“That’s not an answer,” Jami said quietly.
Tony gave a half-smile.“No, it’s not.”
Ten minutes later, Carlene’s car pulled up outside.She walked in with her laptop bag slung over one shoulder, hair pulled back, face pale but composed.The professional version of her was back, armor polished, voice steady.Only her eyes betrayed her, shadowed from lack of sleep.
Jami met her halfway across the barn floor.“Morning.”
“Morning,” she said, her tone brisk.“Let’s get started.”
She brushed past him to set up at the bar, her fingers moving with purpose.He watched her for a second longer than he should have, then forced himself to focus.
The meeting with the label began a few minutes later via video call.Vivian and Mason appeared on separate screens, looking tired but alert.Bret handled the connections while Tony filled them in on Carlene’s latest findings.
She presented the evidence calmly, walking them through the data trail that tied Reed & Carr to the altered files.Her voice didn’t shake once.Watching her work was like watching precision in motion.She had that same quiet confidence she used when she believed in something completely.
Vivian asked hard questions.Mason offered measured warnings.Through it all, Carlene stood firm.She’d built her proof, and it was solid.
When Vivian finally said, “All right, Carlene, we’ll move forward with your plan,” Jami exhaled for what felt like the first time all morning.
The call ended, and the room slowly emptied as Bret and Tony stepped outside to make phone calls.Jami stayed behind, watching Carlene type something on her laptop.
“You didn’t tell them about the cease and desist,” he said.
“I’ll forward it once the logs finish pulling,” she said without looking up.
“You got one too, didn’t you?”
She paused, then nodded.“It’s intimidation.Nothing more.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”She closed the laptop and looked up at him.“They’re scared, Jami.Scared people make mistakes.I’m counting on that.”
He smiled faintly.“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Her lips twitched.“That’s good advice.”
Silence settled again, thicker this time.He could see the exhaustion in the curve of her shoulders, the tension around her mouth.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” he said softly.
She laughed without humor.“You try drafting a legal rebuttal and a PR plan in the same night.”
“I’d rather write a song.”
“Exactly.”
He stepped closer.“You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
She straightened, chin lifting slightly.“It’s my job.”
“Your job is keeping the story clean, not taking all the hits.”
“Someone has to.”
“Not alone,” he said, firmer.
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air shifted between them.He wanted to reach for her, to tell her he’d been thinking about her since she walked out last night, but he stayed where he was.She was wound too tight, and if he touched her now, she might break, or worse, he might.
