He told her.
She nodded like she already knew.
“And who’s representing you?”
“Some outside firm. Two guys. Corporate liability or something. I’m not exactly sure. My uncle is pissed at me right now.”
“What time is your meeting tomorrow?”
“Nine.”
“Hang tight, Tony. I’ve git this.”
Tony muttered a string of curses half in Italian and English.
“Sage—don’t please. My family s already angry enough.”
She looks hurt for a split second before ending me back the phone.
“Call me after you see your uncle so I know he didn’t deep six you.”
Tony snorted. The call disconnected.
Sage opened her laptop starting clicking around.
Then she reached for her bag.
I blinked. “What are you doing?”
“Making calls.”
“To who?”
She looked at me like it was obvious. “Everyone.”
She stepped into the hallway and started dialing.
Not frantic.
Not emotional.
Clinical.
One call to someone at her firm.
One to someone at the carrier.
One to a name I didn’t recognize.
Short conversations. Legal language. Calm.
When she came back in, she was already putting on heels.
“I’m going tomorrow,” she said.
“To what?”
“The meeting.”
