…Izzy eyed the shining keys in her palm and the gleaming Mercedes parked a few feet away. Politically, she found status cars obnoxious. She held fairly lofty views on the subject and had declared in the past that she wouldn't own a Mercedes even if someone gave it to her.

That was before anyone actually gave her one.

Izzy looked at the plain manila envelope with her name on it and a big "confidential" stamped across the top.

She had wasted eight years answering phones, schlepping coffee, and taking orders from the likes of Arthur Franco and Valentine Hart. She had talent. She had brains, more than most of the people she worked for.

She deserved her chance. Izzy stared at the shiny new keys that burned in her hand.

There was something else that she had not had before: real ambition. Now it ached inside her like hunger.

She deserved this chance for success. She wanted it more than she had ever been willing to admit before.