She presses her lips into a thin line before answering, “I was hoping to. The merger has made things uncertain.”
“How do you mean?”
She takes a breath, and I watch her decide how much to reveal. “There are rumors about layoffs. Restructuring. I’m sure you’ve heard them.”
“I have.”
“I’m good at what I do, Mr. Karpov. I know I haven’t been here long, but I’ve proven my value. My numbers speak for themselves. I’m not asking for special treatment just because we… I mean, all I want is a fair evaluation based on merit.”
“They do speak for themselves,” I agree as I close the folder and set it aside. “Which is why you’re not on any list.”
Relief crosses her face before she can hide it. Her shoulders drop half an inch, and some of the stiffness leaves her posture. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. You earned your position through your work. That’s all that matters here.” I stand and move around the desk, where I lean against the front of it so I’m closer to her. Close enough to catch that same perfume from before. “I’m not interested in politics or tenure. I’m interested in results. Deliver those, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
She looks up at me, and I’m struck again by how pretty she is. The freckles scattered across her cheekbones. The slight furrow between her brows that seems permanently etched there. The full lips I remember tasting like gin.
“Is there anything else?” she asks after clearing her throat.
Several things, actually. Starting with why she left without waking me. But I keep those questions locked away where they belong.
“Tell me about the company culture,” I say instead. “What’s the mood like on the floor? Give me the unfiltered version.”
“Well, productivity is down because people spend half their time speculating instead of working.” She pauses, seeming to weigh whether to continue. “Honestly, morale has been low since the merger was announced. People are scared, and scared people make mistakes.”
“What would help?”
The question seems to surprise her. She tilts her head, considering. “Communication, probably. Transparency about what’s happening and what to expect. Right now, it’s all rumors. That makes everything worse.”
“Noted. And what about you? Are you scared?”
“I was,” she concedes with a nod. “Before this conversation.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m cautiously optimistic.”
I let myself smile. Just a little. “Cautious is smart. Optimism is good. Put them together, and you might just survive this transition.”
She stands before smoothing her blazer with both hands. “Is that everything, Mr. Karpov?”
“For now.” I return to my chair, putting the desk between us again. “I’ll be working from this office for the foreseeable future. If you have concerns or observations about the integration process, my door is open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She turns to leave. I watch her walk to the door, noting the way she carries herself. Confident but guarded. Like she’s ready for the ground to shift beneath her feet at any moment.
“Kirsten.”
She stops with her hand on the doorknob and glances back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Welcome to Karpov Industries.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. The first genuine one I’ve seen from her today. “Thank you, Mr. Karpov.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m left staring at a closed door like an idiot.
I scrub a hand over my face and let out a long breath. That went well, actually. No awkwardness. No acknowledgment of what happened between us. Just two professionals having a professional conversation.
