Page 107 of Grizz

He studies me for a long moment, his expression more friendly.

“You don’t owe me your future, Daisy,” he says.“You did good work here.That’s the only currency that matters.”

Relief hits so hard I almost feel dizzy.

“You should be true to yourself,” he adds.“That’s the only way any of this is sustainable.”

I nod, throat tight.

“And if you ever need a recommendation,” Julian continues, a faint smile breaking through, “you have my full support.I’d be happy to provide one.”

“Thank you,” I say, meaning more than just the words.

“May I ask you something?”he says.

I still.“Of course.”

He studies me for a moment, not unkindly.Curious.Thoughtful.“Are you sure this new role in Los Angeles is the only reason you’re leaving?”

The question catches me off guard.“What do you mean?”

A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.“You and Grizz were the poorest-kept secret in the league,” he says evenly.“I’m curious what he thinks about this move.”

Heat rushes up my neck.For a moment, I consider deflecting—keeping this clean and professional—but his tone disarms me.He’s not fishing.He’s acknowledging reality.

I take a breath.“We’re… not together anymore,” I say carefully.“It didn’t work out.”

He doesn’t press.Doesn’t ask for details.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, sincerely.“I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t,” I admit.That’s all I give him.

He nods once, absorbing it.“Then I’m especially glad you’re choosing what’s best for you,” he says.“Transitions tend to stack.It helps to face them with clarity.”

I manage a small smile.“That’s the hope.”

Julian’s expression softens again.“I believe you’ll do very well in Los Angeles.”

“Thank you.”

He pauses, then asks, “Do you have any plans for the Thanksgiving holiday?”

“Yes,” I say.“I’m going home to DC to be with my family.Then I’ll plan to fly out to Los Angeles the day after.”

He nods, approving.“Good.Family has a way of grounding big transitions.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I reply—and I realize it’s true.

He stands, signaling the meeting’s end, and I rise with him.He extends his hand and I take it, the shake firm and brief.

“Thank you again,” I say.“For everything.”

“You earned it,” he answers simply.

We exchange a final nod—professional, respectful, complete—and I turn toward the door, carrying both the weight of goodbye and the strange lightness of what comes next.

Chapter 29