What does that even mean?
Maybe that’s just my dick doing the talking again.
I don’t know anymore.
Through the conference room windows, I can see her back at her desk. Typing something. Probably emailing out the meeting notes. Notes that I’ll review later and find inadequate, even though we both know they’ll be flawless.
She deserves better than this.
And I have no fucking idea how to give her that without destroying both of us.
12
Bree
I’ve become an expert at looking busy while doing absolutely nothing.
Sitting in my usual corner seat with my laptop open and my professional mask firmly in place, I’m supposed to be taking notes. What I’m actually doing is watching Nico prepare to charm three high-net-worth philanthropists whose perfectly lit home offices are currently displayed on the massive video screen.
Nico is at the head of the table, of course. Sleeves rolled to his elbows in that way he does when he’s preparing for battle. The scar on his face catches the morning light every time he turns his head, and I hate that I still find it attractive. I hate that I notice the way his forearms flex when he gestures, or how his voice drops to that gravelly register when he’s being deliberately persuasive.
I’ve been at this job how long now? Almost four weeks? And I’m still cataloging the physical details of my boss like some kind of obsessed teenager.
Excellent professional development, Bree.
Truly stellar.
Elspeth sits to Nico’s right. Paloma is across from her, looking like she hasn’t slept in three days. Dr. Helena Vasquez is on the screen too, joining from her office at the hospital, her presence a reminder that at least one board member is firmly in Nico’s corner.
The donors are asking pointed questions. Richard Pemberton, old money with an older grudge. Catherine Wang, tech fortune, reputation for pulling funding at the first sign of PR trouble. And Tiberius Brody, the quietest of the three, who built his philanthropy empire on “accountability metrics” and loves reminding everyone about it.
I take notes. That’s my job.
Be invisible.
“The leaked documents raised significant concerns,” Catherine says. “The optics are... troubling.”
Nico leans forward slightly. “I understand the concern, and I appreciate you giving us the opportunity to address it directly.”
In proceeds to launch into the framework I put together when I edited Paloma’s document.
Not that anyone knows that.
Tiberius Brody speaks up. “We’d like to hear more about the foundation restructuring proposal that was mentioned. The separation of nonprofit and for-profit arms.”
My fingers pause on the keyboard. Just for a second.
That’s another part of the strategy document I left on Nico’s desk. The one he brought to the board without ever mentioning where it came from.
Nico nods, confident and in control. “The restructuring creates clear firewalls between commercialoperations and charitable activities. The foundation will have independent governance, and a dedicated funding stream that’s completely separate from our premium product revenue.”
My words.
My framework.
“Fifteen minutes,” Catherine says, glancing at something off-screen. “We have a board meeting at eleven.”
“Of course.” Nico turns his head. And looks directly at me. “Bree, get coffee. Everyone’s orders.”
