“We are under review,” she continued. “This is not the moment to test boundaries.”
I held her gaze, jaw set.
She held it longer. “We agreed to pivot,” she said. “Not to push.”
The music swelled behind us. Laughter broke out somewhere near the bar.
“I want you in Seville on Monday,” she added. “Private consortium. Infrastructure and energy. Be useful there.”
Be useful.Not fix this. Not lead. Not solve. Had I lost her trust already?
I nodded once. “Send me the details.”
“Try to enjoy your party, Ash.” Her expression softened just enough to remain human. “Life is so much more than this. Don’t lose sight of that.”
The words landed somewhere deep and unwelcome. For a split second, I saw what she meant—a life not measured in balance sheets and crisis calls, in victories wrestled from collapse. A life where tonight could simply be a birthday, not a ledger of failures.
I shut the thought down before it could take root.
This was the job. This was the cost.
Seville would mean distance, not surrender. If I couldn’t push here, I would push there. Quietly. Away from the microscope.
I nodded once.
She gave me one uncertain smile before she moved back into the crowd.
I finished my drink in one swallow.
“Hey, look at that—ran out already,” Henry said, eyeing my empty glass before guiding me deeper into the room, his hand warm at my back as he steered me through the press of bodies.
We slid up to the bar. Henry leaned over the counter with practiced ease, and I followed, setting my glass down.
The bartender—masked, shirt half-open, fully on theme—inclined his head toward it. “Another?”
I lifted a brow in answer, and he reached for the bottle.
Beside me, Henry said, “You know, if you keep drinking like that, you’ll hit forty before midnight.”
“Perfect,” I said into the fresh glass. “Maybe then the rest of my life will catch up.”
Henry’s smile pulled a little tight as he looked me over. “You’re really going through it, huh?”
I lifted a shoulder—nothing else to give him.
He tapped the toe of his shoe against the bar. “You know who’s getting older too?”
I shot him a look, waiting for the pitch.
“Dad,” he said, hopeful in that annoyingly Henry way.
My eyes went up before I could stop them, rolling back. “Henny, come on. Right now? Really?”
“I mean…” He shrugged. “As long as life is feeling all vulnerable and shit. Just a call, Ash. You know you’re the bigger person. And what if you regret this?”
I dragged a hand down my face, turning my back to the bar. Absolutely not. “Not tonight.”
“But, Ash?—”
