Page 92 of The Silver Fox Brother

I leave the office and head back toward my own, already thinking about the site visit this afternoon.

I arrive at the Sterling Tower site at one-forty-five. Tom Barrett is already there, standing in the lobby of what will eventually be the main entrance, reviewing something on his tablet. The space is raw concrete and exposed steel right now, but the bones are good. The structure is sound.

"Knox." Tom looks up when I approach.

"Winter Hayes and her team should be here any minute. I pulled the latest construction schedule so she can see where we are with rough-ins and mechanical."

"Good. She'll want to know timeline on electrical and HVAC before she finalizes placement for custom elements."

Tom nods just as a black SUV pulls up outside. Winter steps out first, followed by four people I assume are her team. She's changed since this morning—dark jeans, a fitted white button-down, boots that look practical for a construction site. Her hair is still pulled back, and she's carrying a leather messenger bag and what looks like a professional camera.

She says something to her team, gesturing toward the entrance, and they follow her inside.

"Mr. Sterling. Tom." Winter nods to both of us as she approaches.

"This is my team. Maya, my project manager. James and Claudia, senior designers. Liam, our technical specialist."

Each of them nods or offers a brief greeting. They're carrying tablets, measuring equipment, camera gear. This is clearly a working visit, not a courtesy walk-through.

"We'll stay out of your way," I say.

"Let us know if you need anything."

Winter's mouth curves slightly.

"We'll let you know."

She turns to her team and immediately shifts into work mode.

"Maya, start with the two-bedroom unit. I need dimensions on all wall spans, ceiling heights, window measurements. James and Claudia, focus on sight lines from the entry points. I want to know what someone sees when they first walk into each space. Liam, electrical and data rough-ins. Map everything."

They disperse without question, each moving to their assigned tasks with clear purpose.

Winter pulls out her camera and starts photographing the space systematically. Not random shots—deliberate captures of angles, light, architectural details.

Tom and I move to the far side of the lobby, giving them room to work but staying available for questions.

"She moves fast," Tom observes quietly.

"She does."

We watch as Winter walks the perimeter of the lobby space, her camera raised, her focus absolute. She stops at one ofthe floor-to-ceiling window openings—no glass installed yet—and stands there for a long moment, looking out at the view.

Then she turns and calls across the space.

"James. Come look at this sight line."

The designer crosses to her, and Winter points out the window, then back toward where the elevator banks will be located. She's explaining something, her hands moving to illustrate her point. James nods, takes notes on his tablet, asks a question I can't hear. Winter answers, gestures again.

I should be reviewing the construction timeline with Tom.

Instead, I'm watching Winter Hayes work.

She moves through the space like she owns it. Not arrogant, just confident. She knows what she's looking for, knows what questions to ask, knows how to read a space in progress and see what it will become.

She crouches next to one of the electrical boxes, examining the placement, then pulls out a measuring tape and checks the distance to the nearest wall. Makes a note on her phone. Stands, moves to the next box, repeats the process.

"The natural light in this unit is going to be challenging in the afternoon," she says, loud enough that her whole team can hear.