"Consider it a test case for executive remote work," I counter smoothly. "If quarterly projections maintain their current trajectory, my location becomes irrelevant."
The numbers, already promising after just three weeks, support my argument. The board may be traditional, but they respect results above all else. By the call's end, they've provisionally approved my proposal for a hybrid arrangement, pending the Winter Division's full launch in January.
One more hurdle cleared, I think as I disconnect. One step closer to building a life with Sloane that doesn't require either of us to sacrifice what matters.
I find her in her office, reviewing slope safety protocols with Spencer's team. She glances up as I enter, her smile immediate and warming.
"How was the board?" she asks once Spencer and his team have departed with congratulations and safety checklists.
"Surprisingly amenable," I reply, closing her office door to give us privacy. "The hybrid arrangement has provisional approval. Contingent on maintaining profit projections, of course."
"Of course." Her smile widens as I cross to her, perching on the edge of her desk. "So it's really happening? You and me, splitting time between here and New York?"
"It's really happening." I take her hand, thumb brushing over the emerald ring. "Though I was thinking we might need a more permanent residence here than my cabin rental."
"Moving in together?" she teases. "How scandalous."
"Getting married tends to involve shared living space," I point out dryly. "Though we could maintain separate residences if you prefer the illusion of propriety."
"Hmm, tempting." She pretends to consider. "But I think I'd rather wake up with you every morning."
"A wise decision." I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles just above the ring. "So, house hunting?"
"First on the list," she agrees. "Though we should probably set a wedding date before we close on property. My father will have opinions."
"As will my mother," I grimace slightly. "Speaking of whom, we should call her. Before someone else does."
"Already taken care of," Sloane admits. "She called me directly after seeing my Instagram story."
"Your what?" I blink, confused.
"The photo of the ring I posted this morning," she clarifies. "With the caption 'I said yes to forever with my best friend.'"
"You announced our engagement on social media before we told my mother?" I can't decide whether to be horrified or impressed by her audacity.
"In my defense, it was when you were in the shower," she says, not looking remotely apologetic. "And Vivienne wassurprisingly gracious. Already talking about spring flowers and venue options."
"God help us," I mutter, though there's no real distress behind it. My mother's enthusiasm, while potentially overwhelming, comes from a place of genuine happiness for us. "Spring, then? For the wedding?"
"April," she suggests. "When the snow is gone but before the tourist season gets too crazy. Simple ceremony at The Evergreen, reception at Skyline."
I raise an eyebrow at her specific vision. "Been planning this long?"
A blush colors her cheeks. "Maybe I've thought about it once or twice. Theoretically."
"Theoretically," I repeat, charmed by her admission. "Well, theoretically, April sounds perfect."
"You're really on board with a small-town wedding? Not some lavish Manhattan affair that will make the society pages?"
"I'm on board with whatever makes you happy," I tell her truthfully. "Though I admit, the thought of a Hope Peak wedding appeals more than I expected. It feels... right."
Her expression softens as she rises from her chair, stepping between my legs where I sit on her desk. "You've changed, Atticus Morgan."
"For the better, I hope."
"Definitely for the better." She loops her arms around my neck. "Though I fell for you long before Hope Peak worked its magic. Ruthless CEO and all."
"Is that so?" I wrap my arms around her waist, drawing her closer. "Even when I was critiquing the foam-to-coffee ratio in your lattes?"
