Unscramble Agendas Novels & Stories

I watched him and turned over the shape of what we were walking into. Three agendas, converging. Selene, with the ritual she’d been building toward since before the fire. Adrian, stripped of his board position but still holding years of accumulated corporate leverage, still dangerous because he had nothing left to lose. Vincenzo, with his network’s remaining operational capacity and the cold fury of a man who’d been taken out of his own game and hadn’t finished responding. Not an alliance. Something worse. A planned alliance had a single decision-making structure just like a head you could cut off. Three separate agendas had no single point of failure. Stop one, and the other two kept coming

Zeke I've had countless hookups in this bed, but I somehow always wake up thinking to myself when the hell I got a body pillow when in actuality, I'm snuggling with an actual person —yes, I snuggle. I’m a snuggler. I'm not an animal! Not this morning, though. I've woken up alone, and I feel like I had this vivid dream of meeting someone amazing last night.

The meeting was Thursday at two. Nia found out through Marcus's assistant at nine that morning a brief calendar invitation with no agenda attached, which was itself a communication. Agendas meant deliberation. No agenda meant the decision had already moved past deliberation and into something else. She did not know whether that was good or not. She spent the morning working through the Morrison account close-out with the focused attention of someone who understood that the best preparation for a two o'clock meeting she could not control was to be completely excellent at everything before it.