We settle at a table by the window, the lake spread out before us like something out of a postcard. She keeps her posture tight; hands wrapped neatly around her cup, then lifts her eyes to meet mine.
“So, this is the part where we start to chat casually?” Her tone is light, but edged—controlled, like everything else about her.
I stir my coffee, meeting her gaze.
“We’re here for the view,” I say, offering a slight smile. “The chat is just… optional.”
That earns me the smallest twitch of her lips—almost a smile. Almost.
A pause stretches between us as she looks toward the lake.
“It feels so peaceful here,” she says softly, almost like she’s speaking to herself.
I don’t answer. I just listen—and let her unwind.
“The people walking along the lake… they seem so carefree,” she adds, her voice distant. “Though we never really know what’s underneath. What people are carrying inside.”
She stops then, like she’s caught herself saying too much. Her shoulders shift, spine straightening slightly, as if closing a door.
She turns back to me with a careful, composed expression.
“So, tell me your side,” she says, voice steady. “About Marshall Enterprises. Looks like you’ve done well these past five years.”
“I worked hard,” I say, my voice lower now. “Harder than I ever have.”
I pause, then glance at her.
“After you…” The words catch, and I stop myself.
She looks at me, but doesn’t interrupt.
“Work was the only thing that made sense. The only thing I could control. And after the financial mess I crawled out of... I promised myself I’d never be that exposed again.”
I take a breath—slow, contained.
“So, I took every contract and worked to exhaustion. Then I expanded. Invested smart. David stepped in—he took over most of the construction side, which gave me space to focus on long-term plays.”
I glance out the window, then back at her, more quietly now.
“I didn’t have a choice. I had to work.”
A flicker of something shifts in her expression—understanding. Not pity. Just… recognition.
She looks down at her cup, then back at me.
“I know how it is,” she says quietly. “To lose yourself in work. To bury the noise in long hours and deadlines. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that keeps you upright.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the air between us holds a different kind of silence—one filled with shared weariness.
I nod slightly, then lean back in my chair.
“The agency suits you,” I say, keeping my tone light and sincere. “You’ve shaped your team well. It shows.”
She shrugs lightly, lips tugging at the corner.
“I try. The team back home is solid. I’ve been lucky—Adriana’s one of the best.”
She pauses, then adds more quietly, “It’s a good thing you had David by your side.”
