***
I'm halfway down the block when my phone pings. Auto-upload notification. First batch of images from today. The bid team already has access.
The connectivity sight line Tom suggested is already live in the folder. I stop on the sidewalk. Stare at the thumbnail. He made my design argument stronger. And twenty people saw it before I did.
***
I swipe over to the main Harbor file to update my notes, only to pause on a flagged email from weeks ago:Perimeter Activity Alert - Adjacent Property. It's an automated security alert time-stamped well before Tom was officially hired.
Opening the file, I squint at a grainy image of a man on a neighboring building's fire escape, his camera pointed down at the Ironworks. Between the dark canvas jacket, the thick camera bag, and the familiar build, it doesn't take long to connect the dots.
I glance over my shoulder toward the south gate. Tom is still standing there, wearing the same jacket and holding the same bag.
My stomach immediately tightens as I realize he went around our site denial entirely, bypassing protocol long before Marketing brought him onto the project.
It might be a legal workaround, but it perfectly encapsulates the arrogant "solve now, justify later" energy I've been fighting against all morning. I close the file and lock my phone, swallowing the urge to confront him right now.
***
I'm nearly home when my phone buzzes again with a direct text from Tom.
Thought you'd want to see this one first next time. I can flag priority shots before they go live if that helps.
I stop walking.
The photo fills my screen — the northwest shot, the one that reframed the entire site in five minutes.
He sent it to me first.
I stare at the message, recognizing the gesture for what it is: a peace offering. A tiny sliver of control handed back to me by the man who just dismantled my entire morning.
Infuriatingly thoughtful.
That works. Thanks.
I press send before I can reconsider and immediately regret thethanks.
I stand, frozen on the busy sidewalk with my phone clutched in my hand, and my lips pressed together.
This project just got a lot more complicated.
The chaotic stranger who drives me absolutely insane is also a brilliant photographer.
And worse?
I have four more sessions standing right next to him, and suddenly, that doesn't feel like a punishment
Chapter seven
Tom
I’m forty minutes deep into adjusting the northwest shot when the calendar notification detonates across my screen.
Subject line:Morgan + Bennett — Visual Narrative Review.
Flagged urgent.
My hand stills on the mouse.
