Page 21 of Worth the Risk
“Community engagement or personal fascination?” Harrison’s smile is razor-sharp. “Because what I see is a CEO who’s lost sight of his responsibilities.”
“The Highland collaboration has generated valuable development insights,” Elliot interjects smoothly. “Maya Navarro’s research could significantly increase the Anderson Project’s profitability while solving our community opposition problem.”
I watch Elliot work, deflecting Harrison’s personal accusations by reframing everything as business strategy. He’s positioning himself as the voice of reasoned judgment while making Harrison look reactionary.
“Tax incentives and expedited permitting could save us months and increase profits,” I add, following Elliot’s lead. “It’s a win-win scenario.”
“It’s a scenario that sets dangerous precedent,” Harrison snaps. “Every community organization in the city will expect the same treatment.”
“Only if we make it standard practice,” Elliot says reasonably. “This could be positioned as innovative community partnership. Great PR, strong returns, and we avoid ongoing protest costs.”
Board member Patricia Winters nods slowly. “Community opposition has been expensive on past projects.”
Harrison’s expression grows thunderous as he realizes the room isn’t automatically siding with him.
“The numbers are irrelevant if our CEO has compromised his judgment,” Harrison says coldly. “I’m seeing emotional decision-making where we need business strategy.”
“What you’re seeing is adaptive leadership,” Elliot counters smoothly. “Declan identified opportunities where others saw only obstacles.”
“Adaptive leadership doesn’t explain why our CEO is planning to spend his entire Saturday at Highland’s cultural festival instead of the Westside development site visit.”
My stomach drops. The site visit—scheduled walk-through with city planners that’s been on the calendar for weeks. Harrison knows exactly how this looks.
“The site visit can be rescheduled,” I say, knowing how weak it sounds.
“Can it? The city planning committee specifically requested Saturday. But apparently, Filipino folk festivals take precedence over municipal relationships.”
“Actually,” Elliot jumps in, “attending Highland’s festival shows Pierce Enterprises as community-engaged. Could be excellent optics with the city planners—demonstrates we work with communities rather than bulldoze them.”
I watch Elliot masterfully turn Harrison’s criticism into strategic advantage, but Harrison’s expression tells me this confrontation isn’t over.
“Fine,” Harrison says finally. “The collaboration continues. But I want weekly updates and a firm deadline. Six weeks to prove this approach works, or we return to conventional demolition as soon as possible.”
“Six weeks,” I confirm.
“And Declan?” Harrison’s voice carries unmistakable warning. “Don’t mistake community engagement for personal relationships. This board won’t tolerate leadership decisions driven by emotional attachments.”
After the others leave, Elliot lingers behind.
“That was close,” he says quietly.
“Harrison knows about Maya.” I slump in my chair. “Someone’s reporting back to him.”
“Harrison has resources we’re not aware of,” Elliot warns. “Be careful. He’s looking for any excuse to question your leadership.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because attending Highland’s festival tomorrow, after that confrontation, looks like deliberate defiance.”
I think about Maya’s invitation, about the promise I made to attend, about the way she looked when she asked if I was planning to come.
“Maybe it is,” I admit.
Elliot shakes his head. “Then make it count. If you’re going to risk your position for Maya Navarro, make sure it’s worth the gamble.”
After he leaves, I sit alone staring at the photo of Maya and me learning Tinikling. We look happy together, natural, like people who genuinely enjoy each other’s company.
Harrison is right about one thing—my judgment regarding Maya has become personal. The question is whether I’m willing to bet my career on it.
