CALHOUN'S POV
As if that weren't enough on his plate, Jordan also happens to be a very talented artist, and he frequently creates art for Ella's gallery.
Mike, Jordan, and I started Acercraft, but we don't have to stick to the three-managing partner model.
I'm silent for a bit.
"You know, the Three Musketeers don't have to…" I begin.
"Don't fucking say it, dweeb."
"You're like an ostrich, Jordan. Burying your head in the sand doesn't change the cold, hard facts. You're slipping. Massively."
He sighs. "I know. I'm just caught between the two…"
"You've always had a problem knowing when to let go."
"It's a Farrington thing, I'm afraid. But I'm sorting something out, okay? It's just that we work so well together. It's crazy how freaking efficient things are here at Acercraft. Apex Energy is like riding a hundred year old mammoth, while Acercraft is a sleek, new Ferrari. It's a bit depressing to let go of."
"Acercraft is your breath of fresh air."
"Exactly."
He wants to be here, but he's duty bound to Apex Energy.
"Well, pal, if we don't do something, and soon, you'll be dragging us into your prehistoric age. Even your assistant looks like he's fading away, juggling two workloads."
"Do something like what, Cal?" he asks, but he already knows what I'll say.
"Let's hire someone, train them, and delegate directly to them. Actually, we might need two people. Or five, given that you'll be a father in the next few months."
"What are we looking for? A replacement?"
It's at the tip of my tongue to say yes, but it'll just spook him more.
"Not a replacement per se, like we could ever find anyone to replace you man. Let's get a few assistants, not entry level, mind you. They should have enough experience to function at the level of an associate, possibly even higher," I respond.
At Acercraft, employees enter either as interns or staff trainee level, then after some time get promoted into associates and then on to junior partners.
Senior partners handle launching and negotiations, and the managing partners oversee everything else.
"Fine, I'll tell Saj to put the word out to our recruiting agents."
"Great. Let's start interviewing in a few weeks, shall we? In the meantime, your report is still due. We can't delay more than two weeks on this, Jordan."
"Yes, boss," he shoots back.
I scoff and click off the screen, picking up my pace again on the treadmill.
****
MADISON'S POV
I step into the swanky interior of the Empire nightclub on Fifth Avenue and immediately appreciate the beauty and ambiance of the place.
I took a cab tonight because I didn't want to deal with the hassle of parking, and the valet would not be as eager to park my motorbike as they would with their other customers with tidy Bentleys and Lamborghinis.
I take a deep breath, stemming the small ripple of discomfort that settles in my gut. It's not that I don't like nice things or money.
Actually, I love them, which is where the problem lies.
I grew up under the heavy, oppressive thumb of the Harmonia Sect, an exclusive, little-known, New Religious movement my father converted into a few years after I was born.
The Sect loves to repeatedly warn its followers that "the allure of wealth nurtures the seeds of sin."
By the time I turned ten, my father had become one of the highly respected "masters" of the Sect, so I was well-versed in the tenets of our strange faith.
New converts were made to give up their expensive possessions. Even as a teenager, seeing people sell off their cars and houses in favor of seedy apartments and bicycles made me sick, but I dared not question the tenets and risk reproach to my parents.
So, I avoided luxury like a devout, little Harmonial.
My first real interaction with wealth was in high school. Jake Tyler, the star of the rugby team and the most popular guy in school. His father owned a chain of pharmacies hundreds of them across Ireland.
My crush on Jake Tyler was a rebellion in itself, and for me, the fact that it was expressly forbidden to fantasize about someone you were not married to made Jake all the more irresistible.
It turned out that the Sect was right on the allure of wealth because my crush on the rich kid became the worst disaster of my life, and it set into motion the series of events that continue to shape my reality today.
So, although I am no longer a practicing Harmonial, I make it a point to avoid wealthy people. Which so far, isn't going great.
I met Ella a little over a year ago when I did security work for her art gallery's website. I thought she was sweet and super talented, and we instantly connected. Little did I know that along with Ella came the billionaire Jordan Farrington, CEO of Apex Energy and a partner at Acercraft Group. I couldn't very well stop speaking to the girl at that point.
I was just getting used to Ella when I met Brooke in Cancun three months ago, only for her to go on to marry Xavier, a real estate multibillionaire who owns this very hotel and nightclub.
Money always seems to find ye, Siobhán,and what makes it worse is that it always comes with a man attached to it.
I shake off memories of my father's disapproving tone. I hate that he always seems to be right.
Well, he's only half right this time. I've nothing to do with those men apart from being friends with their wives.
Besides, I have my third friend Stella, who is a regular girl like me.
We planned tonight's hang-out to get the scoop on Brooke's just concluded four-week luxury honeymoon cruise, and to share my news with the girls.
Only, Ella isn't coming tonight, as she's not quite feeling up to a night out yet, too exhausted from the early pregnancy symptoms and her busy gallery.
As soon as I step in, a man dressed in a black t-shirt hands me the shiny access card to the VIP area, where I head over to wait for my friends in our usual spot in a secluded area of the club.
There are other small groups of people sitting in the section, and the music here is muted and slower, with a few couples swaying on the dance floor.
Knowing that I'll be waiting some time for the girls because I've arrived earlier than planned, I order the first round of drinks, getting the usual margarita for Stella and me and sparkling water for Brooke.
Brooke lives closest to this place, on the Upper West Side, but she's also now around five months pregnant, so everything she does seems to be in slow motion these days.
Stella's Brooklyn apartment is about half an hour away, but the girl, being a busy celebrity stylist, is probably already somewhere in the city right now.
I think back on my conversation with Jordan yesterday.
He'd called me yesterday, inviting me for an interview with Acercraft. They're looking for mid-level candidates with vast experience in software and web development and are offering great perks and the potential for career progression.
It's a great fit, but I'd said no straight away. The obvious reason is that with Acercraft comes Calhoun Kennedy, the guy who looks at me like I might be a pesky fly he'd like to swat.
The other reason is that I've never worked with a client as prominent as Acercraft. But this time, Acercraft wouldn't just be a client; they'd be my employer, getting exclusive rights to my creative mind for the first few years of our contract.
My clients usually find me through word of mouth and from my WebLinker portfolio, which showcases the hundreds of successful projects I've done. I've got a good following there.
If I go with Acercraft, I'll lose my client base.
However, I would gain unprecedented experience and networking opportunities far beyond my current client base.
Still, I'd said no.