Sabine dropped her gaze quickly, pretending to double-check her laptop cord and flash drive. Her hands moved faster than usual as she packed her bag, snapped her water bottle shut. She didn’t wait for Malik to catch up. She left the conference room and walked briskly down the corridor toward her office, heels quiet but quick.
Inside, door closed, she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. She’d just pulled off the biggest moment in her professional career. Years of false starts, delays, grief, motherhood, failureand still, she built something.
Something beautiful.
Something hers.
She opened her phone. Thumb hovered over the name before she even realized what she was doing. Adair. That was the first name that came to mind.
Not Narri.
Not Pam.
Not her old professor who once told her she was too emotional for analytics.
Adair.
Because he’d known about Aderra when it was nothing. He’d listened to her dream out loud when it was just late-night scribbles and Google searches. He’d watched her lose it, then let her loseeverything else.
And he was the one who took himself away. His actions took him away. Then removed himself from the version of her that had the nerve to start again. She swallowed the tightness rising in her throat, locked her screen, and walked to her desk reaching for the office phone.
Narri.
Instead of Adair, it would be Narri she chose.
“Hello?” came that loud, unfiltered voice. “Sabine? Girl you better not be calling to cancel this nail appointment?—”
“I did it,” Sabine said, interrupting. “I just pitched Aderra to Pillar Grove. The CEO came.Harlan Creedwas there…and it was...incredible.”
There was a pause. Then, “Bitch.”
Sabine laughed. Actually laughed. It shook some of the ache loose. “I’m serious,” she said. “I did it…and, Narri, I think the CEO might’ve been flirting with me?”
“Might’ve?” Narri gasped. “What he say? What he look like? How much money is the CEO worth?”
Sabine leaned back in her chair, one hand covering her eyes, smiling now. “He didn’t say anything direct. Just looked at me. Like...I was thewholemeeting.”
“Good. He saw what the rest of us been knew. You awholelot, Sabine Knight and if he act right? Maybe he canalmostdeserve you.”
ADAIR
Adair didn’t even know where they were going until Pam said, “turn here,” like it was obvious. The bakery sat on a tucked-away corner of West Boulevard, wedged between a soul food spot and a wig shop. Bright colors in the window, a chalkboard easel out front displaying the day’s special.
Adair parked and said “I didn’t know there was a cake meeting or whatever y’all call this.”
“You didn’tneedto know. Sabine’s been busy, so I stepped in. Andyou’rethe one who said you’d drive me.”
Adair shut the door and followed her inside. The bakery smelled like sugar and almond extract. A young girl behind the counter greeted Pam like they were cousins, and they instantly began going over the ideas for Ade’s cake.
“Rocket theme,” Pam reminded, pulling out her phone to show off a few saved inspiration pics. “Blue and silver, none of that cartoon mess. He’s a big boy now, he want arealrocket,” she said, and they shared a laugh. The bakery was known for its realism with cake art, so the girl already knew where she was coming from.
Adair stood off to the side, hands in his pockets. He only halfway listened as Pam and the baker went back andforth about fondant versus buttercream, edible stars, chocolate moons, gluten sensitivity for some kids. He didn’t know any of this had already been planned.
Not the theme.
Not the venue.
Not the cake.