Page 89 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Three weeks is realistic." Her voice is calm but firm.

"European vendors, custom work, shipping complications. I'd rather build in the buffer now than negotiate extensions later."

I hold her gaze for a moment. She doesn't look away.

"Agreed," I say finally.

She returns to the contract. Ten more minutes pass in silence while she reviews every page, every clause. She sets down the contract.

"The creative control clause requires approval on all custom millwork designs. I want that amended to approval only on millwork that alters structural elements or exceeds budget parameters."

"Why?"

"Because you hired me to design these spaces, which means you trust my expertise. Requiring approval on every millwork detail adds delays and undermines that trust."

I study her across the table. She meets my look directly, doesn't flinch, doesn't soften her position.

"You negotiate hard," I observe.

"I know my worth."

"Clearly."

I make a note on my copy of the contract. "I'll amend the clause."

Something flickers in her expression. Surprise, maybe. But she doesn't comment.

We spend the next fifteen minutes going through remaining details. She catches two more areas that need adjustment. Both are legitimate concerns. I agree to both modifications.

Marcus brings in the updated pages. Winter reviews them carefully, then picks up a pen.

"Before I sign," she says, "I need to confirm the timeline is firm. Six months from today to final installation. No extensions on my end barring circumstances genuinely beyond my control."

"Correct."

"And you understand I have other clients and projects during this timeline."

"As long as those commitments don't interfere with agreed milestones, we have no issue."

She nods, clicks the pen, and signs.

I sign beside her signature.

Done.

Winter closes the contract and slides it back to me.

"When do we get started?"

"Today." I stand.

"But there's something else first. Come with me."

I don't wait for her response, just head for the door. After a brief pause, I hear her footsteps following. We walk past the executive offices, past the open workspace where several team members glance up, to a corner office with windows overlooking the city.

I open the door and step aside. Winter enters slowly, looking around the empty office. Desk, chairs, shelving. Great natural light. Close to the main workspace.

"What is this?" she asks.