Tara had always thought the Thompson company building looked intimidating as a child. Now it felt almost ordinary.
Glass. Steel. Precision.
Richard Thompson's company headquarters towered over the downtown district like a monument to control. As a little girl she used to imagine it as a castle where decisions were made that shaped entire lives.
As an adult, she realized that was exactly what it was.
"Miss Thompson?"
She glanced up from the stack of reports in front of her.
Her assistant, technically not her assistant, but the department coordinator stood at the door.
"Your father asked if you're ready for lunch."
Tara stretched her stiff shoulders and stood.
"Tell him I am coming."
Three weeks into her internship and she was already buried in spreadsheets, contract drafts and operational reviews.
Her father insisted she start from the bottom.
"You can't run a business if you don't understand the machinery." he had said on her first day.
