Page 14 of Executive Privilege

"What made you choose marketing?" he asks, surprising me with the personal question.

"I like solving puzzles where the pieces are people. Figuring out what motivates someone, what they care about, what would make them change their mind about anything."

"And you're good at figuring people out?"

"Usually. Though some people are harder to read than others."

I glance at him briefly before looking back at my computer screen, and his expression suggests he knows I might be talking about him specifically.

"What about you? What made you start Event Horizons?"

The question seems to catchhimoff guard. But after a moment, he answers.

"I wanted to build something that was mine. Control over my own decisions, my own future."

There's weight in his voice when he talks about control—hints of a story he's not sharing. But I don't push.

"That makes sense. Independence is important."

"We should probably both head home," Nicholas says, glancing at his watch."

We pack up our things in comfortable silence, and once again find ourselves walking to the elevator together. The building is quiet at this hour, most of the offices are dark and we're alone in the empty corridor.

"Sadie," Nicholas says as we wait for the elevator. "I want you to know that this Dallas trip is because you've established yourself as the go-to here, not about... anything else."

The comment should probably reassure me, but there's something in his tone that suggests he's trying to convince himself as much as me.

"Of course. And it's a great opportunity to establish an even closer relationship... with Morrison's team."

Nicholas shifts slightly beside me. "Exactly."

The elevator arrives, and we ride down in silence as I try desperately to suppress the images from my elevator fantasy.But I can't shake the feeling that Nicholas's clarification was less about setting appropriate expectations and more about establishing boundaries he's worried about crossing. That I'm worried about crossing too.

In the parking garage, he walks me to my car again—a habit that's becoming familiar and is definitely not helping my ability to maintain professional distance.

"Drive safely, Sadie."

"Always do."

Emma was right about one thing: next week is definitely going to be an opportunity.

The question is whether it's an opportunity for professional growth, personal disaster, or both.

Chapter 5: Different Lives

The climbing gym at 6 AM is my sanctuary.

I tape my hands methodically, the ritual as familiar as breathing. Around me, the early morning climbers are preparing for their routes—checking gear, stretching, studying the wall like they're reading poetry. This is my people. People who understand that sometimes you need to climb an impossible route just to prove you can.

"You're here early, even for you," says Leroy, one of the regulars, as he chalks his hands nearby. "Big day ahead?"

"Big week," I admit, eyeing the route I've been working on for three weeks. It's a 5.11c with an overhang that's been kicking my ass, but today feels different. Today I feel like I could climb anything.

The wall is honest. Either you make the move or you don't. Either your technique is solid or you fall. No politics, no hidden agendas, no mysterious boss who brings you perfect coffee and looks at you like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

I start my warm-up route, letting muscle memory take over. Reach, grip, step up. Find the balance point. Trust the hold. The familiar burn in my forearms feels like coming home.

Halfway up the wall, I'm not thinking about Morrison Industries or Dallas business trips or the way Nicholas said my name in that parking garage. I'm just movement and breath and the simple satisfaction of going up.