The Perils of Flying Solo

Amara strolled into Lyselle Media with her usual confidence, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the pristine marble lobby. As she passed a group of junior employees huddled around the coffee machine, their whispered chatter abruptly stopped, replaced by wide-eyed stares. She could almost hear the unspoken gossip: Isn't that the CEO-to-be? The one who allegedly made the head of marketing cry last week?

She smirked to herself. "Good. Let them wonder," she muttered under her breath as she headed for the elevators.

As the doors slid shut, she sighed. Today promised to be another circus. Without an assistant, she was juggling everything herself a fact that her father, Gerald, constantly reminded her of.

"You're not indispensable, Amara," he had said over dinner last week. "Hire someone competent before you burn out or worse, embarrass the company."