“The issue is going to be sabotage,” Ethan says.
“Already handled,” I say, scrolling through my notifications. There's a string of encrypted messages from Hex, Maddox's preferred name for work that skirts the legal line. It's a weird comfort knowing we have our own cybersecurity team on retainer, tracing the threads of our own cold war. Six monthsago, only Hex's insane skills saved ELK from being absorbed into Hammond's merger.
“Maddox says to prepare for corporate espionage. We're stepping on toes.”
Logan sketches a flow chart on the glass wall. “If we frame it as community investment, we get the teachers and the parents on our side. The council can't say no to that.”
“Ethan, get the specs reviewed by tonight. Logan, prep the materials. I'll?—”
My words trail off as Ethan's phone buzzes. He stares at the screen, the colorful tattoos on his neck rippling as his muscles contract. He locks the screen and grabs his things.
“I have to run,” he says. “Carla needs me.”
Logan's brow arches. “Again?”
Ethan nods, avoiding our eyes. “She's... you know how it is.” He tries to smile. It looks more like a grimace.
He's halfway to the door before I shout after him, “Tell her we're rooting for her.”
The door closes and leaves a silence that only happens between people who have known each other long enough to read every gap.
“Do you think he'll be okay?” Logan asks.
I want to say yes. Instead, I look at the schematic. All those clean, beautiful lines mean nothing without the mess of actual lives to back them up.
“He has us,” I say. “That's more than most people get.”
Logan flicks a marker at me. “You're running point on the council meeting, Rhodes. Try not to set the room on fire.”
I catch the marker. “No promises.”
The day grinds on.Sunlight shifts across the wall. Logan cues up a playlist, something synthy and wordless, and we work in parallel until the sky turns amber.
By evening, I'm still at my desk. My jaw is locked. I keep scrolling through notifications that multiply faster than I can clear them. I shove back from the desk. My father's voice is still rattling around in my skull.Your company has no value to me.
The walls are closing in.
I grab my jacket and head for the elevator. Logan's voice follows me. “You okay?”
“Need air.”
He doesn't push. That's one of the things I appreciate about him.
Downstairs, my driver is already pulling the car around. I wave him off.
“Sir?”
“I'm walking. Take the evening off, George. I'm sure Linda will enjoy having you home for dinner.”
He looks at me as if I'd announced I'm joining a monastery. The car pulls away, and I'm left standing on the sidewalk.
I pick a direction and move.
The financial district empties out after six, all those glass towers bleeding suits onto the sidewalks before swallowing them into parking garages and subway stations. I walk against the current with my collar up. Nobody looks twice. I'm just another guy in expensive clothes, and in this neighborhood, that's camouflage.
The anger fades as I walk, replaced by something flatter and emptier. I pass the tower where my mother's lawyer works, thebodega where Ethan buys energy drinks by the crate, a wine bar I took Brianna to once, back when I still believed her performance.
I keep walking.
