“I prefer ‘most effective,’” I reply, calm. “Hard work without impact is just exhaustion.”
Michael lets out a small laugh, but Josh’s smile tugs thin.
“Always with the smart answers,” he murmurs. “Some things never change.”
“And some things should’ve,” Donovan cuts in smoothly.
Josh’s gaze flickers to him.
“Oh?” he says lightly. “You’ve worked with Emma long enough to know that?”
Donovan’s gray eyes hold his. Unblinking.
“Long enough to know the difference between confidence and insecurity,” he answers. “And to know which one actually moves companies forward.”
Josh exhales through his nose, shifting in his seat, nearly squirming.
"Emma always was driven," he tells Michael, pivoting with a condescending smile. "Sometimes to the point of being unreasonable. I'm sure you've noticed, Donovan. She's not exactly low-maintenance."
Donovan's jaw tightens, but I jump in before he can respond.
"I prefer 'high-performing' to 'high-maintenance,'" I say coolly. "And I've never understood why ambition in women is considered a character flaw."
"It's not," Donovan says, his voice carrying an edge I've never heard before. "In fact, Emma's ambition and drive are exactly why she's one of our top strategists. She's brilliant, she works harder than anyone on my team, and she earned her position."
Josh's smile falters slightly.
"She also," Donovan continues, leaning back in his chair with casual authority, "has the kind of strategic mind that makes investors eager to sign with us. She's already closed two major deals in her first month. So if you're trying to undermine her credibility, Josh, you're wasting your time. Emma speaks for Titan with my full confidence."
Josh’s expression tightens a fraction. Because he didn’t expect that. Didn’t expect me to be standing here like this. Next to a man like Donovan Mitchell Titan.
“And you trust her that much?” he asks, trying for casual.
Donovan leans back, slow and unbothered.
“I don’t waste my time on people I don’t trust,” my beautiful boss answers. “And I don’t stake Titan’s future on people who haven’t earned it.” He lets that settle. “Emma earned it.”
There’s silence for half a second before Josh lifts his glass, fingers tightening around the stem.
“In that case,” my insufferable ex declares, forcing a smile, “I’ll look forward to seeing the numbers.”
“You will,” I reply.
And when I do finally glance at Donovan…
His eyes meet mine, simmering with more than just attraction. They’re heated with alignment, and I realize—
Josh didn’t just come here expecting to negotiate a deal.
He came here expecting to see the version of me he left behind, and instead, he’s watching me sit beside a man who doesn’t diminish me, doesn’t soften me, doesn’t need me to be smaller.
The table goes silent.
Michael looks impressed. Josh looks like he swallowed something sour. And I'm trying very hard not to cry or throw myself at Donovan or both.
The rest of dinner passes in a blur of business talk and contract negotiations. By the time we're saying goodbyes in the lobby, I'm exhausted and emotionally wrung out.
"Emma," Josh says as we're leaving. "Maybe we could get coffee while you're in town? Catch up properly?"
