“Of course they do. Of course.” Bronson held up his hands. “I’m not questioning your ability at all. I’m just thinking about what’s best for the Embers family. This is a critical growth phase for Black Ember. They need an agency partner who can be fully present and available. Not someone who’s dealing with postpartum recovery.” He paused. “It’s just reality. And I’d hate to see such a promising partnership get derailed because the timing wasn’t right.”
“Yes, I’ll be taking maternity leave. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But I’ll also be building a dedicated team specifically for this account before then. Black Ember would be my flagship partnership. The foundation of my agency’s growth.” She turned to Douglas. “Which means I have more invested in your success, not less. This isn’t just another account I’m servicing. It’s personal.”
“That’s admirable,” Bronson said smoothly. “But intention doesn’t solve the practical problem of availability—”
“Let me ask you something, Bronson, yes,” I said, cutting him off. “When you broke your leg last year while skiing, did that make you less committed to your clients? Less capable of doing your job?”
“That’s hardly the same—”
“Is it not? You are suggesting temporary physical condition—pregnancy, postpartum recovery—somehow negates professional competence. By your logic, anyone who gets sick, injured, or needs medical leave, they are unemployable. Or is it only pregnant women you consider liabilities?”
Mariela was frowning. Sarah looked uncomfortable. Douglas’s expression remained unreadable, but he was listening.
Maxwell set down his coffee cup. “I think,” he said slowly, “that we should focus on the work itself. Not on anyone’s personal circumstances.”
“Amen to that.” Mariela fixed Bronson with a look that could curdle milk. “I ran this distillery while raisin’ five babies and keepin’ Douglas in line. You questionin’ my commitment too, young man?”
Bronson paled. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression. That wasn’t my intent at all.”
“Then maybe,” Douglas drawled, “you oughta think twice ‘fore you start implyin’ things you got no call to say.”
Vienna jumped in, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “Bronson just meant that EchoHive has the depth of resources to ensure continuity—”
“Every agency, it has teams,” I said flatly. “That is not unique selling point. What Bronson does not have is courage to compete on actual merit instead of trying to disqualify his competition with sexism.”
“I appreciate my husband’s... passionate defense,” Dede said. “I’ll be happy to address any concerns about my availability and team structure during my presentation. Which is where those questions belong.”
Sarah spoke up for the first time. “Denna’s right. We should let the presentations speak for themselves.”
“Absolutely.” Bronson’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I look forward to showing you what EchoHive can do.”
Under the table, I found Dede’s hand curled into a fist against her thigh. I covered it with mine and squeezed.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers slowly uncurled and interlaced with mine.
Back at the cottage, Dede spread her materials across the small table, reviewing everything one final time. I made tea without asking and set it beside her.
“Thank you for the tea.” She glanced up. “And for what you said at breakfast.”
“You are welcome,” I said, covering her hand with mine.
Dede looked up at me, and I thought she might kiss me. Saw the thought cross her face, saw her eyes drop to my mouth.
She pulled away and turned back to her materials. “I should review my presentation.”
I pulled out my phone, giving her space to work. The silence that followed was comfortable.
Through my periphery, I watched her work. The way she worried her bottom lip when she was concentrating. The way she absently rubbed her belly when the babies moved.
“How did you know?” she asked suddenly.
“Know what?”
“About Bronson’s broken leg.”
“I ordered background check on him last night. Wanted to know what we were dealing with.”
Her mouth formed an O. “You had him... investigated?”
