Page 60 of Executive Privilege

"Diego texted," Nicholas says, showing me his phone. "The gallery opening is definitely happening next week, and he's definitely including your paintings. He also says, and I quote, 'Tell Sadie that hiding talent is a crime against humanity and I'm performing a public service.'"

"I'm definitely going to kill him."

"Before or after you admit he's right about your work being gallery-worthy?"

"Before. Definitely before."

Nicholas's laugh follows me as I head to our bedroom to finish getting ready.

***

The morning passes in productive routine. Team meetings, client calls, strategic planning sessions. The kind of work that reminds me why I fell in love with marketing in the first place—the puzzle of human motivation, the satisfaction of creating campaigns that actually connect with people.

At lunch, Angie appears at my desk with her usual enthusiasm and a suspicious grin.

"So," she says, settling into the chair beside my desk, "rumor has it you and Nicholas are going public today."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Frankie, who heard it from Jennifer, who overheard Nicholas scheduling a 'personal disclosure' meeting with Morrison."

"Office gossip travels fast."

"Office gossip about the CEO and senior marketing director travels at light speed. Especially when everyone's been placing bets on when you'd finally go public, officially."

I look up from my computer. "People have been placing bets?"

"Frankie started a pool three months ago. I had money on you going public after the Morrison quarterly review."

"And now?"

"Now I'm about to win fifty dollars."

I shake my head, but I'm smiling. The Event Horizons team has become something like family over the past year—supportive, protective, genuinely invested in each other's happiness. It's the kind of workplace culture that Nicholas has cultivated despite his reputation for demanding excellence.

"Are you nervous?" Angie asks.

"A little. Change is always scary, even when it's good change."

"This is definitely good change. You two are good for each other."

"We are," I agree. "Surprisingly good."

At 2 PM, Nicholas and I walk into the Morrison Industries quarterly review with professional confidence and personal solidarity. The past year of working with this client has established us as a formidable team—Nicholas handling strategic vision while I manage execution and innovation.

"Nicholas, Sadie," James Morrison greets us with his usual warmth. "Excellent timing. We're ready to discuss Q1 planning and the potential expansion of our partnership."

The business portion of the meeting goes flawlessly. Morrison Industries is thrilled with Event Horizons' work, eager to expand our role in their marketing strategy, and genuinely excited about the creative direction we're proposing for next year.

It's when we reach the end of the formal agenda that Nicholas takes a breath and shifts into personal territory.

"James, there's something Sadie and I wanted to discuss with you. Something that affects our professional partnership."

Morrison's eyebrows rise with interest. "Oh?"

"Sadie and I are in a personal relationship," Nicholas says simply. "We've been together for several months, and we wanted to ensure complete transparency with our clients."

Morrison looks between us, then breaks into a grin. "Well, it's about time you made it official."