By the time the announcer called Gianna's name again, to give a speech and accept another award on behalf of the company—an award created just then, the hall had quietened somewhat.
"Gianna Aldo, please join us on stage."
Gianna rose slowly, smoothing her palm over the fabric of her suit—not to steady herself, but out of habit.
You've got this. She mused as she walked. It was already done. Her place was already cemented; she was a pacesetter.
For some reason, she remembered the marriage proposals she had received from the two most eligible bachelors in town, and held in the urge to laugh.
If she hadn't believed in herself, she would have agreed to those lame stunts. Would have chosen the shortcut to success.
She was damn glad that she hadn't!
She was damn proud of herself that she hadn't agreed to some half-ass marriage proposal to make a statement in the industry.
