Page 35 of Worth the Risk
“I appreciate that, Harrison. What’s on your mind?”
“Maya Navarro.” He sets down his glass with deliberate care. “More specifically, your growing personal involvement with her.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “My relationship with Miss Navarro is professional?—”
“Son.” Harrison’s voice carries paternal authority that makes you feel twelve years old again. “I’ve known you since you were in college. I watched your father train you for this position. I can read the signs.”
I take a drink, buying time while trying to figure out how much Harrison actually knows versus suspects. “What signs?”
“The way you talked about her during the board presentation. The fact that you’ve spent more time at Highland Community Center than in your own office this week. The reports I’m getting about your... collaborative approach.”
Reports. Someone is feeding information back to Harrison, or someone at Pierce Enterprises is tracking my movements more closely than I realized.
“Highland’s situation requires careful handling?—”
“Highland’s situation requires demolition and development, as originally planned.” Harrison leans forward slightly. “Declan,your father built Pierce Enterprises on the principle that business decisions must be made with complete objectivity. Personal feelings cannot influence strategic planning.”
“And if strategic planning evolves based on new information? If there are financial benefits to preservation we hadn’t considered?”
“Then we evaluate those benefits objectively, without emotional attachment to the messenger.” Harrison’s expression grows more serious. “Declan, I made a promise to your father on his deathbed. I promised Maxwell that I’d help steer Pierce Enterprises toward the vision he’d spent thirty years building.”
The admission catches me off guard. Harrison rarely mentions my father’s final days, the cancer that took him too quickly for proper goodbyes.
“What vision?”
“To be the premier development company on the West Coast. To prove that strategic thinking and disciplined execution could build something that lasts.” Harrison’s voice carries the weight of old obligations. “Your father believed that business success required making hard choices, that sentiment was a luxury corporations couldn’t afford.”
“And if there are better ways to generate profit? If community engagement actually creates more sustainable revenue streams?”
“Then we pursue those strategies based on financial analysis, not emotional attachment.” Harrison pauses. “Declan, Maya Navarro is an attractive, passionate woman fighting for something she believes in. That combination can be intoxicating to a man in your position.”
The clinical way he reduces Maya to a strategic problem makes my jaw clench. “Maya is Highland’s director. She’s presenting viable alternatives that could benefit Pierce Enterprises.”
“Maya is a community organizer who’s very good at making her cause seem personal to the men she’s trying to influence.” Harrison’s voice carries the patience of someone explaining obvious truths. “Your father faced similar situations—passionate advocates who believed that personal connection could override business reality. He learned to maintain appropriate boundaries.”
“What happened?”
“Maxwell maintained professional objectivity. The development proceeded as planned, generated substantial returns for our investors, and established Pierce Enterprises as a serious player in Los Angeles real estate.” Harrison’s voice carries satisfaction mixed with something that might be regret.
“And the community leader?”
“Found other battles to fight. They usually do.” Harrison checks his watch. “Declan, I’m not saying Maya Navarro isn’t remarkable. I’m saying that remarkable women can be career-ending distractions if you handle them incorrectly.”
Career-ending distractions. The phrase makes my stomach turn. “My career shouldn’t depend on avoiding connections with people who challenge my assumptions.”
“Your career depends on maintaining the judgment and objectivity that make you effective as Pierce Enterprises’ CEO.” Harrison’s voice grows more intense. “I promised your father I’d help you avoid the mistakes that could destroy what he built. We can’t let sentiment derail that progress.”
“And if community engagement actually advances that progress? If Highland’s preservation demonstrates that Pierce Enterprises can innovate beyond my father’s model?”
Harrison sets down his glass and looks at me with disappointment. “Then you present those innovations based on financial analysis, not emotional connection. You advocate for Highland because the numbers support it, not because you’re infatuated with its director.”
The word infatuated hits like cold water. Is that what this is? A CEO’s midlife crisis disguised as progressive business strategy?
But then I remember the way Maya’s eyes lit up when she talked about her research, the intelligence behind her preservation proposals, the strength it took to fight for Highland’s survival while planning for its potential relocation. This isn’t infatuation—it’s recognition. I’m drawn to Maya because she represents everything I wish I could be—someone who fights for principles instead of profit margins.
“Harrison, I appreciate your concern?—”
“My concern is honoring the promise I made to your father.” His voice grows more personal, vulnerable. “Maxwell trusted me to help you build on his legacy, not tear it down for romantic complications. I’ve spent fifteen years helping Pierce Enterprises become what it is today. I won’t watch that success get compromised.”
