I adjust my cuffs like and then ask. “Ready?”
“No,” he deadpans. “But I did sign that death waiver when I took this job, so…”
“A boutique firm.” Thatcher’s voice slices through the air before I even step inside. He’s standing behind his desk, arms folded, expression carved from stone. “A goddamn boutique firm outplayed us?”
Okay. Sonotin the mood for nuance.
I stay quiet. Let him get it all out. Jumping in now would be like trying to reason with a grizzly mid-mauling.
His eyes volley between me and Rishi like we’re joint disappointments, but only one of us deserves the title.
“Do you two haveanyidea how bad this looks?”
Jackson—who’s leaning so far back in his chair he might as well be on a beach—answers for us. “Pretty bad?”
My head whips toward him. I narrow my eyes, hoping they could shoot daggers if I squint hard enough.
Thatcher’s already moving on. “Cross is hosting a pitch event at his private island in a month. Invite-only. Five firms. Three invites have already gone out. If we don’t get one…” He pauses, just long enough to twist the knife. “Don’t worry about making partner, Nolan. Worry about finding a new job.”
I don’t blink. Don’t flinch.
Jackson lets out a low whistle like we’re discussing fantasy football standings, not my damn livelihood. “High stakes.”
The urge to throttle him rises like bile.
“I have a plan,” I say, keeping my voice calm.
Thatcher leans in. “Then make it work. Fast.”
“I will. But I need to talk to you about?—”
He slices a hand through the air. “Don’t want to hear it. Just fix it.”
“I—”
“No excuses. No explanations. Just. Results.” Every word lands like a hammer.
I clamp my jaw shut. Press my tongue to the roof of my mouth before I say something I’ll regret. Because Iwillcircle back to this conversation. But not with Jackson in the room feeding him lazy smirks and frat-boy shrugs.
Thatcher waves us off like we’re crumbs on his desk.
The second we’re out the door, Jackson claps me on the back like we just wrapped up a casual lunch. “Well,thatwas fun.”
I brush him off. “Shut up.”
He grins. “If he’d had a fireplace behind him? Full villain monologue.”
“Yeah, and somehow you walked out without a scratch.”
“Family perks,” Rishi says beside me.
Jackson winks. “Also, unlike you, I don’t swing for the fences when the game’s already lost.”
My glare could melt steel. “You’re the one whosabotagedthe game.”
“Relax. It was just a little price adjustment.”
“A thirty percent drop is not a ‘little’ anything.”
