stay for now. She waited as Daniel studied her with ice-gray eyes that matched the silver starting to show in his hair and the polished cuff links at his wrist. He took cool, calm, and collected to an art form. But she had gotten somewhat used to his act over the last year. He didn’t completely intimidate her anymore.
“Are you still interested in working in one of the overseas offices?” he said eventually.
Yes! She almost shouted the word but that was hardly the impression she was hoping to give. She took a breath, tried to sound calm. “If an opportunity came up that was suitable for me,” she said, “then, yes, I’m interested.” Pullman had offices in Hong Kong, Saigon, and Sydney. She’d wanted to travel for as long as she could remember, but apart from one distinctly shoestring-budget trip to Mexico one spring break, she’d never left the United States.
“Good to know,” Daniel said.
Amelia studied him. He didn’t know how she’d grown up. How tight things had been after her dad had left. Her mom couldn’t afford fancy vacations when Amelia had been little, and then she’d gotten sick. Expensive sick. Breast cancer. Complications. Years and years of not enough money and too many bills. It had only been the kindness of the Castros—who’d insisted Amelia live with them when her mom had been in the hospital, who’d given them the garage apartment at their house when there’d been no rent money, and who’d given her mom work when she’d been well enough to work—that had kept them from complete disaster. Not to mention what Finn had—
No. She pushed the memories away. She had to focus on Daniel. On her goals. On what she’d been slaving for since she’d left college. She’d paid off the small student loans she’d incurred despite her scholarships and she’d saved enough for a deposit to help her mom buy a tiny apartment. Between all of that, the New York cost of living, and buying the kinds of clothes she was expected to wear for work, there’d been no money or time for travel.
One day. One day she’d visit all the places she’d read about and seen on TV. Until then, she would stick to her plan. She’d given herself six years on Wall Street to make sure she’d built a nest egg, taken care of her mom, and added some weight to her résumé. If she couldn’t get a transfer with Pullman by then, she was going to woman up and apply for jobs in London or Hong Kong or Australia. Anywhere that wasn’t the United States.
She’d been here just on five years but so far an opening hadn’t come up. Not one that they seemed to think she was qualified for anyway. There had been a few in the first two years she’d
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