Not even the blast of cold through her coat or the swirling snowflakes that stuck to her hair and melted against her cheeks could temper the frustration brewing inside her. The heels of her leather boots clicked a quick staccato down the salted concrete steps until she crunched into the pristine layer of new snow masking the half-frozen slush and grimy cinders in the parking lot. Her face ached with the smile she’d glued on her face, and for what? The executive she’d just met with was probably trading blonde jokes with his assistant right now. Imagine, thinking heiress Bailey Austin really wanted to get down in the trenches and work like any other young woman eager to launch a meaningful career. Bailey pulled her sunglasses from her purse to protect her eyes from the brightness reflecting off the white landscape of cars and concrete. She trudged toward the row of denuded dogwood trees, their branches brushed with snow and decorated with clear Christmas lights.
