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DANIEL

Three days after I’d decided to find B.J. Davis, I stepped out of my rented SUV and studied the stunning view of Willow Lake. Sunlight glistened off the clear blue water. The mountains on the opposite side of the bay rose to a formidable height, disappearing under a blanket of cloud.

Nestled against the shore of the lake was Sunrise Bay. The spire of a church marked one end of the small Colorado town. Other buildings lined both sides of the main shopping street. If I was searching for somewhere I could get lost in, this wasn’t it.

The drive from Boulder Airport had been uneventful—if you discounted the moose grazing beside the road or the squirrels watching me from the grassy bank of the picnic area.

I took a deep breath. For most of my life, I’d lived in New York City. I was used to skyscrapers, traffic jams, and constant noise. Apart from the silence surrounding me, the grandeur of the scenery was incredible.

Pulling out my cell phone, I took a photo and emailed it to my brother. At least it proved I was here and hadn’t canceled my flight.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. I needed to find B.J. Davis as much as I needed to breathe. Without his help, the board of directors would be even less likely to want to rebrand my company. And without repositioning the company’s online presence, our profit wouldn’t continue to grow and my contract as chief executive could be over.

If I found myself out of a job, I might be moving to Sunrise Bay, too.

I returned to my SUV with a heavy heart. B.J. Davis was my last chance to prove I could lead Wilson Enterprises into the next decade. And, despite everything I’d done, I still didn’t know if he’d speak to me.