She leans in. Her eyes track back and forth across the short paragraph. When she finishes, she doesn't sigh or complain. She just sits back and exhales sharply through her nose.
"Of course he does."
"It's annoying," I say. "But not impossible. I can reshoot the commercial angles this week."
Sam’s expression tightens. She doesn't take the out I just offered her. “We should review the shots together. Whether the project makes money depends on how the neighborhood works. It’s not just storefronts—it’s why people would choose to walk that street.”
"Right." I nod, mentally adjusting my solo-mission plan. "Let's meet tomorrow morning."
"Ten o'clock?"
"Works for me."
She closes her laptop, wraps both hands around her coffee mug even though the ceramic is cold. "Castellano's been focused on the bottom since the beginning. I knew he'd circle back to this eventually."
"You want to call it for today?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "I need to finish the programming section tonight. If we're adding new visuals, the story has to support them."
I close my own laptop. "You're going to work all night."
"Probably." She stands, gathers her things. "But that's what deadlines are for."
She walks me to the elevator.
"Thanks for not fighting me on the review session," she says.
"Why would I fight you?"
She smiles, just barely. "Because you like working alone."
The doors close before I can answer.
***
Friday morning, I'm still in bed when my phone vibrates on the nightstand. I reach for it without opening my eyes. Email notification. I squint at the screen.
Subject: "Harbor Site Access—Production Schedule Update."
I sit up and open it.
Utility work on the north corridor. Site access restricted starting Monday. Weekend crew available Saturday 7 AM to 11 AM. Confirm if you need access.
I forward it to Sam: "Looks like we have to shoot Saturday morning if we want Castellano's images. I can handle it—you've got Board prep to finish."
I hit send and toss the phone on the mattress, get out of bed and make coffee.
***
By the time I reach the site office at ten, Sam's already there. Computer open, site plan spread across the table, her jacket still on like she just walked in.
She looks up when I push through the door. "I got your email."
"Morning to you too." I set my bag down, pull out the chair across from her.
"You're planning to shoot Saturday solo?"
"It's just the main street. Foot traffic, storefronts, ways in and out. I know what Castellano wants."
