Chapter 7

SHANE

Afternoons like this reminded me exactly why I didn’t believe in luck; only timing and leverage. The meeting in my office’s private conference room had just wrapped, and while the partner we’d hosted left with a smile and a sleek folder under his arm, I could feel the tension still vibrating through the room like residual static.

Nathaniel didn’t say a damn thing throughout the meeting.

Not once.

I glanced across the table one last time before standing. Carrie had her usual composed expression, eyes flicking briefly toward Nathaniel with a tight-lipped awareness. She knew his silence wasn’t benign…neither did the other senior managers. It was one of his oldest tricks: weaponized apathy. His way of making everyone know he wasn’t happy without saying a word.

“Thank you, everyone,” I said, straightening my jacket. “I’ll see most of you again in the larger meeting shortly.”

They nodded and began to rise. Nathaniel stayed seated a second longer, then got up slowly like a man dragging himself out of bed for something beneath him.

I tried to meet his gaze but he looked away.

Typical.

And just like that, he was gone. Carrie gave me a quick, unreadable glance before walking out behind the others. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

I returned to my main office and barely had time to unbutton my cuffs when my executive assistant, Grace, walked in with a neatly stacked file folder.

“These need your signature before the full executive meeting,” she said, placing them gently on the desk.

I flipped them open, barely skimming. Most of these were authorizations, vendor payments, partnership renewals, greenlighted campaign budgets. I signed them with mechanical precision.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Only that the room is ready for the 4:30 p.m. meeting,” she replied, clasping her tablet.

I nodded and left for the larger conference room down the corridor.

The hum of voices quieted as I stepped in, and I liked that. I always had. That subtle reminder that I didn’t need to raise my voice to be heard.

The room was filled with heads of departments, executive directors, and senior managers—Carrie included of course, she sat on the third seat from the right, flanked by our strategy and communications directors. Nathaniel’s seat sat empty. “Good.” I told myself inwardly, I didn't need any sulking adults around me.

I took my position at the head of the table, rolled up my sleeves just enough to breathe, and looked around.

“We’ll get straight to it,” I began. “There’s been a lot of talk about expansion, partnerships, and mergers over the last quarter. I’ve decided, after careful analysis and what recently happened with SharpLens.that we’re putting a hold on all merger discussions until further notice.”

A few people shifted in their seats. A few nodded.

“Our focus this quarter,” I continued, “is going to be internal growth. We need to consolidate, restructure where necessary, and tighten our brand identity. I want strength in-house before we pursue any external alliances. That’s where our priority lies. Not on flashy deals or inflated press releases.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table.

Carrie leaned forward slightly, speaking up in that precise, clear tone of hers. “I think this is a strategic pause we’ve needed for a while. There’s been too much noise outside; this gives us room to focus inward and reassert our leadership in the market.”

I gave a curt nod. “Exactly. We can’t lead externally if we’re not aligned internally.”

One by one, others began to chime in. Project managers spoke of improved timelines if teams weren’t stretched chasing merger deadlines. Strategy leads proposed quarterly focus sprints to reinvigorate existing client accounts.

The conversation shifted from skepticism to momentum. And I liked it.

Nathaniel wasn’t missed. Not one person even asked about him.

By the time the meeting ended at exactly 5:56 p.m., I could feel a weight lifting off my shoulders. The kind of satisfaction that came from knowing the ship was pointing in the right direction, finally without someone constantly drilling holes in the hull.

I left the room first and made my way down the corridor, loosening my collar slightly. Grace appeared again at the edge of her desk, tablet in hand.

“Sir, do you want a briefing on the CEO Roundtable invite for…”

“Not now, Grace.” I cut in, slowing only briefly. “I have somewhere to be. I am closed for the day.”

She blinked but quickly nodded. “Very well, I’ll push it to your morning stack.”

“Thanks.”

I gave her a thumbs up and made a beeline for my office, barely noticed the assistants still typing away at their desks. Once inside, I grabbed my suit jacket and slipped it on, checking my phone as I walked toward the elevator.

There it was Cathy’s message from earlier.

“Landed. Can’t wait to see you. Missed you terribly.”

God, I’d missed her too.

The smile that spread across my face wasn’t something I bothered to hide. Cathy had been out of town for nearly two weeks, visiting family in Italy and finalizing some charity gala logistics she was chairing. And while I had plenty to keep me occupied…her absence left a gnawing hole I hadn’t realized would ache this much.

Cathy wasn’t just a lover.

She was… relief.

Comfort.

She knew how to quiet the noise, how to touch a place in me that no one else even saw.

As the elevator descended, I checked the time again. If I drove fast, I could make it home, shower, and change into something less corporate before heading to her place.

I was so elated, my Cathy was back in my town. I couldn’t wait to see her.

I stepped into the garage and headed for my car. The sleek black Mercedes gleamed under the overhead lights as if it knew where we were headed.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I started the engine and let the hum settle through me. I had told my driver to take the evening off.

I thought of her throughout my drive home.

Her perfume on my skin. Her voice in my ear. The softness of her laugh when she called me “Mr. CEO” with that teasing lilt. Everything felt lighter just thinking about it.

Yeah, the day had gone well—better than expected. Carrie had done what she was “supposed” to do during meetings. Nathaniel had sulked himself into irrelevance. The team had rallied.

And now?

Now I had exactly what I wanted waiting for me on the other side of town.