Page 84 of The Secretary Volume II

“You’ve had a hard year,” he continues.“The divorce.The business.You’ve had to pivot.”

Is this supposed to be sympathy?A résumé recap?

“I’m fine,” I say.

But I’m not.My jaw aches.I haven’t had a full meal in three days.Whatever gloss I walked in here with is just that—gloss.

He watches me over the rim of his glass.“You don’t strike me as someone who wants to be fine.”

He lets it sit there, then adds, “I think you want to matter.And I think you’ve been waiting for someone to show you how.”

That gets my attention.It also pisses me off a little.

But I don’t let it show.I smile instead.“Is that what this is?Is that why I’m here?”

“If that makes it easier for you,” he says.

I pick up my fork, toy with it.“Easier for me?Or easier for you?”

He leans in, and for a moment it’s just the two of us, suspended in that glossy space where everything feels intentional and nothing feels safe.

“I don’t lose, Lena,” he says.“You should know that.”

48

Lena

Iset the fork down slowly, the food still untouched.My stomach twists, heavy with the weight of the last few days.The food might as well be decorative.I could barely handle toast this morning.

Ellis notices immediately.His gaze sharpens as it shifts between the plate and me, his expression unreadable, but I can feel the weight of his attention.He doesn’t speak, but the silence grows tighter, like he’s waiting for something more to unfold.

“I came here to talk about the man at the facility, the man in the trial.”

“There are lots of men and lots of trials, Lena.”

“Yes,” I say.“But you know which one I’m talking about.”

His eyes narrow.

“You don’t consider that a loss?”

He doesn’t miss a beat.“What makes you think I had anything to do with it?”

“You run the company.”

“I own the company,” he corrects.“But you know as well as I do—ownership and oversight aren’t the same thing.”

“So who’s responsible?”

He shrugs.“The data is being reviewed.It’s not your concern.”

I lean back, careful not to clench my jaw.“You invited me to dinner.You said you could help me.”

“I can.”He picks up his fork, casual.“But that doesn’t mean I owe you answers.”

“Then what do you owe me?”

“An opportunity,” he says.“To get what you want.If you’re smart enough to want it.”