“Get some rest,” she said. “We’ve got tomorrow handled.”
He pulled back and looked toward the office, where the light from the window cast a warm glow into the parking lot. Connor was visible through the glass, hunched over his laptop.
“Kate mentioned something,” Eli said carefully. “About you and Connor.”
Meredith felt the heat rise instantly. “Kate is very observant.”
“She’s a scientist. Observation is her superpower.” He paused. “Is she right?”
“I don’t know what she said.”
“She said there was an undercurrent of…something.”
Meredith opened her mouth, closed it, and settled on honesty because her father had never accepted anything less.
“It’s not…nothing,” she admitted on a laugh. “But don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.” His voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just don’t get hurt again.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Plans change.” He opened the truck door, then turned back. “But also—don’t close yourself off to something awesome because some fool stomped all over you. Connor’s a good guy.”
High praise, she knew.
She blew him a kiss and watched him drive off, not moving until the truck was out of sight.
That man deserved to be loved and understood and appreciated, she thought. Because as “good guys” went? He was the best. She didn’t know much about heaven, not like he did, but surely Mom was up there watching him. Maybe protecting him from the wrong decision.
When she went back inside, Connor looked up from his laptop.
“How is he?” Connor asked.
“Tired. Heartbroken. Determined to do the right thing even if it costs him everything.” She sat down at her desk and pulled her chair closer to his. “So basically, classic Eli Lawson.”
Connor smiled. “What about classic Meredith Lawson? How is she?”
She looked at him—the hair, the dark eyes, the confidence that had become as essential to her days as coffee and blueprints—and felt the certainty she’d been denying for weeks settle over her like something warm.
“She’s ready,” she said. “For tomorrow. For all of it.”
He held her gaze. “All of it?”
On impulse, she leaned over and kissed him—quick, certain, a promise sealed in the space between two desks in the little office that had become their world.
“All of it,” she confirmed. “But first, we have a presentation to build. And if we pull this off tomorrow?—”
“Whenwe pull this off tomorrow,” he corrected.
She smiled. “Whenwe pull this off tomorrow, you owe me a real celebration. Not in an unfinished house.”
“Deal.” He turned back to his laptop. “Now let’s go get this guy.”
They ended up working until two in the morning, side by side, building the case that would either ruin the account or Vance Brennan’s career.
Connor organized the slides while Meredith wrote the narrative. He pulled documents and she structured arguments. They moved around each other with the easy synchronization of two people who’d been working next to each other for years, not a few weeks.
By the time they finished, the presentation was clean, organized, and devastating. Every contractor connection documented. Every bid discrepancy highlighted. The ductwork gauge incongruity photographed and compared against specs. Atimeline showing how Vance’s vendor steering coincided with his efforts to sideline Meredith’s oversight.