Charlene rushed in grinning. “Told you it was a done deal. Doug wants you upstairs in five minutes.”
Victory was mine. I checked my makeup and hair for the official company photo of Doug shaking my hand.
“You look gorgeous,” Charlene said.
I did look gorgeous, gorgeous and vice-presidential. Whistling “Hail to the Chief,” I grabbed my planner and ran out.
I stepped off the elevator onto the executive floor. A little more than ten years out of college, one year into the new millennium, and all the late nights, lost weekends, and canceled vacations had led me to this. I paused at the conference room door. Ten feet tall, solid oak, entry by invitation only; walking through it meant more than entering a room. It meant entering a new life and doing my part to take Dr. King’s dream one step further. After a quick prayer I opened the door.
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