Georgia's Pov
Stepping out of the car, I took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air fill my lungs. My driver, a man named Henry, whom Michael had recommended be my driver, opened the door with a calm and reassuring smile on his face.
“You’ve got this, Mrs. Romero. Best of luck today,” he said, and I wasn't surprised that he was wishing me luck since I hadn't stopped muttering words of prayer since I stepped into the car.
My nervousness had been as clear as day. “Thank you, Henry,” I replied, offering him a small smile in return.
Today was the day I would meet the board of directors of my grandfather’s company for the first time, and I could feel my nerves spiraling at the thought of how things were going to go.
My future, the future that my grandfather had prepared for me so
