Page 51 of The Silver Fox Brother

I take the chair across from her—not behind my desk, but close enough to maintain formality.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

I'm staring at her again. Longer than I should. Cataloging details I have no business noticing: the way the afternoon light catches her hair, the exact shade of blue in her eyes, the curve of her collarbone where the silk blouse meets skin.

She stares back. Unflinching.

Then she adjusts in her seat, breaks the moment with a slight shift of her shoulders.

"Well. What is this meeting about exactly?"

Right.Business.Focus.

I lean forward slightly, elbows on knees, hands clasped.

"I have a project. I think you're the right designer for it."

"You could've sent the specs through your assistant. Or scheduled a call."

"I prefer to discuss significant projects in person."

"Significant." She tilts her head slightly. "Define that."

I stand, move to my desk, and pick up the presentation folder. Return to where she's sitting and hand it to her. She takes it, opens it carefully. The first page is a rendering of Sterling Tower—the full building in context, thirty stories of glass and steel rising in Tribeca, the Manhattan skyline behind it, the Hudson River visible in the background.

Winter studies it. Silent. Her expression shifts from guarded to engaged—this is her element, and she can't hide the professional interest even if she wanted to.

I watch her eyes move across the rendering, taking in details.

"Sterling Tower," I say, keeping my voice even. "Thirty stories, ultra-luxury residential in Tribeca. Fifty-six residences across twenty-eight residential floors. Two full amenity floors. Penthouses occupy the top three floors."

She flips to the next page—floor plans, unit layouts, the specifications that show exactly what I'm building.

"I need full interior design for three model units," I continue.

"A two-thousand-square-foot two-bedroom, a thirty-five-hundred-square-foot three-bedroom, and the fifty-five-hundred-square-foot penthouse."

Winter looks up. "Timeline?"

"Six months from contract signing to installation complete."

Her eyebrows go up slightly. "That's tight."

"It's necessary. Investor tours are scheduled for December. The units need to be fully designed, furnished, and staged by then."

She nods slowly, turns back to the folder. Flips through the market analysis, the budget projections, the renderings of different floors.

"Budget?" she asks, not looking up.

"Eight to ten million for all three units. Full design, custom furniture, art acquisition, staging, custom millwork. Whatever you need to execute the vision."

Her eyes flick up to mine. Quick. Sharp.

That's a substantial budget. We both know it.

"That's..." She pauses, choosing words carefully.

"Generous."