“Who’s Sloane? I don’t think I’ve heard that name before,” I asked.
“Oh—right, you wouldn’t know. Harley resigned. Not long after I got back from Florida.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. There was a time when I would’ve reacted differently—would’ve latched onto that name like it meant something. Now it just… didn’t.
“He resigned?” I asked.
Elena nodded. “Yeah. Went back to his family’s company.”
“Oh,” I said finally. “Okay.”
A beat.
She tilted her head slightly. “So… how’s Abu Dhabi?”
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Hectic.”
“Bad hectic?”
“Board-level hectic,” I said, grinning slightly.
Elena’s brows rose. “Sounds lovely.”
A faint huff of laughter left me. “The schedule’s already critical. The handover might get pushed back, and there’s a risk of liquidated damages. I have to step in and deal with the owner directly.”
She stayed quiet for a second, absorbing that. “So basically,” she said slowly, “you’re there to stop it from turning into a mess.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Before it becomes expensive.”
Elena’s lips twitched faintly. “So how are things over there now?”
“It’s manageable,” I replied. “We can still catch up in a few areas that are behind. And even if there’s a delay of a day or two, the penalties can still be negotiated down, or even waived.”
I watched her shift the laptop slightly, like she was settling in, like she wasn’t in a hurry to end this. Then she said, almost matter-of-factly, “Honestly, whenever you step in personally, things always get handled.”
A quiet satisfaction curled in my chest. I didn’t smile fully—just a small, instinctive smirk I couldn’t quite stop, the kind that lasted only a second before I swallowed it down like it meant nothing.
We fell quiet again. On the screen, Elena didn’t shift away. Her gaze lingered on me a second too long.
Then she cleared her throat lightly, like she was pulling herself back into the moment. “How long are your days?” she asked.
I glanced at the clock on my bedside table without meaning to. “Long.”
“How long?” she repeated.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing one ankle over my knee. “About the same. Meetings at nine. Site until late afternoon. Then paperwork, revisions, calls. I’m usually back at the hotel around seven.”
Elena blinked. “Seven.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes later.”
“And you still wake up at five every day just to call Haille?”
I didn’t answer immediately. Because the truth was—yes, I did. “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said simply.
Elena’s eyes softened, but she didn’t comment on it. She only asked, “Do you ever go out there? Sightseeing? Anything?”
I let out a low breath, half amused. “You think I flew here for a vacation?”
