Because I need to talk to you about this proposal.
A long pause. Then:Five minutes.
I spend those five minutes pacing my office like a caged animal. When she finally walks back in, I’m standing at the window again, trying to look calm.
“You read it,” she says. Not a question.
“Yes,” I reply.
“And?”
I turn to face her. “It might just work.”
“Itwillwork.” No hesitation.
“Where did you learn foundation structuring like this?” I ask.
“Master’s degree in communications and nonprofit management, remember?” She crosses her arms. “You know, the degree I got before spending two years underemployed and taking a secretary job because rent was due.”
Right. The qualifications I’ve been ignoring because of the job title my company gave her.
“I’m going to present this to the board,” I tell her. “An emergency session Monday.” That gives us the weekendto plan.
She nods. “And how are you going to explain where it came from?”
The question hangs between us. We both know what she’s really asking. Am I going to take credit and keep her invisible?
“I’m going to find a way to give you credit eventually,” I say. “I just need to handle Hale first. Let me get through the board meeting. Then I can figure out how to acknowledge you properly.”
Her jaw tightens. I can see the frustration in her eyes.
“I know it’s not enough,” I add. “I know I’ve been handling this wrong. All of it. The way I’ve treated you in meetings. The credit I haven’t given you. The way I’ve let the gossip fester because confronting it would mean confronting us.”
“What isus, exactly?” Her voice is careful now.
“I don’t know.” The honesty feels like peeling back scar tissue. “But I know I don’t want it to end. And I know I’ve been fucking it up. We’re more than just sex. A lot more.”
She uncrosses her arms and takes a step toward me.
“Youhavebeen fucking it up,” she agrees. “Spectacularly.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“The gossip is bad, Nico,” she says. “I’m not sure how long I can keep working here. It’s like Kendrick all over again.”
I frown. “Kendrick?”
She freezes. Something flickers across her face. Pain. Old shame. The look of someone who just said more than they meant to.
“Forget it.” She shakes her head. “Ancient history.”
But it’s not. I can see that clearly. Whoever Kendrick is, he’s part of why the gossip hurts her so deeply. Part of why she flinches when people whisper behind her back.
I file it away. Later. I’ll get the full story later.
For now, I look her in the eyes. “I’m going to fix this. The board. The gossip. All of it. I just need you to trust me a little longer.”
“Trust you?” She laughs, but it’s not entirely bitter. “You stalked me across Manhattan.”
