Page 91 of Forty, Flirty & Fall Inn

"By maintaining operational optimization.”She crosses her arms."Kenji's been handling the technical decisions.I've been managing the administrative.We've been covering for you."

"I don't need covering."

"Your calendar says otherwise."She scrolls through her tablet."Missed meetings, postponed reviews, delegated responsibilities.All for trips to Alder Ridge."

"Those were for SafeStay implementation."

"Right.Which is why you came back covered in goat hair with your shirt inside out."

I adjust my glasses."That was one time."

“Boss.”Her voice softens."We're not judging.Well, I'm judging a little.But mostly we're worried.This isn't like you."

"What isn't?"

“Um, having a social life?”She pauses."It's actually nice.Terrifying for those of us used to the mechanical Luke, but nice."

My phone buzzes.Text from Connor:Summit.8 PM.More bachelor-wedding hoopla to handle.Callum's paying.

A pause before another text.

Wear something that doesn't smell like barn.

"I have to go," I tell Daniella."The guys are meeting at The Summit."

"For Callum's pre-engagement party thing?"

"Grayson insists we call it 'masculine bonding over overpriced whiskey.'"

"That's a terrible name."

"Better than Connor's suggestion of 'feelings and scotch.'"

She laughs."Go.Be social with your friends.But boss?”

“Yeah?”

My executive assistant’s brown eyes lower.“Maybe figure out what you want your, um, schedule to look like ahead of the SafeStay launch.You haven’t exactly been ‘on’ when it comes to the logistics.”

My jaw works.I grab for my suit jacket, shrugging into it.“You can relax, Daniella.I’ve got things handled."

"Do you though?"

I don't answer because honestly, I have no idea anymore.

The expensive members-only club, The Summit is its usual cathedral of curated masculinity when I arrive.

Polished walnut walls.Low lighting.Leather everything.

Smelling of money, musk, and generational trauma.

Connor, Grayson, and Alex are already at our usual booth—an elevated, semi-private table with a skyline view and an unspoken rule that conversations here are both privileged and punishable by mockery.

"—absolutely not how that works," Grayson is saying as I walk up."You can't just add a helicopter pad?—"

"I own the building," Alex cuts in, completely unfazed."I can add whatever I want."

"Zoning laws exist, Alex."