“Escrow terms need redrafting by Friday. Investor MOUs by Tuesday. I’ve already started revisions on the operational framework. You’ll be responsible for supporting the capital compliance language, and I’ll handle the valuation integrity breakdown.” He flipped open the folder without asking, sliding a tabbed section her way. “Start there.”
“Is this…” Corrine picked it up slowly. “Is this the Pillar Grove divestment deal?”
He nodded once. But he knew better than to think she hadn’t already flipped through the docket when it landed. Knew damn well the moment she’d seenSabine’s namestamped at the top of the founder’s column; her interest had piqued for all thewrong reasons. A deal this size? Hell, any deal with Pillar Grove attached came with a flare of status. It passed across every desk that mattered. No way she missed it. Especially not if she was looking for something to get close to him again.
Adair saw it in her face now.
The calculation.
She looked down at the file, then back up at him. “I didn’t realize we were working this together.”
“We’renot,” he replied coolly. “I’m lead counsel. You’reassisting. You answer to me. You know why I’m here,” he said calmly, arms crossed. “Not because of her. Not because of you. Because I’ve closed deals ten times this size with fewer hands-on deck, and I don’t drop balls.” A pause. Her mouth tightened, but she didn’t argue. “This is a $185 million divestment package with high visibility and federal oversight. We don’t have time for games, egos, or misunderstandings.”
“I…I understand. I’m not here for any of that,” she said softly. “I know what’s at stake.”
“Do you?” He tilted his head.
“Yes.”
Adair studied her for a moment longer. No flirting. No fake tension. Just a reminder of where the line stood now and that it would never move again.
“Good,” he said finally. “Because if you fumble anything, if I even think you’re playing this for attention or leverage, I’ll replace you with a second-year associate and rewrite every doc myself.”
Corrine blinked. Once. Twice. Her posture straightened.
“This isn’t personal,” she said, gathering the file into her arms.
“It never was,” he replied and turned to walk out but just before he crossed the threshold, he paused, hand braced against the frame. Without turning around, he said one last thing. “Keepit professional, Corrine. We’re dealing with something a lot bigger than you and your little feelings. Don’t make me regret giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
Adair set his phone face down on the couch after texting Sabine back.Always.He meant that. Meant it even when he didn’t have the words to say anything else. Even when the rest of life between them stayed jagged and uncertain, he meantthat.For Ade, he’d always show up.
The sound of rapid button tapping pulled him back to the moment. Ade was planted in the center of the living room floor with both legs crossed, brow furrowed.
“Alright, lil’ man,” Adair said, grabbing the other controller and settling onto the couch. “You ready to get whooped?”
“Youwish!” Ade beamed up at him, cheeks puffed like he already had the win in the bag. They dove back into the game, something with dragons and an absurd number of glowing potions.
Adair didn’t know what the hell he was doing half the time, but he kept up just enough to make Ade squeal with laughter when he fell off a pixelated cliff. After a few rounds, he glanced over, controller resting in his lap.
“Hey,” he said casually. “You miss Mommy since she been workin’ more?”
“Yeah…” Ade didn’t hesitate. “But she told me her software helps build stuff likespaceships, so I’m happy for her!” He turned and grinned like he really meant that. Like in his little head, that meant Mommy was off building something that helped the world.
Adair smiled too, because…hell yeah. He was proud of her. He didn’t always know how to say it but seeing the way Ade lit up talking about her? That was enough.
“That’s wassup, man,” he said, bumping fists with him. “What about when Daddy gotta work a lot?”
Ade paused this time. His fingers stopped on the buttons. The brightness dimmed just a little. His small shoulders dipped.
“Ummmm…” he murmured.
“Where I’m at?” Adair leaned forward slightly, voice firmer. That made Ade’s eyes shoot back up. The hesitation on his face hit hard. “You can be honest,” he said gently.
“When…” Ade’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “You work Daddy, I don’t see you even when we were home together.”
Oof.
That hurt. Adair’s throat tightened, but he didn’t say anything. He let his son finish.