Page 112

Vicky approaches as the room empties, her suit still perfect while mine feels like I slept in it. “Good work pushing back on the research cuts,” she says, surprising me. “Your defense of the neural mapping budget was... convincing.”
“Thanks.” I stuff papers into my bag. “I just need my team to have enough time to make this work.”
“That's why you're still here,” she replies with a smilethat doesn't reach her eyes. “Your ability to balance innovation with business reality. Not a common skill.”
The compliment feels weird. I never know where I stand with Vicky. Bennett's second-in-command is scary smart and impossible to read. During our first meeting, she looked at me like a purchase she wasn't sure was worth the money.
“I learned from watching my father,” I say, zipping my bag. “Though he always favored innovation over practical stuff.”
“Hence the acquisition.” Her tone is dry. “Though you're handling the transition better than most would.”
Another compliment? With her, it's hard to tell.
“It helps knowing what's coming,” I reply. “Makes it easier to plan.”
Something flickers across her face. So fast I might have imagined it. “Of course.”
She checks her watch. “I need to prep for my next meeting. Don't forget the board presentation next week. Bennett wants us both there.”
“Looking forward to it,” I lie, already dreading another round of explaining medical devices to people who think they're like office supplies.
After she leaves, I head back to my office, dropping my papers on the desk with relief. My phone buzzes with a text from Bennett in response to me telling him earlier I wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight.
Bennet:
Call me when you’re on your way. I’ll order in.
My fingers hover over the screen. Things between ushave been intense since the night I told him I loved him. He didn't say it back, and I honestly hadn't expected him to, but something changed. He's been more present, more willing to adjust his schedule for me. Last night, I caught him watching me read with an expression that made my heart flip.
Typing out my reply, I smile despite my exhaustion.
me:
Sounds perfect. I’ll be at your place around 8pm.
Bennet:
Our place. And don't work too hard.
Warmth spreads through me. That switch from 'your' to 'our' feels huge.
Me:
Can't wait. See you then.
I drop my phone and take a breath. I'm about to head for coffee when I realize I grabbed some of Vicky's folders by mistake.
“Great,” I mutter. The last thing I want is to face her again after that exhausting meeting. But if I don't return them now, I'll forget.
I flip through the papers to separate mine from hers. That's when I see it.
A timeline I recognize—except mine doesn't have a heading that says:Phase Two.
Phase Two?
Wait. There are phases? Plural?
I pull out my own folder and scan everything. I've only been briefed on the twelve-month integration I'mmanaging now. I know there must be long-term plans, but no one's shared details with the Carmichael team.