Page 25 of True Colors

Already? She only got access to it late yesterday evening.

“Do you have any initial thoughts?” I ask, genuinely curious.

She inhales like she’s about to dive underwater. “N-Novagene uses…uh…uses th-three tiers of suppliers. Their b-b-biggest issue is the v-variance in r-raw m-material costs.”

Her voice trembles.

Her logic doesn’t.

“They p-purchase reagents fr-from a com-company in Istanbul,” she continues. “The lead times d-dr-drop if they renegotiate their m-minimum order thresholds.”

Really? I didn’t notice that, and I’ve gone through all the information, twice.

Did she already parse through all the data and come up with this?

I guess this is what Dot meant.

“Keep going.”

She swallows. “If they re-struc… re⁠—”

“Restructure?” I offer.

Christ, is that okay? Am I supposed to let her take five minutes to say a single word in the middle of a meeting? Or can I help?

“Yes, their MOQ con-contracts.” She straightens, and I worry she’s going to crack her spine. “They can shift the ho-holding costs d-down…down…stream.”

“And what will that do?” I ask, tamping down my impatience because I want to know what’s on her mind.

Maybe Erin needs to schedule longer team meetings, so Anouk isn’t rushed. We need her voice in the room—she’s the one running the damn numbers.

She nods quickly, relieved that I’m understanding her. “Yes. It d-de—decreases volatility by sixty-seven percent in s-scenario two.”

What the hell?

Sixty-seven percent?

Did she run the numbers already?

When did she find the time?

“Show me,” I snap.

She opens her laptop. Her hands shake, and guilt hits me square in the chest—I’ve done this to her.

She turns the screen toward me.

Her spreadsheet is dense, but clean. Tight pivot tables. No clutter. Her formulas are nested in ways even my senior analysts rarely achieve.

I study her work, and a faint warmth crawls up my neck.

She’s good.

Not promotion-good or even top-ten-percent good. More like top-tier, best-in-the-business good.

“And if we, um…i-introduce a st-stoch…stoch— stoch⁠—”

She exhales, jaw tightening as the word catches.