"What?" I say.
Nadia grins. "Nothing."
Liv smiles into her coffee cup. "Absolutely nothing."
Priya picks up her phone and finally types something into the notes app. I lean across the table and catch a glimpse of the screen before she locks it.
Phase Two: Wedding Pinterest Board.
I roll my eyes and take a sip of my latte.
It's cold now.
I drink it anyway.
Chapter twenty-one
Tom
"Ican't make the call." The words come out fast the second Sam answers her phone. "You decide. Option A or Option B."
Silence on the other end of the line. The heavy, wait-and-see kind of silence.
"Tom."
"Option A is safe," I say, staring at the two tablets spread across my desk. "It's clean, technically flawless. Exactly what the Board expects. Option B shows the neighborhood character, the human scale. But—"
"Come to the office."
I stop pacing. "What?"
"I'll book a conference room. We can look at them together."
"Sam, I just need you to tell me which direction to go."
"Come to the office." There's a surprising, steady warmth in her voice. "We'll work through it."
I lean back against my desk, rubbing a hand over my face. "Your week is insane. I know you're playing catch-up from the hard drive crash. I don't want to—"
"Tom." Firm now. The project manager is back. "Shut up and come to the office."
Three months ago, this wouldn't have been a conversation. I would have picked Option B, sent the files, and moved on. I've made a thousand creative calls on my own. But the second presentation is still playing on a loop in my head. The Developer's jaw tightening. Sam stepping in, taking the hit for my lack of communication.
We bounced back during last Thursday's check-in, but we still have a grueling series of weekly Board updates to survive before the final Capital Investment meeting next month.
If I choose wrong this time, she pays again. It isn't just my job anymore.
"Just when I need you to take control, you aren’t going to. Are you?" I ask.
"We're partners," she says, her voice dropping, going softer. "Partners work together. I'll even spring for lunch."
The cursor blinks on Screen Left.
"Okay," I say, grabbing my bag. "I'm on my way."
***
The conference room has three glass walls. I spread both tablets across the table, pulling up the decks side by side. Through the barriers, Sam's firm moves—people between desks, someone gesturing at blueprints, a woman on her phone.
