But her eyes say the opposite. It’s always personal with her. How was I married to this woman for a decade? I should have seen through her much sooner and saved my daughter and me the pain.
Toby folds his arms. “Look, man, sometimes the best ideas lose, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“Or you won’t,” Calista adds sweetly. “But that won’t be our problem. Right, babe?” She grins at Toby.
“Not one bit,” he grins, leaning in to peck her lips.
Fury burns so hot in me; I feel my whole body tremble. I stare at them—two people who were once family, who claimed they cared about this company, who betrayed me so thoroughly it rattled the bones in my body.
“You’re unbelievable,” I breathe.
Calista smiles. “We’re efficient.”
Toby nods toward my desk. “By the way, good luck on whatever little project you’re working on. It looks… cute. I hope it’s not what you’re gonna propose for the Morgans, because if it is, you’re surely gonna lose. Again.”
My blood turns molten, but before I can say something I can’t take back, they slip out the door, footsteps echoing down the hall, laughter trailing behind them like poison.
When the last sound fades, the silence hits harder than the confrontation. I sit back down and exhale, staring at the blueprint. My chest aches, and no matter how hard I rub, the feeling won’t go away.
That Weathersby project was supposed to keep the company afloat through the next few months and buy me time. It was supposed to be mine, but Calista and Toby don’t want the business to thrive if I’m the one steering it. They want me tired, doubting, and cornered. They want me to give up so they can claim the rest of the company cleanly.
But that is not happening, not after everything I’ve fought through to get here. This is my father’s legacy, and I am going to fight till death for it.
I grab my pencil again and start fixing measurements I’ve already fixed three times. I erase a line that was perfectly drawn just so I can redraw it cleaner, pushing the frustration out through precision. Every stroke of my pencil is a vow. I’m going to win this damn bid.
And then my phone buzzes. I brace myself—another client cancelling? A supplier raising prices? Calista gloating? But then I see the name.
Ella.
Everything inside me shifts. I clear my throat before answering, trying to sound like a man who didn’t just lose the biggest project he had lined up. “Hey.”
“Hi Cole, are you okay? You sound tense,” she notes immediately.
Her voice flows warm through the speaker, soft but sharp, sweet but serious. It hits me right in the center of my chest.
“It’s been a long morning,” I admit.
“Did you get a chance to finish the elevation designs?” she inquires.
“I’m working on them right now.”
“Good, that’s the spirit.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “I was just calling to check in and make sure you haven’t run away yet.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “Not yet.”
She laughs, a soft, breathy sound that does something to me I don’t have words for. “How about the bid proposal? Have you worked on the numbers yet?”
“Yes, I finalized it last night. Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you let me help you in the first place. Which means everything is on track?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why do you sound so down?” she asks gently.
I hesitate for a bit too long.
“Cole,” she murmurs, catching it. “Talk to me.”
