Angie’s sentence comes out as a statement, not a question. Whatever it is, I don’t want to think about it.
Sunlight slides across the chalkboard menu outside of Le James. A barista with sleeve tattoos is tamping espresso with total focus. The place is abuzz, and it’s exactly the energy I need right now—nice and distracting.
“I sent it,” I say, a little breathless admitting it out loud. “My future is now a PDF printed out in Sasha’s office.”
Her eyes soften. “Then we breathe. Let a certain CEO admire the work.”
“If he’s smart,” I say. “I’ve been spending the last week working on his corrections and tweaks. If he doesn’t like this draft, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
The truth of the matter is that it’s been kind of nice to throw myself into work. I’ve been under heavy guard since the attempt on my life, so being able to totally focus on the next proposal draft has been a welcome distraction.
The barista comes over, setting down our two lattes. “This one’s the decaf,” she says as she places the mugs on the table, the foam decorated with little cat faces.
I pull my mug close, lifting it, and taking a sip.
“Still can’t get used to you doing decaf,” Angie says, shaking her head. “And I’ve got no idea how you managed all of this sober as hell.”
God, Isowant to tell her about the baby. But I made a decision about that—once the proposal is approved, I’ll tell her the news.
“It’s actually helping me stay focused and steady, believe it or not,” I say. “Fewer ups and downs.”
She sips her coffee, then leans in. “Okay, so is this it? Your part in the merger is done?”
“Assuming he approves of the work—and that’s abigassumption, knowing him—then… yeah, that’s it. He takes the proposal to Johan, who looks it over, then decides whether he wants to move forward or not.”
“And you think that’s going to happen?”
“That’s the rumor. Only a few people know about this, but word is that Johan is eager to merge and make some serious money.”
“And what happens if he says no?”
I glance over my shoulder, pointing to the AngelCorp tower behind us. “You see that office on the very, very top?”
“Sure do. That’s where the man himself dwells.”
“Well, if this doesn’t get through, then Sasha is going to toss my ass out of that window.”
She snorts, spitting out a little coffee. When she recovers, Angie wipes her mouth, shaking her head. “I doubt he’d do that—he likes you too much.”
“Only because I haven’t screwed this thing up for him yet.”
“Well, here’s hoping,” she says. “Johan Morozov isn’t his father. He’s measured. If this is a good deal, he’ll take it.”
“You say that like you know him,” I tease.
She shrugs. “I read. A lot. I mean, you’re not the only one working at AngelCorp, you know. Pays to be aware of these kinds of things.”
“I suppose you’re right about that.”
I open my email, looking for the email with the subjectDandelion—Offer v12 FINAL. The first few drafts had been all fancy in the binders, but after a million change requests by Sasha, I’ve been doing it all digitally. Hopefully, he’s reading it right now.
When I put down my phone, I glance up to see Angie looking away, turning her attention to something outside the window. Her lips are pursed, and she looks preoccupied. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that she’s keeping something from me.
I really want to know, whatever it is. But I stop myself from pushing—what would be worse than trying to get her to dish when I’ve got a major secret of my own?
“Anyway,” she says, “mind talking me through this report a little? If it goes through, I’m going to need to be fluent in it for my own damn job.”
“Sure.”
